“Quite right, Jodelle,” agreed the portly banker. “Nevertheless, I cannot see my way clear to treat Wilking as an ordinary criminal. My niece is right: he is not a rogue by profession. I hold to the opinion that he is a wayward young man who has withdrawn from the path of righteousness.”
“Which makes him a crook.”
“Technically, yes. But for Claire’s sake, I want him to explain himself. I believe that I can urge him to confess his part in crime. Then I can present his statements to Commissioner Barth under the head of a voluntary confession.
“By disclosing the name of Dunwood Marrick, Wilking will be performing a service to the law. He will be regarded as a weakling who yielded to cajolery. His part in bringing the real criminals to justice will save him from a harsh sentence.”
“You’re giving him a break, Mr. Hildreth,” Jodelle spoke.
“I feel that I must be lenient. Claire, I do not want to disturb your plans to-night. To-morrow evening is the time when I shall talk with Wilking.”
“Very well, Uncle.”
“You are going out to dinner, are you not?”
“Yes. To the Smithworth’s. I am coming back by nine o’clock.”
“I am also going out. Tell Wilking that you would like to have him come here at nine. I shall leave word with Lowdy to usher him in here when he calls; that is, if he arrives before my return. Wilking will think nothing of the fact that I may wish to speak with him. He will think it is in reference to his loan.”
“But if I am here—”
“Do not return until half past nine. I shall be back before you. Whether Wilking arrives before or after me, Lowdy will tell him that I wish to speak to him.”
“Very well, Uncle.”
“This evidence” — Hildreth picked up the packet of papers — “will make Wilking understand that he must be frank with me. It is testimony that cannot be disputed. Here, Jodelle — place it in the vault.”
Jodelle arose and went to the steel door. He stopped as he found that the vault was locked. He turned to Hildreth.
“The combination, sir?”
“Here.” Hildreth drew a card from his vest pocket. “Open the vault, Jodelle. Place the papers in the little drawer marked W. It is in a pigeonhole on the right.”
WHILE Jodelle was following instructions, Hildreth stepped forward to talk to his niece. He was kindly in tone as he urged the girl not to worry. Tears showed in Claire’s eyes.
“The real rogues are Marrick and Blitz,” assured Hildreth. “I promise you, I shall do everything I can in Wilking’s behalf. Yet I must admit that I am positive of his guilt.”
“But you have only those papers as proof against him—”
“They are sufficient. So long as they remain in my possession, Wilking’s complicity can be established.”
Jodelle was returning with the card. Hildreth pointed to the desk.
“You may have to open the vault later,” the banker remarked. “If so, you will need the combination, Jodelle. Place it in the top drawer of the desk. Hide it underneath the cigars that you will find there in a box.”
“The top drawer on which side, sir?”
“The one on the right. Slide the card down under the cigars. No one would ever find it there.”
Claire Hildreth stood watching Jodelle place the card as her uncle had ordered him. She was nodding slowly as Tobias Hildreth uttered new words of reassurance. Then came a rap at the door. It was Lowdy, to announce that Mr. Wilking had arrived.
“You may go, Claire,” said Hildreth. “Be calm, my girl. Say nothing to Wilking that will betray your present emotion. Rest assured that I shall receive him kindly to-morrow night. Mr. Jodelle and I are going over other evidence that he has accumulated. Perhaps we may find facts to implicate some one instead of Wilking.”
The banker went back to his desk. Jodelle began to sort out other papers. Claire steadied, dried her eyes with a handkerchief; then powdered her nose and colored her lips. She smiled bravely when she said good-night to her uncle.
Wally Wilking was waiting in the front hall. He helped Claire put on her wrap; then escorted the girl from the house. He looked along the street for a cab.
“Thought I saw a taxi near the corner,” he remarked. “Here when I arrived. That’s why I dismissed the one I came in. Yes — I was right. There’s the cab. The driver has seen us.”
A taxi pulled up. A hand thrust outward from the darkness of the front seat and opened the door. Wally ushered Claire into the cab. He ordered the hunched, muffled driver to take them to the Club Samoset.
“What’s the trouble, Claire?” questioned Wally, as the cab started. “What delayed you after I arrived?”
“I–I was talking to Uncle.”
“I thought so. About me?”
“Well — yes and no.”
“You didn’t mention that you had seen me in his study?”
“Yes, Wally, I did. But I explained it, though. Wally — something— something very serious has happened. You — you must come to see Uncle to-morrow night — at nine o’clock.”
“About what?”
“About the bank.”
“Come now, Claire. You can’t keep secrets from me, you know. Just what did your uncle have to say?”
“I–I shouldn’t tell you, Wally—”
“But you’re going to tell.”
UNDER Wally’s prompting, the girl began to blurt her story. Wally listened intently. He put questions at intervals; at other times, he cautioned his fiancee to talk lower, so that the driver would not hear. When the cab pulled up at the Club Samoset, Wally Wilking had learned all that Claire Hildreth had been told by her uncle.
As soon as the passengers had left, the cab driver drove swiftly away. He passed people who waved for his cab. Apparently, he was not interested in gaining further fares to-night. He parked the cab at an isolated spot near Tenth Avenue. There, he removed his cap and turned down the collar of his coat.
Long-fingered hands removed a pair of earphones. They ran along a wire and detached a microphone from the interior of the cab. The driver stepped from his vehicle and pocketed the equipment that he had removed.
This strange cab driver had heard every word that Claire Hildreth had uttered while riding in his taxi.
Abandoning the cab, the driver seemed to grow from a hunched form to a tall figure as he stalked along the street. He reached a parked coupe and entered it.
A hollow, whispered laugh was sibilant in the darkness as the coupe drove away. The mirth seemed the echo of triumphant mockery. It was a chilling laugh — a reminder of a taunt that had sounded doom to men of crime. It was the laugh of The Shadow.
The Shadow had sensed that facts would pass between Claire Hildreth and Wally Wilking. Disguised as the driver of a borrowed cab, he had waited outside Tobias Hildreth’s home, seeking an opportunity to hear Wally talk to Claire.
Joe Cardona’s emphatic statements regarding Dobey Blitz had caused Tobias Hildreth and Gorton Jodelle to ponder heavily. In their discussion of Wally Wilking, the banker and the private investigator had delved deeply into the possibilities of making a direct link between Wally and Dobey — through Dunwood Marrick.
Though Tobias Hildreth had cautioned his niece, Claire had talked to Wally Wilking. The names of Dunwood Marrick and Dobey Blitz had been mentioned by the girl. Moreover, Claire had told, to the last detail, all that had been said by her uncle, in his study.
There was reason for The Shadow’s laugh. The master who trailed crime had been waiting for the chance to drive a wedge. He was ready to deliver a vital stroke when the psychological moment might arrive.