“Mandrez means nothing, Valdo,” interrupted Casper. “I must search for the man who has the gems. If I find him, I shall take them from him. Mandrez had my promise. I am the one who should have the gems.
“But where to find them?” Casper shrugged his shoulders and frowned unpleasantly. “New York is a large city, Valdo. Hundreds of persons here have wealth.”
Valdo was grinning. From beneath his arm, the gypsy had drawn the newspaper which he had purchased in the subway station. He waved the journal toward Casper, pointing with a brown finger.
CASPER took the sheet. His eyes studied the headlines. These told of the fight at Brandley Croman’s; how Joe Cardona and his raiders had shattered the strongest band of burglars in Manhattan.
The Shadow, peering through the curtains, could see a look of perplexity on Rodney Casper’s face. He also observed the wide smile that still showed on Valdo’s lips. Watching intently, The Shadow waited for the words that were to follow.
“How can this help us?” questioned Casper. “A gang of beaten crooks. What do they mean to us?”
“Very much,” grinned Valdo. “Read what is said in the paper. How those men had robbed many houses; how each time they could tell where things were to be stolen.”
“You mean that some one gave them information?”
“Yes.”
“And you know the person?”
“Yes.” Valdo became voluble. “It is this way, senor. When I come to New York to look for Mandrez, I need a place where I can stay. There is a woman here — yek Romni, she be — and I go to see her.
Madame Lorenna, she is called. I am told by the chief of the Rom to look for her.
“Madame Lorenna can tell fortunes. Very, very well. Much money comes to her, because she had a man who can take her to fine places. This man — he is gajo — they call — I forget the word they call him—”
“Her manager,” interposed Casper.
“That is it,” nodded Valdo. “That is it: the manager. He goes with Lorenna. She reads palms” — Valdo paused to spread his hand; then to clench his fist — “and she takes much money. But this gajo — bah! — he wants more.
“I live in the house with him and Lorenna. She and I talk, in Romany. She knows nothing. But I learn what the gajo is doing. All that Lorenna learns, she tells to him. He tells it to this gang man” — Valdo tapped the newspaper that Casper held — “to this one called Marty Lunk. Then the gang goes to the houses — to places where Lorenna learned that people have the money. They steal shtor, panch, shav — four, five, six times — until the police, they finish them last night.”
“Who is this manager?” quizzed Casper, suddenly. “What is his name?”
“He is called Claude Jerwyn,” responded Valdo.
“Is he implicated?” demanded Casper. “What I mean is, do the police know that he was working with Lunk?”
“No.” Valdo shook his head. “They do not know. That is why it will be good for us. Lorenna — she will still go to see people who have much money. These women — these foolish gaje — they tell her everything. They come to the house, sometimes. There are two of them tonight.
“But Jerwyn — he cannot tell the gang any more. They paid him money for what he told them. He will want more money. How is he to get it? I tell you. I go to Jerwyn. I say — would you like to get many thousand dollars? Twenty-five thousand — maybe fifty thousand?
“He will say ‘yes’ to me. I will tell him. He must take Lorenna many places among the gaje who have money. She must try to find who has seen gems from Spain. When she find that — and Lorenna is very, very smart — you can get those gems that Mandrez did not bring to you.”
RODNEY CASPER’S eyes were gleaming. Shrewd orbs peering from beneath a furrowed brow, they seemed to acquiesce to Valdo’s scheme. Casper crumpled the newspaper in his hand. Here, on its front page, was proof of Lorenna’s worth.
“You have found the way, Valdo!” exclaimed the man who had arrived from South America. “If Jerwyn got by with that game, while working with a band of gangsters, he can certainly get results for me.
“Go to him, Valdo. Tell him the truth — but not too much. Mention Mandrez; tell him about me, but not where I am stopping. Be cautious, Valdo. Be sure to convince him that I can handle this job alone. I want the information. I will pay for it.”
“I know,” nodded Valdo. “I tell Jerwyn that these crooks are nothing. That the man I know is better than them all. In France, in England, in South America — he goes everywhere. He can steal from any one—”
“That’s the idea, Valdo. Make it strong. It’s a safe game for Jerwyn, now that Lunk’s band has been beaten. One robbery will be all — you can tell Jerwyn that — and he will not even know the name of the man concerned in it!”
Approaching the chair where Valdo was seated, Casper slapped the gypsy on the back. Valdo’s smile gleamed. The dark-skinned man arose. He received Casper’s proffered hand; they exchanged partings in Spanish. Valdo left.
Rodney Casper finished his cigarette and threw it in an ash stand. His face wore a cunning smile as he strolled from the living room. He closed the door of the bedroom behind him.
The catch of the French windows seemed to move upward of its own accord. A black-garbed figure entered. The Shadow closed the windows and locked them behind him. He glided across the floor and unlocked the door to the hall.
After that door was closed, a slight click marked its locking. The Shadow had used his pick from the outside. Silence followed. The living room was empty, so was the corridor beyond.
The Shadow had departed. He had learned the details of the coming game. His work, however, was not yet ended. The Shadow was on his way to study the completion of Valdo’s scheme.
CHAPTER VII. AT JERWYN’S
HARRY VINCENT was still watching the house across the street. The limousine was still there. Two hours had elapsed since its arrival. The chauffeur, pacing back and forth beside the curb, seemed impatient.
Then some activity. The door of the house opened. The white-coated ladies appeared upon the steps.
They entered the car; it drove away. The door of the house closed.
Harry glanced along the street. He saw an approaching figure. He recognized the gait. It was the same man who had left earlier in the evening. Valdo was returning. Harry watched him enter by the side of the house.
Yet Harry, though he had spotted Valdo easily, had failed to observe another form that had appeared before the house opposite. He did not see the blackened shape that glided toward the front steps. He did not see the darkened outline against the doorway of the house.
The Shadow had picked Valdo’s destination. He, too, had come to this secluded spot. He, like the gypsy, was entering the home of Lorenna, the fortune teller. Clicks — barely audible — announced the progress of The Shadow’s bold plan of entry. The front door moved inward. An edging form cut off light from within. The door closed.
The Shadow reached a dim hallway. A door, at the right, was ajar. Mellow light came from the room.
The Shadow peered through the opening. The room was unoccupied; the light revealed a scene of barbaric splendor.
The room was decorated in gypsy style; but the furnishings were more lavish than those seen in any gypsy camp. Red velvet curtains; cushioned chairs and sofa trimmed with gold; hanging tapestries with gorgeous borders — these were the features of Lorenna’s reading room.
A chart hung on the further wall. It showed a human hand, in enormous scale, with the mounts and lines marked by cabalistic signs. Evidently none but Madame Lorenna could decipher these cryptic symbols.
Incense hung heavy in the room. The atmosphere seemed charged with a dreamy lull. This was the place where Lorenna had received the two society women who had come by limousine.