Maxwell Grant
The Black Hush
CHAPTER I. CARDONA GOES ON DUTY
THE spacious lobby of the Olympia Hotel presented an interesting study to the man who viewed it from a corner chair. No longer a pretentious establishment, the old hotel at least gained its share of patronage.
Nearly all of the chairs and lounge seats were filled, and many persons were strolling back and forth near the desk.
The man who was watching from the corner had chosen a spot which was quite inconspicuous.
Hunched in the chair, watching from a gloomy spot, Detective Joe Cardona was effectively avoiding recognition, and at the same time taking good measures to spot anyone whose features he might know.
The ace of New York sleuths was living up to his reputation.
Cardona’s watchful eyes picked out a small group of men who entered through a revolving door. The detective’s quick glance settled upon one individual — a heavy-built man of more than average height, whose chief item of attire was an expensive astrakhan coat. As this arrival strode across the lobby, he half turned his head in Cardona’s direction. Grinning at a companion’s remark, the man displayed a glimmer of gold in his thick-lipped mouth.
Cardona needed no further sign of recognition. This glitter from a full, heavy face was the identifying mark of Goldy Tancred. This was the man whose coming the detective had awaited.
AS Goldy and his friends crossed the lobby and entered an elevator, Cardona remained more watchful than before.
At length, satisfied by his inspection, Cardona arose and strolled toward the revolving door. He turned as he neared it, tracing his steps so that only his back could be seen from outside.
Shifting the position of his derby, the detective slowly changed his course, so that it neared the row of elevators.
Waiting for a car, Cardona spotted the outer door from the corners of his eyes. He saw another man enter and go to the seat which was now vacant at the edge of the lobby. Just the trace of a satisfied smile flickered on Cardona’s lips. This arrival was another detective who had come in response to Cardona’s signal at the revolving door.
“Ballroom floor,” announced Cardona, as the elevator ascended. “Which way to the Mohawk meeting?”
“Over to the right, sir,” responded the operator. “The meeting is in the Blue Room.”
“The Blue Room?” quizzed Cardona. “I was told that the crowd met in the Red Room.”
“They used to,” explained the operator as he brought the car to a stop, “but they changed it for this meeting. Go down to the right; turn at the end of the corridor. You’ll see the door.”
Reaching the Blue Room, the detective looked in through the door at an angle. He spied a waiter and beckoned to the man. He drew the attendant out beyond the screen.
“I want to speak to Mr. Tancred,” explained Cardona. “He just came in a few minutes ago. Wearing a fuzzy coat. Tell him a friend’s out here to see him.”
The waiter nodded. He went into the Blue Room.
Two minutes passed, then a head was thrust from the doorway. Cardona recognized the face. It was that of Bowser Riggins, a man who had come in with Goldy Tancred.
“Huh!” greeted Bowser. “It’s you, eh? O.K.”
He turned and waved to someone in the room. A moment later, Goldy Tancred appeared in person, to display his shining molars when he saw the detective.
“Wait inside for me, Bowser,” ordered Tancred.
Dressed in Tuxedo, the gold-toothed man made an imposing appearance despite the hardness of his heavy face. He joined Cardona outside the screen, and walked a few paces along the side passage. Then with a quizzical frown, he turned to the detective.
“What’s up?”
“You know what,” Cardona answered. “I’ve heard the boys are out to get you. What about it?”
“Listen, Joe,” Goldy was serious, “that’s all hooey — that talk about them being out to get me. I’m not in any racket. Never carried a gat in my life. Take a look, now. Do you think I’d be a sap if I was in danger?”
He spread the sides of his Tuxedo jacket, offering the detective an opportunity to frisk him for a weapon.
Cardona did not accept the invitation. Instead, he made another comment.
“You’ve got Bowser Riggins along with you,” remarked the sleuth. “He sticks pretty close most of the time, doesn’t he?”
“Sure he does,” admitted Goldy. “But he doesn’t pack a rod, either. I’ll bring him out. Look him over. He’s a pal, Joe, not a bodyguard. Maybe he does a strong-arm job for me once in a while — but it never amounts to much.”
“Have it your own way, Goldy,” remarked Cardona, with a shrug of his shoulders. “Just the same, I’m staying around awhile.”
The detective strolled along the corridor after Goldy Tancred had gone back into the Blue Room. He walked toward the elevators, and stared suspiciously into the vacant blackness of the ballroom.
CARDONA noticed that men in Tuxedos were coming from an elevator and heading toward the Red Room, at the other end of the corridor. He caught a few snatches of conversation and gained the knowledge that a dinner was being held there by a society of electrical engineers.
Moving back toward the Blue Room, Cardona began to wonder whether or not he had made a mistake in coming to the Olympia Hotel.
Goldy Tancred had hit the nail squarely when he had suggested that Cardona must have been listening to misleading rumors. Persistent rumors from the underworld had it that Goldy Tancred was going on the spot.
There was reason in such rumors. Goldy Tancred was a big shot deluxe. Informants kept him posted regarding the doings of racketeers. He found ways to make it difficult for those whose activities bordered on crime.
To be successful, a racketeer found it wise to keep in the good graces of Goldy Tancred. Time and again, soft graft had been smashed because the perpetrators had ignored the big shot. Hence, there were many who might like to see Goldy Tancred out of the way.
Goldy was too wise to be at odds with the police. He could not be branded as a racketeer, for there was no proof that he engineered schemes of his own. He merely sat back and watched others work. Here, tonight, he was mingling with a group of quasi-politicians, who called themselves the Mohawks.
That was part of Goldy’s game. He dealt in protection, giving it or refusing it as best suited his purposes.
Had someone crossed Goldy Tancred? Were important figures of the underworld anxious to launch a new scheme of crime free from his clever, tribute taking surveillance? If such were the case, there was reason why Goldy’s life might now be threatened.
The detective was not here just to protect Goldy Tancred. He was here to thwart crime that might be in the making.
With a shrug of his shoulders, Cardona entered the Blue Room. He found a chair at a corner table along with a group of lesser politicians. These men, enjoying their first evening with the Mohawks, were quiet in demeanor. They accepted the detective as another of their ilk, and made no effort to open conversation.
The detective sensed that violent death would be attempted within the walls of the Olympia Hotel. On this very night. He waited patiently while the Mohawks chattered and burst forth in boisterous song.
At last, restless and uneasy, Cardona pushed his chair from the table. He sidled along the edge of the room, and paused as he neared the door. Something told him that danger might lie without. He felt that the crucial moment was close at hand.
Then, while the merrymaking was rising to a new height, the unexpected happened. One instant, Joe Cardona was watching Goldy Tancred and Bowser Riggins as the pair were laughing at the capers of a stout, bald-headed politician. The next moment, the entire scene was gone.