Some one must have visited Worth Varden. That visitor had talked with the importer. Somehow, he had managed to get Varden away. Then the visitor had reentered. Either Varden or he had carried away the evidence which the importer had intended for Joe Cardona.
The visitor must have come back after Varden’s departure. The presence of the forged note was proof of that. The unlocked door from the alleyway was assurance that something had gone amiss. Cardona had pushed the door open; yet the detective had seen nothing important in the fact that it was unlocked. The Shadow, however, had seen Cardona’s action. The Shadow knew.
Added was the evidence of the cigar butt that had been dropped outside. It indicated that some one had been lurking here. The ash tray at the side of Varden’s desk showed cigarette butts only. The importer, evidently not a cigar smoker, would not have dropped a discarded cigar outside the door of his house.
A link between Worth Varden and Seth Cowry was a surety. The Shadow was seeking some trace of that connection. His keen eyes observed the blank sheet of gray paper. The Shadow lifted it from the desk.
Here was paper unlike any other in Varden’s study. Cardona had found it with Varden’s papers. That indicated that this sheet was intended as part of the false evidence that would go against Varden.
The Shadow held the paper to the light. No trace of any writing was visible. Yet The Shadow, as he keenly studied the gray paper, saw a fact which Cardona had not noticed. The sheet of gray paper was double!
DESPITE the thin gloves that covered them, The Shadow’s fingers were deft. They peeled the paper; it came loose and separated into two individual sheets. The gum which held them was present only at the edges.
Once more The Shadow laughed. He saw the purpose of this doubled sheet. Between the portions, a message could be written — yet the inscription would be invisible until one held the paper to the light. Nevertheless, the gray paper was blank. Why?
The Shadow had the answer. His whispered laugh gave sibilant tone to his thoughts. Worth Varden had called Joe Cardona, and had mentioned that he possessed data which concerned Seth Cowry. Later, a visitor had called on Varden; and the importer had probably told him of the call to Cardona.
Varden must have possessed a message inscribed between two sheets of gray paper. The visitor must have realized that Varden could have told Cardona something regarding such a message. Hence the visitor, returning to Varden’s, had deliberately left a blank sheet of double gray paper to replace the one that had held a message to Varden.
Such was The Shadow’s deduction. The Shadow knew, from Cardona’s rejection of the gray paper, that the detective knew nothing of a mysterious note. Probably Varden had not mentioned it to Cardona. But The Shadow was picturing the mental state of the man who had come here to plant a forged confession.
As yet, The Shadow had found nothing that gave him a direct lead to Ruggles Preston, pretended friend of Worth Varden. Yet The Shadow had pictured Preston as an existing person. Furthermore, he had made a very close analysis of Preston’s actions on this night, even to the mental processes in which Preston had indulged.
Footsteps were approaching. Cardona and Markham were returning. Carrying the discarded gray paper with him, The Shadow swept quickly from the room. The door closed softly. When Cardona and Markham entered the study, the key was turning in the lock, manipulated from the opposite side of the door.
Neither Cardona nor Markham saw the turning key. Cardona opened the desk drawer; took out the San Salvador documents, and the forged note. He unlocked the door which The Shadow had just closed. With Markham following, Cardona strode out into the night.
When the coupe had pulled away, a splotch of blackness moved beneath a street lamp. A soft whisper sounded in the night. The Shadow moved through darkness.
Joe Cardona had completed his investigation at Worth Varden’s. So had The Shadow. The detective had formed his theory. The Shadow, too, had formed a theory. But where Cardona had merely fallen into the channel set for him, and had been deceived by Ruggles Preston’s work, The Shadow had used keen deduction to learn the truth of matters that had occurred at Worth Varden’s home.
LATER, the bluish light appeared within The Shadow’s black-walled sanctum. White hands appeared upon the polished table. The girasol glimmered while The Shadow inscribed orders in his special code.
One order was to Cliff Marsland. It instructed The Shadow’s agent in the underworld to continue his investigation of Seth Cowry’s affairs.
The other order was to Harry Vincent. The Shadow was instructing that young man to make a preliminary investigation that would involve the friends and business associates of Worth Varden.
The orders were completed. The Shadow folded the sheets before the vivid blue ink had time to disappear. Each message went into a separate envelope. The Shadow addressed each one, and placed both together in a larger envelope.
This container was addressed to Rutledge Mann, in the Badger Building, New York City. Its legend was in ink that would not fade. To-morrow, Mann would give the coded orders to Marsland and Vincent, respectively, when they called at his office.
The white hands moved. Something appeared between them. It was the gray paper — the doubled sheet that had separated into two. The hidden eyes of The Shadow considered it; a soft laugh rippled from The Shadow’s lips.
In this gray paper, The Shadow saw the hidden hand of a master-schemer. He knew that Worth Varden had been handled only by minions; that behind the disappearance of the importer lay the craft of a supercrook.
The blue light flicked out. The laugh of The Shadow rose to its crescendo and died away. It was a presaging laugh. The Shadow knew that ways of crime must soon be met; that stirring episodes lay ahead.
As yet, The Shadow had not learned the identity of the enemy whom he must meet; nevertheless, he had seen the evidence of fiendish craftsmanship. The Shadow had sensed the hidden power of Gray Fist.
Deep silence pervaded the blackened sanctum. Mystery held sway. The Shadow had fared forth in search of an enemy who dealt in crime. When The Shadow set out on such adventure, fierce conflict was intended.
The might of The Shadow was nearing a clash with the power of a superfiend. Soon, Gray Fist would find himself compelled to meet the master fighter who was coming from the dark to put an end to crime!
CHAPTER VI
MINIONS AT WORK
IN deputing duties to his agents, The Shadow had chosen wisely. All those who served him were men of capability, well suited to the tasks to which they had been assigned.
The disappearance of Worth Varden, following the prolonged absence of Seth Cowry, showed a direct link between a man of supposed respectability and a racketeer whose habitat was the underworld. Thus, while Cliff Marsland still worked upon the Cowry case, Harry Vincent had been ordered to study matters from the other angle, through an investigation of Varden’s affairs.
On the morning following The Shadow’s visit to Worth Varden’s home, Harry Vincent called at the office of Rutledge Mann, in response to a telephone call from the investment broker. There he received his instructions. He started at once upon his assigned task.
No news of Varden’s disappearance had reached the newspapers. Joe Cardona was looking into the matter of the San Salvador Importing Company. Nothing had broken from that angle. Hence, when Harry Vincent visited the office of Worth Varden, he was informed only that the importer was out of town.
Harry possessed the manner of a prosperous young business man. He stated that he would call again within a few days; and although he decided to keep his business for discussion with Worth Varden alone, he did condescend to enter into conversation with a bespectacled secretary who worked in Varden’s office.