“You will aid my friend to the door, Stanley.” It was the voice of Lamont Cranston. “He is not well. He wishes to see Doctor Sayre.”
Cliff arose as a strong arm pressed beneath his back. Steadied by the unseen hand of The Shadow, he stepped from the door as Stanley opened it. The chauffeur aided Cliff to the door of a doctor’s office.
Watching from the limousine, The Shadow saw his agent enter when the door had opened. He also glimpsed the form of Doctor Rupert Sayre. To this young physician, the name of Lamont Cranston meant obedience to orders. The Shadow knew that Cliff Marsland would receive attention, without question.
“Uptown, Stanley.” The order came as the chauffeur reentered the front seat of the limousine. “I shall tell you where to stop.”
“Yes, sir.”
A huge advertising clock was chiming the hour of ten as the limousine passed it near Times Square.
Taking an eastbound street, Stanley shot the car to greater speed.
A weird laugh sounded in the darkness. Another hour of action had arrived. Necessary delay had slowed The Shadow in his progress. Yet The Shadow knew that coming events might also linger.
Once again, the master of the night was hastening to block the moving trail of Marty Lunk.
CHAPTER XIV. SWIFT BATTLE
TEN o’clock. This was the hour that Claude Jerwyn had set for Valdo’s return. Later, the cadaverous schemer had sent word for Marty Lunk to arrive before that hour.
Valdo and Jerwyn — each was but the pawn of a shrewd worker. Valdo had carried word to Rodney Casper. Jerwyn had sought the aid of Marty Lunk. In this conflict of pawns, Jerwyn had chosen the safer course.
To The Shadow, Valdo and Jerwyn were but of minor consequence. Valdo had led The Shadow to Rodney Casper. Jerwyn had been the pointing hand to Marty Lunk. So far as Casper was concerned, The Shadow had chosen a waiting game. The shrewd man from abroad had not yet shown a hand of crime. Whatever deeds he plotted were to come.
Marty Lunk, however, was a different case. The Shadow had watched him in the past — as he was watching Casper now — and had trapped the mobleader in the act of burglary. The Shadow’s score with Lunk was an old one. It could be settled tonight.
The Shadow, moreover, was planning for the future. Rodney Casper was planning to seize the Spanish gems now owned by Hampton Uhler. The Shadow could control that situation when it came.
Interference by Marty Lunk, though it might balk Rodney Casper, could likewise hinder The Shadow’s plans. Elimination of the malicious mobleader and his newly formed crew was a preparatory step before the coming climax.
The Shadow, however, had devoted valuable time to the welfare of his wounded agent, Cliff Marsland.
Marty Lunk had gained a long start. He had found ample time to reach Claude Jerwyn’s before ten.
Now, as that hour struck, Valdo was making his arrival.
THE side door opened. The gypsy stepped into the silent house. He advanced with catlike tread. His eyes gleamed as he saw the light burning in the downstairs room. That light; the door ajar — both were tokens of Jerwyn’s presence.
Valdo ascended the stairs. He reached the door of Lorenna’s room. A light gleamed from beneath it.
Valdo, as he rapped, noted darkness beneath the opposite door — Jerwyn’s.
Lorenna’s voice. Valdo entered. He closed the door behind him. Jerwyn had balked him of an earlier interview. This time, Valdo had words to say before descending the stairs to encounter the manager. He spoke tersely, whispering in the Gypsy tongue.
Lorenna replied. Her questions were eager. Valdo was explaining all. He trusted Lorenna. She was a gypsy woman — romni. The word “gajo” — contemptuously whispered — was Valdo’s reference to Jerwyn.
Then came his statements concerning Casper, suavely uttered: “baro rai kushto rai.”
“Tu penghias manghe,” nodded Lorenna. “Baro, kushto rai sas-lo—”
The words ended. The woman’s lips were frozen. Valdo, wheeling suddenly, stared toward the door.
The barrier had opened. Jerwyn was standing there, a short-barreled revolver clenched in his right fist.
Entering slowly, the cadaverous man closed the door behind him. He kept his left hand on the knob, ready to open it on an instant’s notice. His gun cornered Valdo; his words, however, were addressed to Lorenna.
“What were you saying?” he demanded. “What was that I heard when I came in?”
“Valdo tell me about thees man,” returned Lorenna, trembling as she spoke. “I say to him: ‘You have told me. He ees great, good gentleman.’ that ees all I have to say.”
“I told you to stay out of here.” snapped Jerwyn, turning to Valdo. “That is why I stayed up in my room. I wanted to see if you would sneak here to talk to Lorenna.”
“I do not find you downstairs.” retorted Valdo, blandly. “I come up. I see no light in your room. I come here to ask Lorenna where you are.”
“So that’s it, eh?” Jerwyn was half convinced. He lowered the revolver. “Well — I’ll let it pass.” He dropped his tone to a hoarse growl. “Where is the money this good gentleman sent? You have it?”
“No.” Valdo shook his head.
“What?” Jerwyn’s eyes blinked. The man seemed stupefied. “I told you not to come back until you had the money. What is this — a stall?”
“It is this way.” Valdo’s explanatory tone was confident. “He has sent for the money. Far away — to Europe. It will be tomorrow night.”
“Yes?” snarled Jerwyn. “I thought a Rom would keep his promise. You are a liar, Valdo — worse than any gajo.”
The challenge was too much to the gypsy’s pride. Valdo, his point half-gained, made a gross mistake. His sneering voice was a match for Jerwyn’s.
“Yek Rom” — Valdo stared fiercely — “he will always do what he say — except when gajo—”
“Na!” interrupted Lorenna. “Valdo — na!”
Jerwyn might have missed the inference but for Lorenna’s frantic gasp to Valdo. The woman had completed Valdo’s error.
“Gajo,” repeated Jerwyn, raising his revolver. “That means me, eh? You keep your promise — except when I do not keep mine. Is that it?”
Valdo made no reply.
“All right,” resumed Jerwyn. “If you want a show down, I’ll let you have it. You think I’ve double-crossed you. I have. I’ve got men here — three of them — and Marty Lunk is one. Do you know why? To kill you, Valdo.
“This crook you’re working for may be smart. I didn’t think it when he passed over five grand for my asking. I thought I could hook him for thirty more — twenty, at the least.
“I was going to take the dough and let you take the bump. Now you show up without the cash. That smart crook is wise at last. Wanted you to sound me out and then come back to him. Well — you aren’t going back. Savvy?”
Jerwyn grinned as he gestured with the gun. His left hand was still clinging to the door knob. Although armed, Jerwyn was taking no chances with the gypsy. A whelp of crime, Jerwyn lacked the murderer’s nerve — not through inclination, but through yellowness.
“Now I’ve told you.” Jerwyn found braveness in his own snarl. “Now let’s hear you squawk. I’ll let you go if you tell me where I can reach that smart crook. Maybe he’s got more than thirty grand. I’ll divvy with Marty Lunk if he gets the guy.”
“You think that I will tell?” Valdo’s prompt reply was disdainful. “You say, that you will kill me even if I have bring the money. You ask me the name — I know that you will kill if I tell.”
JERWYN scowled. He had overplayed his hand. Valdo’s logic was indisputable. So long as the gypsy refused to reveal the name of Rodney Casper, Claude Jerwyn would be balked. Jerwyn, confronted by a dilemma, looked for some new plan of action.