“You mean—”
“That we may, by that time, have captured this man who signs himself The Black Falcon.”
It was Cardona’s turn to be perplexed. Weston seemed triumphant as he referred to the letter. He pointed to certain sentences; then spoke slowly.
“This message,” he declared, “is carefully worded. Here, for instance, the writer states that he expects to act before midnight. Next, he states that he will kidnap another person of wealth. Finally, he specifies within the limits of New York City.
“Why does he say midnight? Because, evidently, he knows where a certain person will be up to that hour. Why does he say person instead of man? Because that person may be a woman. Why does he say within the limits of New York City? Because the criminal may have been thinking of some portion of the metropolis other than Manhattan.
“My theory, Cardona, is that the criminal expects to raid some residence where a number of wealthy guests may be assembled. That will give him the opportunity to seize the victim that may be most available. Such a spot would very probably be somewhere on Long Island.”
“Maybe,” agreed Cardona. “But you’re taking a long shot there, commissioner—”
“One moment,” interposed Weston, quietly. “My original thoughts were vague, yet good in theory. While I was awaiting your arrival, Cardona, I looked through the newspapers to learn of society events scheduled for tonight. I learned that Elias Carthers, the tobacco magnate, is giving an exclusive reception for his niece, at his Long Island home.”
“You called Carthers?”
“I did. I learned that the guests will not arrive until after ten o’clock. While talking to Carthers, I had what you would term a hunch. I asked him if he knew Hubert Apprison. I learned that Apprison had been expected as a guest at the Carthers’ home tonight.
“We are dealing with a smart crook, Cardona. The Black Falcon — Velvet Laffrey for the present — must have learned facts regarding the exclusive social set which contains both Hubert Apprison and Elias Carthers. Viewing the situation from the criminal’s angle, I should say that his most logical action would be to abduct some one who is present at the Carthers’ reception tonight.”
Impulsively, Joe Cardona pulled a watch from his pocket. The time showed twenty minutes before ten. Commissioner Weston was smiling as the detective looked up with an anxious gaze.
“That is the reason,” remarked Weston, “why you and I are leaving at once in my car. It has been waiting below since half past nine. We shall require less than half an hour for our journey.”
RISING, the commissioner pressed a button on the desk. The front door of the office opened. Kempton appeared and stood in military attitude.
“We are leaving, Kempton,” remarked Weston, “Detective Cardona and I are going to the home of Elias Carthers, on Long Island.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Also, Kempton,” added Weston, as an afterthought, “I do not want any one to know where we have gone. No one, Kempton. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
His final admonition given, Weston beckoned to Cardona. Together, the commissioner and the detective left the apartment. As they entered Weston’s limousine, which was waiting on the street, Joe Cardona smiled a grin of secret elation.
The ace sleuth was a man who followed hunches. He liked them, even when others supplied them. Joe Cardona was convinced that tonight, he and Commissioner Ralph Weston would have their opportunity to forestall the crook whom Joe believed to be Velvet Laffrey.
Two keen men of the law were setting forth to outwit The Black Falcon!
CHAPTER V
THE SHADOW’S MOVE
A CLICK sounded in a pitch-black room. A glimmering light of blue cast its eerie sheen upon the polished surface of a table. White hands appeared beneath the strange illumination. Upon one appeared a sparkling jewel of ever changing hues.
The hands moved away. Something crinkled beyond the range of light. The hands reappeared, bringing with them the paper-encircled band of bank notes that The Shadow had wrested from Rowdy Kirshing.
The pile of pelf meant nothing to The Shadow. The token on the hand, however, was significant. Well did The Shadow divine the meaning of that blackened falcon feather. It was the sign of a perpetrator of crime, a crook de luxe who had paid for aid obtained through Rowdy Kirshing.
A white hand stretched across the table. It produced a pair of earphones. A tiny light glimmered on the wall. A voice came over the wire:
“Burbank speaking.”
“Instructions,” replied the voice of The Shadow, as it shuddered through the gloom. “Tell Marsland to obtain information concerning Terry Rukes, gang leader.”
“Instructions received,” returned the quiet tones of Burbank.
“Reports.” The Shadow’s voice hissed from the dark.
“None received,” came Burbank’s answer.
The earphones clicked back into place. The hands of The Shadow returned to the table. In this brief conversation, the master who ferreted crime had spoken to Burbank, his contact man.
Through Burbank, The Shadow’s instructions would go to Cliff Marsland, a stalwart agent who served The Shadow in the underworld. It would be Cliff’s task to seek facts concerning the whereabouts of Terry Rukes, the man whose name Rowdy Kirshing had gasped in confession.
The feather on the stack of bills! A tantalizing clew, it baffled further traces. The Shadow had been forced to slay Rowdy Kirshing in order to save his own life. The one man who might have furnished information thus was dead. Yet The Shadow had gained a step tonight.
Upon a piece of white paper, the right hand inscribed three names, as follows:
Velvet Laffrey
Rowdy Kirshing
Terry Rukes.
Solemnly, The Shadow crossed out the central name. Rowdy Kirshing had been obliterated. The racketeer had served purely as a go-between.
Then, from the stack of bills, The Shadow’s hand removed the falcon feather. The black plume dropped from the long white fingers. It fell directly upon the name of Velvet Laffrey.
THERE was significance in the action. Some master crook — he who used a falcon feather as his signature — was the abductor of Hubert Apprison. Was that man Velvet Laffrey?
The Shadow’s action denoted present doubt. Until further evidence was gained, The Shadow would let that telltale feather cover the name that lay beneath it.
Fate had been freakish tonight. The Shadow, following Rowdy Kirshing’s trail of easy money, had found the odd emblem of the one who had supplied the racketeer with cash. Meanwhile, Police Commissioner Weston had held an actual letter from the same supercrook.
The man who had defied the police had ignored The Shadow. Well for him that he had. With the letter as further evidence, The Shadow might have gained a prompt and effective trail. As it was, The Shadow, through active efforts, had gained less than had the police through purely passive behavior!
Commissioner Ralph Weston and Detective Joe Cardona had gone to a spot where they believed that crime would strike. They had followed evidence that a supercrook had deliberately provided. Meanwhile, The Shadow, whose keenness had outstripped that of the law enforcers, had gained a clew that could lead to no definite action on this night.
The little light gleamed from the wall. The Shadow reached for the earphones. The voice of Burbank came quietly over the wire.
“Report from Marsland,” announced the contact man. “No facts whatever concerning Velvet Laffrey. The man has disappeared. Instructions given to Marsland. He will look up Rukes.”