Maxwell Grant
Kings Of Crime
CHAPTER I
THE SHADOW LISTENS
A WEIRD, mellow light pervaded the somber, black-walled room. The glow had a purplish tinge, and its strange rays centered themselves in a single corner, where they reflected the shining surface of a polished tabletop.
All was silent in that room. It bore the semblance of a chamber of death; and most mysterious of all was the spectral figure that sat before the table. Clothed in a cloak of jet-black hue, with visage obscured by the broad brim of a black slouch hat, this personage possessed the eerie quality of an apparition.
The Shadow was in his sanctum!
A ghostly being, shrouded by darkness, he awaited a message from some outside source. The very walls of the room in which The Shadow dwelt seemed to melt away into nothingness.
Somewhere in New York — in this amazing spot that was known to himself alone — The Shadow was formulating a plan to thwart the plots of evildoers.
A light glowed across the table. Its sudden appearance brought a strange response from the being garbed in black. A creepy sound shuddered through that secret room — a sound that formed itself into a mocking laugh, uttered by unseen lips.
The laugh died away; but its echoes responded from the hidden walls. Those echoes were convulsive reverberations that might have been the cry of a host of ghoulish demons, so unreal was their tone!
A white hand stretched forth from the black robe. Its appearance was uncanny, for it moved like a detached creature as it crept across the surface of the table. The hand stopped upon a switch that was attached to a black box on the wall.
On the third finger of the hand shone a shimmering gem, a rare fire opal that glimmered with ever-changing shades.
From deep maroon, the jewel changed to a purplish hue that blended with the pervading light. Then its rays were a light blue; again they became a firelike red, shining from uncalculable depths.
That stone was The Shadow’s girasol — a priceless gem, unmatched in all the world — the solitary symbol of The Shadow!
The switch clicked softly. A whispered voice spoke through the purplish gloom.
“Report.”
A quiet voice answered from the wall.
“Burbank speaking. Contact arranged with Seaview City. Vincent has opened interior wire connection. Ready for direct communication by radio.”
“Proceed.”
Silence followed the whispered order. Then came a slight clicking from the wall. After that, a confused murmur gradually developed itself into the distinct voices of men, speaking.
The hand pressed a button at the side of the table. The purplish light faded. Thus, immersed in total darkness, The Shadow had become an unseen member of a group of unsuspecting men miles away from New York City!
Through his amazing genius and the cooperation of his trusted operatives, this mysterious presence had invoked mechanical aid to place himself where he could hear without being seen.
The serious counsel of certain men was being brought directly to The Shadow’s consideration. From the hidden depths of his sanctum, he could both consider and advise.
MASTER of the unknown, The Shadow had a purpose in this self-appointed task. His identity a secret, his strange habitation undiscovered, The Shadow, more than any other person, was equipped to battle crime.
That, alone, was the clew to The Shadow’s presence in this sanctum, and his actions tonight. When The Shadow prepared, it could be for one purpose only. The thwarting of master plotters was The Shadow’s work.
A voice was speaking from the invisible box upon the wall. Its tones were deliberate and precise. It was the voice of a man who had authority.
Other voices responded. One was friendly — another was gruff — a third was wheedling. A friendly laugh of greeting broke into the conversation.
A sudden lull followed. Then, amid subdued murmurs, came the rapping of a solid object upon a table. A meeting was in order. The buzzing died away.
A clock began to chime. Its slow strokes sounded nine. A few snatches of low conversation were interrupted by another warning series of raps.
With complete silence gained, the important-sounding voice began to speak. No one interrupted. Quiet listeners were intent.
Among those listeners was The Shadow!
CHAPTER II
THE SHADOW’S WARNING
“IT is nine o’clock. Let us attend to business.”
The speaker was Rufus Cruikshank, newly elected mayor of Seaview City. Firm-faced, immaculate in attire, important in bearing, he commanded the respect of those about him.
Cruikshank was seated at a large table in the Green Room of the new Hotel Pavilion. Congregated about him were the most important citizens of Seaview City. These men constituted the Public Safety Committee of the prosperous shore resort.
“Our new administration,” declared Cruikshank, in his dignified tone, “faces a most important task. Seaview City, gentlemen, has grown to remarkable proportions. It is our task to govern it with wisdom and discretion.
“We have at our disposal a capable police force, headed by an excellent officer. I believe that we all have confidence in our police chief, George Yates. He is here tonight to cooperate with us in our conference.”
Cruikshank ceased speaking to turn to the end of the table, where a stalwart, red-faced man in uniform was sitting in an uncomfortable pose. The chief’s beefy countenance reddened even more as he saw all eyes turned in his direction. Yates uttered a gruff acknowledgment of the mayor’s introduction.
“We can rely upon Chief Yates,” resumed Cruikshank. “He has orders to report directly to me in every matter. It is my duty to take up all his important findings with this committee. Therefore, gentlemen, I think that it would be wise for us to hear what the chief has to say.”
Chief Yates arose at these words. He was tall and heavily built, and made a good figure despite his bulkiness. Once on his feet, he experienced little difficulty in talking.
“Policing this city,” he said, in a booming voice, “is a special kind of matter that is different from a lot of places. People come here to enjoy themselves. We’ve got to take that into consideration.
“There’s restrictions we’ve got to enforce, and the more sensible they are, the better. That’s what I’ve found out. It’s up to you, gentlemen, to decide what you want done, and I’m the fellow to do it. But if I can help by giving any suggestions, I’ll do it when I’m called on.”
Yates looked around him questioningly. He seemed to be awaiting interrogation. A sharp-faced man seated beside the mayor took up the opportunity immediately. This was Louis Helwig, one of the principal promoters of Seaview City.
“What about the closing hours on night clubs?” he questioned.
“There’s an ordinance says one o’clock,” responded the police chief. “It hasn’t been regularly enforced. The way it’s worded don’t make it official, unless we want to put the clamps on. Then we’ve got it to use.”
“Can you use it?”
“Yes.”
“On what basis?”
“On complaints. It don’t affect any except the ones we’ve got the complaints on.”
“That appears satisfactory.” Louis Helwig nodded as he spoke.
His nod was taken up by a man who sat beside him. This individual was a square-faced, businesslike man, Raymond Coates by name. He was the principal real-estate dealer in Seaview City.
MAYOR CRUIKSHANK alone appeared doubtful. He shook his head slowly.
“It seems to me,” he announced, “that varied interpretation of a closing ordinance can lead to both trouble and criticism. We must have an effective weapon to deal with public nuisances.