The room proved to be a windowless affair. It was set in the exact center of the large square floor, using a portion of each of the four rooms which surrounded it. Big Tom sat at a heavy, flat-topped desk in the middle of the room. He brought out a box of imported perfectos. Chief Yates laid aside the remains of the cigar which he had received from Mayor Cruikshank, and took one of Big Tom’s smokes.
“Nice little office, eh?” inquired Big Tom.
“Very nice,” answered Yates. “Nice lot of rooms up here, too. Too nice for the overflow of a night club, unless—”
Big Tom smiled.
“Say it, chief,” he suggested.
“Well, gambling is your business,” responded Yates. “Maybe you think business is good at Seaview City.”
“What if I do?” smiled Big Tom Bagshawe.
“You’ll find it isn’t so good!” replied the police chief. “Listen, Bagshawe. The less trouble there is between you and me, the better we’ll both like it. Seaview City is a good-time spot, but it isn’t wide open, and it isn’t going to be. You’ve got a nice business downstairs. Keep the business down there.”
“Thanks, chief,” declared Big Tom slowly. “I think your advice is probably good.”
“It is good,” asserted Yates. “I’ve had some complaints in the past few weeks, and I came in here to look around. Maybe things have been exaggerated. I’m willing to give you a break. But take my tip and forget any ideas of a big-time gambling joint.
“If you want a quiet game — well, this is a pleasure resort, after all. But nothing big. Otherwise, there’ll be trouble.”
With this statement of policy, Chief Yates arose and left the office. Big Tom accompanied him to the door. They reached the anteroom, and Yates went downstairs.
Outside the Club Catalina, the police chief encountered the detective whom he had seen upstairs.
“What’s up, chief?” the man asked.
“Nothing, Parker,” retorted Yates. “I just dropped in to see that everything was all right, and that you were on the job.”
“Leave it to me, chief,” responded Parker. “I’m watching this place like a hawk.”
YATES felt satisfied when he left. He had been doubtful about Parker, but now he had full confidence in the man.
This surprise visit had been well timed. There had been nothing to excite suspicion. Even the doors upstairs had been unlocked. Chief Yates went on his way, convinced that the Club Catalina harbored no illegitimate enterprises.
Parker went back up the stairs. He was met by an attendant the moment that he arrived in the anteroom.
“O.K.,” said Parker.
The lock of the outer door clicked. The detective went into the bridge room and whispered the same message to another attendant. The second door clicked.
Big Tom Bagshawe, standing at one of the farther doors, made a short announcement. The bridge players, men and women, rose laughing from the tables and flocked into the other rooms.
Attendants were at work. The massive tables were opened to display roulette wheels. Others revealed faro layouts. The pianos against one wall proved to be mere dummy shells as they were rolled away. Behind them were gambling machines, built for a half-dollar slot play.
Word traveled rapidly downstairs. Privileged persons, seated in the Club Catalina, were secretly informed that the Goddess of Chance was again the ruling power in the establishment upstairs. A horde of eager visitors strode up the carpeted steps. Within fifteen minutes, money was clicking on the tables as more than fifty players staked their sums.
Moving here and there, Big Tom Bagshawe studied the faces of the visitors. He paused in a corner, to speak in an undertone to Parker, the detective. All was going well. Satisfied that there was not a suspicious person present, Big Tom went into his office.
It was a strange fact that during all his shrewd observations, the gambling king had seen no trace of the mysterious shadow that had preceded Chief Yates up the stairs. That shadow had not departed when the chief left. The steps from the Club Catalina were the only way for visitors to come and go.
Not having seen the black splotch that signified the presence of a living being, Big Tom did not notice the long streak of darkness that lay across the floor of his office, encroaching upon the edge of the desk. That shadow came from beside the open door of a wall cabinet.
There was no reason why Big Tom should suspect that a stranger had entered, for he had locked the door of the office when he and Chief Yates had departed. Perhaps Big Tom placed too much faith in locks. He was turning one now — the lock on his desk. It was a peculiar lock, set above the drawer, which also had a lock.
Big Tom pocketed his keys. He glanced at his watch and hurriedly arose from the desk. He turned out the light, went out of the room, and locked the door behind him.
Now, from a secluded spot, the gambler kept careful observation. He counted certain men as they entered by the outer door. One was Hooks Borglund; the second was Shifter Reeves. After a few minutes, Herbert Carpenter appeared.
Big Tom walked across the floor and opened the door of the office, glancing approvingly at his watch as he did so. Inside the room, he did not turn on the light. Instead, he sat in a chair that he found near the corner.
The door of the office opened softly, and another man came in. He was followed by others. When the door closed for the last time, the four kings were inside.
“All here?”
The gruff question came from the chair at the desk. It was the voice of Wheels Bryant, sovereign of this organization of crime!
Responses showed that all were present. The hidden leader began to talk in his usual domineering tone.
“THE Public Safety Committee met again, tonight,” he said. “Chief Yates is squawking. Says there’s dope around town. Worried about the coppers who have disappeared. Remember that, Shifter!”
“We had to bump them,” responded Reeves. “Two of them butted into the works out on the end of the pier. We took them out the way the stuff came in. That’s all. The third guy was a wisenheimer. Said he was going to blow the works. Found out plenty through dumb luck, just snooping around. One of the mob got him.”
“The body?”
“Went out with some boating supplies for storage. Sent it away, like the others.”
“Be careful in the future,” said Wheels. “Lay off killings if you can. Yates also squawked about Big Tom’s place, here.”
“He was in tonight,” laughed the gambler. “I’ve been expecting him. You told me to watch out, and I did, Wheels. He went away happy.”
“You are keeping the detectives greased?”
“Sure thing. Parker and Bass are the ones that hang around here. Guess Yates thinks I don’t know who they are. I know how to handle those fellows!”
“Run heavy from now on,” ordered Wheels. “Yates won’t bother you for a while. As for you, Shifter, keep easy. The dope’s moving fast; don’t try to speed it up.
“We’re all set for some big gravy, now. We’re counting on you, Carpenter. You’ve turned in half a dozen neat jobs; with Big Tom running heavy, you ought to land plenty. How about it?”
“I’m set for four,” returned Carpenter, in a smooth tone. “I can clean them up this week if you say the word.”
“Go to it. How much do you figure they’re worth?”
“Two hundred thousand, altogether — maybe more.”
“Two hundred grand!”
The exclamation came from Shifter Reeves. The speaker was silenced by a warning word from Wheels Bryant.
“You’re sure of that?” quizzed the ace.
“Reasonably sure,” asserted Carpenter calmly. “I’m landing the big one first — to-morrow night. Starting from here, I intend to wind up at the Hotel Pavilion.”