Very soon, a man came from the front of the building. He was tall; his long legs made awkward strides toward the corner. The Shadow caught a glimpse of a tight-skinned face beneath a derby hat. Those features answered the slight
description that The Shadow had gained concerning Lewis Bron. Wherever Bron was
going, he was in a hurry, for The Shadow saw him hail a cab. Blinking a flashlight toward the next corner, The Shadow waited until his own cab came along. Boarding it, he took up Bron's trail.
Turning the corner, The Shadow looked back. He saw Pinkey come out of the office building. There wasn't another cab in sight. That left the big-shot stranded. The fact pleased The Shadow; but it was to prove another of the grim jests that fate was supplying tonight.
Unsuspecting that The Shadow was on Bron's trail, Pinkey strode away in the opposite direction, and reached a subway station. Huddled in the corner of a half-filled car, he rode a few stations northward, muttering all the while.
It didn't take him long to arrive at the house adjoining the Bubble Club.
The elevator was on the top floor when Pinkey reached there. He stepped into the car; before he had time to push the button, someone pulled the switch at the bottom of the shaft. When the car reached the ground floor, Pinkey came face to face with Slick Thurley.
For once, amazement showed on the features of the fake Bill Quaine. Slick couldn't figure what had brought the big-shot here, until Pinkey broke the news
that Lewis Bron had made an unexpected exit from his office.
"We should have met earlier," rasped Pinky. "I didn't have a chance to tail the guy. Where he's gone, I can't even guess. But it looks like the deal is off for tonight; and that" - Pinkey's lower lip thrust forward - "may ruin the works tomorrow."
Claude Ondrey, seated behind his desk, put in a sudden theory regarding Bron.
"Maybe Parrington called him!" exclaimed Ondrey. "And if Parrington squawked -"
Ondrey caught himself. He didn't know just how to break the news to Pinkey.
"Squawked about what?" demanded the big-shot. "Say, you mugs" - he swung from Ondrey to Slick - "what's been going on here?"
GRUFFLY, Slick gave the details, stating the facts in brief. When Slick had finished, Pinkey raged.
"And you helped him with that screwy idea!" ranted the big-shot. "Pulled a
small-change shakedown, didn't you, on a guy that was supposed to know nothing?"
"How could I know what was up?" demanded Slick. "I thought maybe Parrington had got wise to Bugs, and wouldn't give him a letter to Bron. I figured that was why he wanted to put the heat on the guy."
Pinkey saw merit in Slick's alibi. He swung toward Ondrey, to blast the portly man.
"You saw what Bugs was pulling, didn't you?" roared Pinkey. "Why didn't you do something about it?"
"Bugs made me jittery," replied Ondrey. "Before I'd catch up with him on one thing, he was off on another, until finally -"
"Until finally he stuck Parrington on the elevator! That was swell, wasn't
it? If Parrington wasn't wise by that time, he got his chance to really think it
over. The guy knows all three of you were working together, so he tipped off Bron."
Silence followed. If Slick or Ondrey had any ideas, they didn't express them. They were letting Pinkey do their thinking for them; and it was the smartest system that they had yet used. Pinkey formed some rapid conclusions.
"Parrington must have called Bron right away," he decided, "from a phone down at the next corner. The question is, what did he tell Bron? There's only one answer."
"He told Bron that his friend Hopton was a phony, and he advised Bron to get out of the office before Bugs showed up there. He may have told him a lot more, but I don't think so. If Parrington is going to make a big squawk, it won't be to Bron."
"Maybe Parrington will figure that the bulls ought to know about one of their own bunch." Pinkey swung toward Slick. "For instance, about a smart dick named Bill Quaine. That would put a bad crimp in your style, Slick."
This time, Pinkey was met with a steady stare, the sort that Slick used when he meant business.
"Parrington fell for the bluff tonight," reminded Slick. "He'll fall for it again, if I drop in on him."
The suggestion awoke a response from Ondrey.
"Of course he will!" exclaimed the night club owner. "After all, Parrington didn't see you take the money. I've got it in the safe, Slick. You can take it with you -"
Pinkey interrupted Ondrey by shoving the portly man back in his chair.
"That dough stays where it is!" hoarsed the big-shot. "If things go sour, we'll make Bugs eat it. You're going after Parrington, but I'm the guy that's going with you. Between us" - Pinkey produced a revolver - "well fix Parrington
so he'll never blab to nobody!"
THE next question was where Parrington lived. That was something that Bugs
could have answered, for he was the only one who had traveled around with Parrington.
Bugs wasn't needed, however, for the telephone directory provided the information. There was only one Roy Parrington in the book; he lived at an address in the Sixties, which Pinkey decided must be a small apartment house.
Slick remarked that he didn't have a gun, for he had planted his revolver on Parrington and Bugs had kept it, afterward. Ondrey dug up a .32 that Slick decided would do. Shoving the gun in his pocket, Slick swung to Pinky with the words:
"Let's go."
Pinkey told him to wait a minute. He wrote out a phone number on a slip of
paper; handed it to Ondrey. "Give a call there," he told Ondrey. "One of the mob
will answer. Tell 'em you're calling for Bugs. They'll believe you, because they're dumber than he is. Have 'em cover up at Parrington's because they may be needed."
Ondrey asked what he was to do in case he heard from Bugs.
"Send him up there, too," ordered Pinkey, "and tell him to take charge of this outfit. Bugs ought to be calling here pretty quick, because, by this time,
he's probably found out that Bron has left his office."
Pinkey glanced at his watch while he and Slick were riding up in the elevator.
PINKEY figured he hadn't lost much time by his trip to the Bubble Club.
It
was directly on the route to Parrington's address.
"I saved time coming by the subway," Pinkey told Slick, "because the show-break had started at Times Square, and being drizzly tonight, there was a lot of traffic there."
Slick didn't reply. Pinkey gave him a poke, asking raspingly what Slick was thinking about. "I'm thinking about Bron," declared Slick. "I've got a hunch that maybe he went up to see Roy Parrington."
"Yeah?" Pinkey was enthusiastic. "Say, that would be nifty, wouldn't it?"
"Maybe. Its going to be hard to put the heat on Bron, though, if we walk right in and croak Parrington." That comment brought a string of oaths from Pinkey; most of his remarks concerned Bugs Hopton, for the way in which the mobleader had queered tonight's setup. By the time they had reached the street,
however, Pinkey's fuming had ended.
"With all that traffic jam," Pinkey decided, "Bron has just about had time
to get to Parrington's. If we hop to Sixth Avenue and get a cab there, we'll be
out of the tie-up. The two of them won't have time to gab much, before we show up.
"What we'll do when we get there, we can decide right then. It would be hoping too much, to croak Parrington and frame Bron, the way we wanted to.