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In fact, when he had set his green piece on its appointed square, The Crime Master began a series of short moves, all starting from that point. These showed how Harger and his outfit could move forth to meet any attack; how they would serve to drive away approaching forces of the law.

The board was set; yet still, The Crime Master sat in contemplation. His thin, snarly lips were moving. His scrawny hand fumbled in the box. It brought out a white piece that differed from the others. It was the same size, but it bore the letter C.

THE CRIME MASTER repeated his police moves, using this one white piece at every strategic point. He gave it two squares — a jump on every move.

There was reason. This one piece represented Detective Joe Cardona. The Crime Master had recognized the star sleuth as superior to others in the service of the law.

Yet even with the exaggerated advantage that he gave to Joe Cardona, The Crime Master was satisfied. His own men, red, blue and green, formed a cordon about the Titan Trust. Wherever he allowed attack by the whites, The Crime Master could muster a prompt defense on the part of his own pieces.

Playing his strange game, the old man showed the complete progress of the colored pieces. He moved the whites, made jumps, retreats and captures. At the end, he had removed men of both sides; but meanwhile, his reds had escaped.

Satisfied, he replaced the pieces in their original positions. He settled back in his chair. The Crime Master’s game was no longer play. Actual events would tell the story; afterward, the old man could move the pieces to correspond with facts.

The buzzer. The Crime Master pressed the button. Henley entered from the clicking door. A smile showed on the lieutenant’s solemn face.

“All is ready, Master,” announced Henley. “Louie Harger is on his way.”

The Crime Master chuckled. His eyes shone through slitted lids as they turned toward the clock upon the table. Twenty-five minutes after eleven. The zero hour for crime would arrive within three hundred seconds.

Again, a fiendish chuckle came from snarling lips. The Crime Master was confident that his minions would prevail in their fight against the law!

CHAPTER VI

THE ZERO HOUR

TWENTY-FIVE minutes past eleven. Men were already huddled together within the confines of the parking space opposite the side of the darkened Titan Trust building.

These watchers, however, were not the ones indicated on the checkered board. Whites, instead of green, had arrived at the appointed spot. Detective Joe Cardona, with a squad of efficient workers beside him, had moved into the position originally designed for Trigger Maddock.

Louie Harger and his crew were on their way. Cardona did not know that they would figure in the coming crime. At the same time, Harger and his outfit were approaching in total ignorance of the fact that a stealthy faction of the law had moved in before them.

“Easy, men.” Cardona’s growled whisper came from beside a parked sedan. “Remember — we’re filling in where a cover-up crew was due. We don’t know who may be watching us. Hold everything until I give the word.”

“Ps-st!” The warning whisper came from a detective at Cardona’s side. In the gloom, Joe could see the man pointing toward the whitened wall of the bank building.

“See somebody, Murph?” questioned Cardona.

“Looked like it,” whispered the other detective. “Kind of a streak of black. Moved along in front of the white wall.”

“Where is it now?”

“Can’t see it. Out of sight — up there in the shadows.”

Cardona stared. He could see a glistening portion of the white wall; past that, darkness. But there was no sign of either life or motion.

“Guess I was seeing things,” admitted Murph. “Anyway, it couldn’t have been more than just one guy.”

“All right,” growled Cardona. “Keep watching — that’s all.”

Murph continued to stare. His eyes discerned nothing. Yet the detective had been right in his observation. He had seen the flitting form of a living being.

In the darkness close beside the Titan Trust building, The Shadow was crouched, on watch. He had expected Joe Cardona’s maneuver. He had detected the presence of the star detective’s squad. Trouble was due — within a scant few minutes. The Shadow, like the law, was prepared.

HALF past eleven. The zero hour had arrived. The detectives were waiting, tensely. Then came the sign of crime — a sudden boom that marked The Crime Master’s attack.

From deep within the walls of the Titan Trust Company came a muffled explosion. Some crew of sappers had let loose a charge. Entering from underground, they had blown their way into the bank building.

“Hold it!” ordered Joe Cardona. “Be ready. They’ll be coming out this way! We’re here to block them!”

One minute — two — alarms were ringing merrily within the whitened walls. Then came a clang. The side door of the bank swung outward. A pair of mobsmen, revolvers in hand, came into view.

“Let’s go!”

Cardona was on his feet. His revolver blazed the opening shot. A zipping bullet smashed from his weapon and plastered itself against the wall beside the mobsmen. Other detectives opened fire. With a round dozen at his heels, Joe Cardona sprang from the hiding place.

Shots came in return. One mobster fell. Others were firing from within the bank. The odds were with the police. Pounding across the sidewalk, Cardona and his detectives were bound for what seemed positive victory.

Then came sudden shots from the right. Bullets whined past the advancing detectives. Two men wheeled. They cried to their chief as they saw the approaching menace. Louie Harger and his underlings had arrived. They had opened a flank attack!

In a trice, detectives broke. Dropping for cover, retreating toward the parking space, they were trying to avoid this murderous fire that was coming in enfilade. With mobsters ahead, with mobsters at their right, Cardona and his men were trapped.

The darkness at the wall of the bank was formed by a flat, projecting pillar. Beside that spot, to the left of the door where mobsters were massed, the depression of the wall formed a natural shelter. It was from this unexpected nest that a sharp counter attack came to aid the foiled detectives.

Louie Harger and his men were shouting in triumph as they came dashing up the street. They were counting on a hand to hand fight with the retreating detectives. A hidden power, however, was to stay them.

Barks came from the niche beside the pillar. Tongues of flame spat in quick succession from a mammoth automatic. A mobster staggered and sprawled. Another toppled beside him. The Shadow, sniping with machinelike speed, was withering the ranks of Louie Harger’s horde!

Louie’s crew broke for cover. Their leader dived for safety with them. Two mobsmen, caught flat-footed, sent chipping shots that cracked the marble pillar. Deflected, these bullets failed to reach The Shadow.

The response, however, did not cease. A second automatic had replaced the first. Two quick shots accounted for the firing gangsters. One gunman slumped in the middle of the street; the other, hand pressed to shoulder, staggered away and stumbled flat as he reached the curb.

“Let’s go!”

Again, Cardona’s leadership prevailed. The flanking fire ended, the detectives sprang forward en masse. Blistering shots came from their revolvers. The defending gangsters ducked inward from the door.

DISTANT sirens were whining. Shots came from other streets. The Shadow, watching from his post, knew what was happening. This battle at the side door was but a portion of the entire scheme. Agents of crime, scattered throughout the vicinity, were blocking the approach of the police from all directions.