Every occurrence of this early evening had fitted The Shadow's analysis. A superscheme was ready for its payoff. Men of evil purpose had grasped their opportunity. They had planned and labored, prepared to offset counterthrusts; but they had not reckoned with the master who was due.
The Shadow.
CHAPTER XVIII. DECISIONS CHANGE.
WHILE The Shadow still lingered outside the darkened brownstone house, a group of persons had assembled in Congressman Coyd's upstairs living room.
Foster Crozan was seated there, in a comfortable easy−chair. He was talking quietly with Evelyn Coyd, who was seated opposite; while Beatrice Rydel was chatting with Hugh Tabbert.
Doctor Pierre Borneau was also present. Smoking a cigarette, the physician was slowly pacing back and forth across the room. In the corner stood Harry Vincent, his elbow resting on the big box that Burbank had delivered. Harry was watching the radio technician complete the hook−up.
The radio man had ignored the big box. Harry had expected that. Burbank had faked its hook−up; the only real connection that the box possessed was a wire to an isolated floor plug. The technician, in fact, had wondered what the cabinet was doing here and had decided that it was some mechanical device which did not concern him.
His work completed, the technician was using the telephone to call the downtown banquet room. Harry Vincent used this opportunity to note the other persons in the room. Tabbert interested him most; Harry noted that the red−haired secretary was scarcely listening to Beatrice Rydel's chatter. Tabbert was looking at Evelyn Coyd, who, in turn, was deliberately ignoring him.
Harry could see the clenching of Tabbert's fists; he knew that the fellow was thinking of Don Jurrick, whom Tabbert considered as a rival. For it was obvious that the home−town boy was in love with the congressman's daughter.
“Where is Mr. Coyd?”
The question was asked by the radio technician, a weary−faced, businesslike individual. Tabbert suddenly realized that he was being addressed. He turned about and spoke.
“Mr. Coyd is downstairs in his study,” he stated. “He went down there with you, didn't he, Doctor Borneau?”
“When I awakened him,” replied the physician, “he asked if he might go downstairs. He seemed in good spirits, so I permitted him to do so. Mr. Coyd is quite alert this evening.”
“I heard Jurrick's typewriter going,” stated Tabbert, “so I suppose that Mr. Coyd is dictating some additional notes. Shall I go down and tell him that we are ready?”
“You'd better,” informed the radio man, moving to a square box where a switch was located. “The announcement is due inside of ten minutes.”
TABBERT started for the door. He stopped as he heard footsteps. Two persons were coming up the stairs; Tabbert recognized Coyd's voice and came back into the room. Half a minute later, Coyd entered the room with Jurrick at his elbow. The sleek secretary was speaking in a low, half−pleading tone.
“Enough, Jurrick,” said Coyd, sharply. “You are in my employ to take orders; not to criticize my decisions.
Go take a chair and say no more.”
A scowl showed on the congressman's dry features. Then Harry saw a blink of eyelids, a sudden twitch of lips as the shock−haired man spied Beatrice Rydel. For a moment, fingers clutched nervously at open air; then Evelyn Coyd sprang up from her chair.
“Daddy!” she exclaimed. “You don't mind our surprising you? I thought you would like to have Beatrice and myself here to−night.”
The girl had placed her hands on Coyd's shoulders. Mechanically, he kissed her on the forehead; then spoke, nervously, as Evelyn stepped away.
“No, no, daughter,” came Coyd's response. “I do not mind. It was rather startling, though, to know that you had arrived so unexpectedly.”
Though he spoke to Evelyn, his eyes were still toward Beatrice. The blond girl looked half puzzled; Harry saw her start to speak, then hesitate. Evelyn, too, was wondering; and Harry was not surprised. The Shadow's agent had noted many of Coyd's moods; the present one was different than any that he had previously observed.
Fingers moved through the shock of black hair. The action changed the man's mood. Coyd's face became firm; his voice sounded brusque. Doctor Borneau motioned to the girls; they sat down at the physician's order.
“Only a few minutes, Mr. Coyd.”
“Good.” Coyd's tone was firm. With this response to the radio technician, the speaker of the evening swung about and faced the group. “Good. But I still have time to say something that will interest all of you.”
A tense pause; then came the congressman's tone tinged with a sneer:
“I have altered the contents of my speech. I have done so because I am weary of interference in my affairs. In order to declare my independence, I shall deliver statements that will end all meddling on the part of others.
From such persons, for instance, as Senator Ross Releston.”
Coyd's tone was sarcastic and biting. Harry saw a gleam in the congressman's eyes as they were focused first upon him; then on Foster Crozan. Harry watched Crozan rise from his chair, only to he waved down.
“To−night, I shall speak of utilities.” Coyd's voice was intoning the words. “But I shall not condemn them.
Nor will I state what Senator Releston has said—that rates will be fixed once and for all.
“Instead, I shall declare that these specific utilities will not be regulated at all.” A gesturing hand flourished a sheaf of papers that Jurrick had typed. “I shall assert that their affairs do not come under congressional jurisdiction; that the committees will have no report concerning them.”
CROZAN was on his feet. Violently, his fist was shaking in Coyd's face. Harry had never seen the senatorial candidate so indignant.
“Outrageous!” stormed Crozan. “Do you mean, Mr. Coyd, that you intend to state a deliberate untruth? To create a totally erroneous belief on the part of the public—”
“My original remarks were not entirely correct.”
“They recognized definite possibilities. There was a chance that the committees would go further than already decided. This new statement, however, is a bald lie. If Senator Releston were here—”
“He is not here, however,” came the sneering interruption. “As for you, Crozan, you are nothing but a private citizen. Your interference in my affairs is unwarranted.”
“I am acting for the public good. Do you realize, Coyd, what you will do? No denial—by Releston or any one—will be capable of stopping disaster. The truth can never overtake a lie. The munitions scandal will be nothing compared with this. To−morrow, stocks will soar sky high. Speculators will unload—”
“Let them. Their business is their own.”
“But afterward, Coyd! The dupes who will buy those securities at your instigation! Think of them! When Congress resumes session, when the committee reports are given, the fixing of utility rates will cause a drop to normal or below. Honest persons will be bereft of long−saved earnings—”
“That is their look−out, Crozan. My interests are my own. Independence is a virtue that I value, Crozan.”
“Independence!” Crozan's tone was irony. “You are showing no independence, Coyd! At last you are flaunting your true colors—the skull and crossbones of piracy. I believed in you, Coyd. I thought—like Releston—that your statement regarding munitions had been an unaccountable error.
“Both Releston and I were deceived on that occasion. Deceived by your glibness and your whining. It is plain, now, that you were working for the very graspers whom you pretended to denounce. A hidden syndicate, operated by one man whose lust for wealth knows no bounds.