THE SHADOW glided from the doorway. He gained the darkened stairway just as a tall, cadaverous man appeared in the hall. This was evidently Claude Jerwyn. The Shadow saw him enter the reading room, to close it for the night.
Silently, The Shadow reached the second floor. Here was a hallway, with deep, old-fashioned doorways. The Shadow glided to the end of the hall. He noted a light beneath a door on the left. He could hear the murmur of voices.
There was a door straight ahead. It was locked. The Shadow’s pick probed the keyhole. The simple lock yielded a moment later. The Shadow entered what appeared to be a disused store room. He noted a door on the left — with light beneath.
The pick worked carefully. Inch by inch, The Shadow pressed the door inward until he gained a slight crevice. Staring through the opening, he observed another room furnished in gypsy style. Less splendid than the downstairs apartment, this was evidently Lorenna’s living room.
Two people were engaged in conversation. One was Valdo, with his gleaming smile. The other was a dark-skinned woman of unusual beauty — Madam Lorenna.
“Tu, tu, so penghias manghe?” came Valdo’s dialect. “Jav. Tu kanmadesa o love—”
“Ava,” broke in the woman. “O gajo—”
Coin ear-rings jingled as Lorenna turned toward the door of the room. Claude Jerwyn had entered. His expression showed fury as he stared at Valdo.
“I told you to cut out that gypsy jabber,” he fumed. “If you want to talk to Lorenna, use English. What were you saying to her, anyway?”
“Lorenna spoke to me,” returned Valdo, calmly. “I asked her: ‘What did you say to me? I go. You will give me money?’ “
“Did you tell him that, Lorenna?” questioned Jerwyn, angrily.
“Yes,” replied the gypsy woman, in a defiant tone. “I am afraid for Valdo. He is Rom; you are gajo. You do not like him—”
“Get this,” yapped Jerwyn. “Valdo is welcome around this joint if he minds his own business. But this gypsy gabble is out. How do I know what he’s telling you?”
Valdo was on his feet. He shrugged his shoulders and spread his hands disparagingly.
“It is well, Lorenna,” he declared. “I will talk with this gajo. He and I will be friends.”
“Yes,” returned Jerwyn, sourly. “You stay here, Lorenna. I want to talk with Valdo.”
The woman watched anxiously as the two men left the room. She did not see the closing of the door to the store room. When The Shadow reached the hall door, he heard Jerwyn unlocking the door of the room opposite to Lorenna’s. Moving back through the store room, The Shadow found the door that he required. The pick worked; the door opened slightly. The Shadow peered into the second room just as Jerwyn and Valdo entered.
The cadaverous man locked the hall door. Valdo watched him half suspiciously; yet the gypsy’s smile was one of contempt. Jerwyn swung to face his companion.
“I’ve got something to ask you, Valdo!” he snarled. “Where did you go from here last night?”
“Why do you ask that?” questioned Valdo.
“You know why.” Jerwyn’s tone was vicious. “There was trouble last night. The cops put a nice crimp into a good game. Somebody squealed — somebody that was wise—”
Valdo’s hands had risen. His fingers were moving as though they longed to clutch Jerwyn’s throat. The cadaverous man stopped short as Valdo spat an interruption.
“You think I tell?” The gypsy’s tone was fierce. “You think I tell? That is because you are gajo. Pah! No Rom tells to police.”
Valdo’s eyes were glaring. Jerwyn had backed across the room, adopting a defensive attitude. Valdo’s rage subsided. The gypsy dropped his hands.
“You think I tell?” This time Valdo laughed contemptuously. “You think I make trouble for Lorenna?”
This was logic. Jerwyn’s pale lips formed a shrewd, thoughtful smile. He knew the clannish traits of the gypsies. He realized how treachery, on the part of Valdo, could bring trouble to Lorenna. Yet the last trace of suspicion remained in Jerwyn’s mind. The cadaverous man voiced it to Valdo.
“All right, Valdo,” wheedled Jerwyn. “I know you wouldn’t try to make trouble for Lorenna. But” — the speaker paused emphatically — “it was mighty suspicious, the way you went out of here last night. You pulled a sneak — you came back — a couple of hours later, there’s trouble for Marty Lunk.
“Tonight, you slide out while I’m busy arranging for Lorenna’s readings. Now you’re back again. What I want to know is where you’ve been — and why—”
“Yes,” bowed Valdo. “You wish to know? That is the thing that I have come to tell you. I have found the way for very much money. Thousands of dollars—”
“Where?”
VALDO pulled the old clipping from the pocket of his jacket. He handed it to Jerwyn. The manager looked puzzled as he read about the body from the river.
“That is where I went last night,” informed Valdo. “To see if that man was the one I knew.”
“You were at the morgue?”
“Yes.”
“You recognized the drowned man?”
“Yes.”
“Who was he?”
“A man from Spain. His name — Mandrez. Listen, while I tell. This Mandrez, he was the servant of a great gentleman. His master — ah! Yek baro rai sas-lo — a great gentleman was he!”
“A Spanish grandee?”
“Yes. The Duke of Almanza. That is the name they would call him in this country. Bad trouble begins in Spain and—”
“The revolution?”
“Yes. The great people, they run away. Some servants, they run, too. Mandrez — he come to America. But he plan to go back to Spain.”
“Why?” Jerwyn’s question seemed eager.
“In the castle of Almanza,” confided Valdo, “are gems. They belong to the Duke of Almanza. Mandrez — he knows where they are hid. Mandrez — he goes back to Spain — to get those gems.”
“How do you know this, Valdo?”
“How?” Valdo laughed. “Because I was in Spain, with those Rom they call Gitanos. There was a man who sent Mandrez, a man who give Mandrez money to bring the gems to him.”
“A crook?”
“Yes,” Valdo grinned. “A smart crook. One who has been in many country. France — England — South America. This man knows me, Valdo. I, Valdo, know that he has sent Mandrez. I find that Mandrez takes the gems. But he does not go to the man who sent him. Mandrez comes here, to New York. I am too late to stop him.”
“Where was the crook who sent him?”
“In Buenos Aires.”
“I get it.” Jerwyn nodded. “An international crook, eh? Smart bird — with dough — but Mandrez double-crossed him.”
“Yes,” agreed Valdo. “You know what I think Mandrez do? He come here to New York. He sell those gems to some rai — to some gentleman with much money.”
“To get more dough than the smart crook offered him,” added Jerwyn. “Then some thugs grabbed hold of Mandrez. They cleaned him and dumped him in the river. I get it, Valdo.”
“There is more,” declared the gypsy, simply: “Last night, I see Mandrez in that place they call the morgue. Tonight, I see the other man.”
“The international crook?”
“Yes. I tell him that Mandrez is dead. He is angry, at first. Then he is quiet. He asks me — where are the gems? He can get them — if only he find out where they are. So I speak to him. I ask how much will he give to to find the man who has bought the gems from Mandrez.”
“What did he say?”
“Twenty-five thousand dollars.” replied the gypsy. “Maybe he give more than that. I tell him, I will find the gems. I tell him that I will talk with you. I tell him about Lorenna—”