“In Bermuda. Our data showed that he had made several trips there.”
“Your visit tonight,” observed Mann thoughtfully. “Do you think that it will bring up any complications?”
“Not a chance,” laughed Harry. “It will be a get-acquainted affair. My only hope is that Chalvers will mention Furness. They were roommates at college, and close friends after that.”
“All right,” decided Mann. “I’ll call you later at the Metrolite.”
WHEN Harry Vincent had left, Rutledge Mann made inked notations, and sealed them in an envelope.
He turned to his clippings.
Today’s news stories told of the police rescue at the New City Bank. Led by the intrepid Joe Cardona, a squad of policemen and detectives had arrived in time to prevent the cracking of the vault.
They had driven back several of the mobsters who were confused in the darkness. The restoration of light had caught these lawless men just within the side door of the bank. Cardona, leading the advance, had opened fire.
By force of superior numbers, the officers had quickly won the engagement. Among dead and wounded mobsters who had staggered in all directions, the police had discovered one slain man whom they were sure had headed the expedition.
This was Ping Slatterly.
The fact that the electrical equipment of the New City Bank had been put out of order was an important item in the story. The newspapers also stressed the fact that some marauders had managed to extinguish the street lights at an important intersection, thus enabling the mobsters to escape.
In the rapidity of events at that point, the drivers of pursuing cars had scarcely realized the importance of the other unusual phenomena which had occurred. They spoke of stalled cars; of extinguished headlights; of blanketing gloom. But there was much that they made no effort to explain.
It was known now, however, that some peculiar form of electrical disturbing power had been utilized, but the newspapers, ringing with the reports of how the major criminals had been caught, gave little attention to the details of the unsuccessful pursuit.
Joe Cardona was the hero. Inasmuch as he had been at the bank itself, the ace detective was naturally concerned with the success of the police raid. He stated emphatically that the death of Ping Slatterly must mark the end of these odd crimes which had involved the extinguishing of lights in buildings.
Another item went into Mann’s envelope. This pertained to a tie-up on the elevated, which had occurred on the preceding evening. Newspapers had not connected this with the foiled bank robbery. But, along with his clippings, Mann enclosed a statement from Clyde Burke.
The quick-witted reporter had gained a theory which he had not mentioned at the Classic office.
Traveling with Detective Sergeant Markham, almost at the spot where the bank had been attacked, Clyde was sure that the ended service on the elevated line possessed a definite significance.
Rutledge Mann sealed the envelope and left his office. He told the stenographer that he would return after lunch. On the street, the investment broker took a taxicab to Twenty-third Street.
Entering the old, dilapidated building, Mann ascended to the blind office which bore the name of the mythical Jonas. He returned to the street and continued on to his club for luncheon.
It was later in the afternoon when Rutledge Mann, back in his office, received a letter which had been thrust through the mail chute. He opened the missive after the stenographer had brought it to him. Inked coded words disappeared following the insurance broker’s perusal.
Rutledge Mann smiled wanly as he picked up the telephone and called the Metrolite Hotel.
Instructions had arrived from The Shadow. Harry Vincent was to visit Don Chalvers tonight.
CHAPTER XIX. GOLDY EMPLOYS STRATEGY
“CALL for you, Burke.”
Clyde Burke arose from his typewriter in the Classic office. At the telephone he recognized the steady voice of Detective Joe Cardona.
“Want a story Burke?”
“Sure thing, Joe.”
“Meet me at Goldy Tancred’s, in fifteen minutes.”
“Goldy Tancred’s! What’s up Joe?”
“You’ll find out when you get there. I’m giving you a break because I want to know more about what happened to you last night. Markham is coming.”
Leaving the Classic office, Burke stopped at a telephone booth on the ground floor. He called Burbank to inform him of this new development. He arranged to call again as soon as he had learned anything more.
In the lobby of the Marathon, Clyde found Cardona and Markham waiting for him. The trio took the elevator.
The three found Goldy Tancred, garbed in dressing gown, pacing the floor of his living room. Goldy was quizzical when he saw Clyde Burke.
“I want to talk to you, Cardona,” he began. “What I’ve got to say is private. I don’t want it to leak out too soon.”
“Burke’s all right,” growled the detective. “He’s not reporting tonight. There’s another reason for him being along.”
Goldy Tancred hesitated, then he shrugged his shoulders.
“Joe,” announced the big shot, “I’m worried. You’ve put me in a real mess. It’s up to you to give me a chance to get out of it.”
“How’s that?” questioned Cardona.
“Well,” said Goldy, “I know who was after me. I’ll be frank with you — I half suspected it all along; but I wasn’t sure. Now I know.”
“Spill it,” ordered the detective. “Who’s the guy?”
“Ping Slatterly,” declared Goldy.
Cardona was astounded for a moment; then he began to nod. Busy with details after last night’s episode, the ace detective had forgotten all about Goldy Tancred. Now he saw the obvious connection.
“I guess you’ve hit it, Goldy,” agreed the detective. “But I don’t see why you’re worried. Ping’s out of the way now—”
“Sure he is,” interposed Goldy. “But he’s got friends, hasn’t he? That’s why I wanted to talk with you. How did you get wise in time to spoil Ping’s game? Who gave you the tip-off?”
“That’s my business,” declared Cardona.
“That’s just it,” responded Goldy. “That’s just why there’s trouble for me. There’s plenty of tough bimboes wondering where that tip-off came from. There’s plenty who figure that Ping Slatterly was after me. Putting two and two together, they’ll think that I was the guy who told you to watch Ping Slatterly.”
Cardona was silent. He saw the logic of Goldy’s statement. If Ping Slatterly was not the only powerful gang leader concerned in the attack upon the New City Bank, his companions would certainly be out to avenge his death. Cardona began a new chain of conjecture.
“You’ve given me something to think about,” said the detective, after long consideration. “I’ll tell you why I brought Burke up here, Goldy. Last night, he ran into a couple of thugs who would have got him, if Markham hadn’t been there. Burke had been up to see you, hadn’t he?”
“Sure,” retorted Gold. “He was here twice.”
“Well,” resumed Cardona, “I didn’t like the looks of it. I brought him here, so we could hear what you have to say about it.”
“About him coming up to see me?”
“No. About this attempt to gang him.”
“You want to hear what I have to say?” cried Goldy. “I’ve said it already — if you could only see the facts like I see them.
“Look here, Cardona. Ping Slatterly was pulling a job last night. He didn’t want me to know about it. Chances are, he’s had guys watching this place like a hawk.
“Burke here” — Goldy pointed to the reporter — “came in to see me. Outside of Bowser Riggins, he’s the only visitor I’ve had. Can’t you see it now, Joe? Those bimboes ganged Burke because they thought he was working for me. They were some of Ping Slatterly’s mob. That’s easy to see.”