As she heard Pinkey's voice, she wished with all her might that she knew where the hide-out was, for she was in a mood to finish Pinky's entire game.
The big-shot didn't state that information. He merely wanted to know if Maude had arranged matters for tomorrow. Listlessly, Maude told him that everything was set.
IN the hideout, Pinkey gave a gruff chuckle when he hung up the telephone.
Slick and Bugs were present to hear the big-shot's glee.
"Its going to be a cinch!" announced Pinkey. "We'll snatch this Jondran doll, and hold her while we make her old man listen to the million dollar proposition. After that, we'll let her go."
"That means Maude won't make a holler. She'll be glad because I'm through with her. Only I won't be" - Pinkey's eyes went glinty; his under lip gave a shove - "because were going to rub out that blonde, after we've finished everything else.
"No dame can pull ritzy stuff on me and get away with it! I talked nice to
her tonight and, for a while, I really meant it. Only I changed my mind, afterward."
None of the crooks were watching the door, as it closed a fraction of an inch. A figure glided down the stairs and out through the alleyway, where some of the mobbies were keeping guard. The watchers were on the lookout for anyone who started trouble; but they hadn't expected a shrouded prowler who could creep in and out like night itself.
Later, a voice spoke within the darkness of a soundproof limousine. Its tone was The Shadow's whisper, forwarding instructions by short-wave radio; orders that would reach his agents and have them ready on the morrow.
Burbank acknowledged those instructions; and, in his listening post, the last tone that the contact man received was one that promised full success.
That tone was The Shadow's laugh.
CHAPTER XVII
CRIME'S ZERO HOUR
MAUDE REVELLE was at her best, the next afternoon. She had expected that the guests at the cocktail party might regard her as an outsider; instead, they
received her like an old friend.
That was partly because she came with Lamont Cranston; but Maude's own conduct was an added factor. Most of Maude's society notions had been gained from watching movies; but she had profited a lot from the process. Moreover, she had an aptitude for imitating other persons, without having them realize it.
That was one reason why Pinkey had liked her. She had seemed "classy," as he put it; but she talked his own language. He had never realized that her conversation was unnatural. Nor did the guests at the Rothmorton party suspect that Maude was not of their own ilk.
There were times when Maude used slangy terms; and once in a while, she didn't grasp what others talked about. But they accepted her slang expressions as quips; and Maude was wise enough to preserve silence, when she found herself
beyond her depth.
There was one girl at the party that Maude liked the moment she saw her.
The girl was a slender brunette whose smile was is friendly as her eyes. She admired the tasteful way in which Maude was dressed; and that pleased Maude more than ever.
The two were not introduced at first, because most of the persons at the party were already acquainted. When Maude finally met the brunette, she was pleased until she heard the latter's name.
The girl that Maude liked so well was Beth Jondran.
As the party progressed, Maude learned that Beth's father was a very important man in the oil business. She also found out that Beth was driving into the city alone, in her roadster. The car happened to be parked just outside the window; it was the only roadster in the driveway.
Maude had no trouble learning the license number. Gloomily, she scribbled it on a bit of paper, tucked it into her cigarette case. With it, she marked the time at which Beth intended to leave; namely, a quarter past six. Beth wanted to meet some friends at seven; but they wouldn't wait for her if she was
late.
That fact also bothered Maude; for it fixed everything nicely, in accordance with Pinkey's plans. Maude was hoping desperately that something might happen to prevent Beth's capture.
For her own part, she saw no other way to manage it; whether right or wrong, she had to go through with Pinkey's orders.
IT was nearly six o'clock, when Beth suddenly approached Maude and handed her an envelope. The deed was timely, for Maude had reached the point where she
knew she would have to call Ondrey and give him news for Pinkey.
"I've been carrying this for the last ten minutes," laughed Beth. "Mr.
Cranston gave it to me, for you. He found that he had to leave unexpectedly.
I'm terribly forgetful at times. So much so, that I can never remember where I place the car keys. That's why I always leave them in the car, whenever I know that it is safe."
Maude was opening the envelope. Dusk had gathered; it was gloomy in the corner where the two girls were. Beth turned on a floor lamp. She was starting away, when Maude halted her.
With the envelope only partly opened, Maude forgot about it to express something to Beth. "You know, Miss Jondran," she said, "there's one thing I wouldn't ever do, that's double-cross anyone."
Beth smiled sympathetically. She didn't quite understand; but she saw that
Maude was badly troubled.
"I mean, anyone like Mr. Cranston," continued Maude. "Or anyone as swell as you are, Miss Jondran. But sometimes - well, there are things you can't tell
a person."
Beth looked at the note, then asked: "You mean something you cannot tell Mr. Cranston?"
"That's it," returned Maude. "That is, in a way. What I mean is, if a fellow doesn't know something he ought to know, but if you've promised someone else that you won't tell him -" Her voice broke; Maude was choking when she added:
"What I mean is, a real guy like Mr. Cranston ought to be treated right.
And so should you, Miss Jondran."
"I don't quite understand," soothed Beth. "But Maude - I know you won't mind my calling you Maude - I feel that real persons can trust each other.
That
often solves life's problems. But I feel, too, that each person must be allowed
to do what he or she thinks is best."
"You do?" blurted Maude. "Would you trust me to do that, Beth? After only meeting me once?"
"Certainly! One meeting is enough."
"Gee, you're swell!"
"Why not open the envelope?" asked Beth. "It seems to have brought up your
problem. Perhaps it will solve it."
Maude didn't think it would, but she did not say so. She decided to do as Beth suggested. Maude needed a few minutes to get the choke out of her voice.
Beth left her; a few moments later, Maude was reading Cranston's message.
Maude's eyes were a bit tear-dimmed. She couldn't believe the words that blurred in front of her. When she had wiped her eyes; she read them again.
They
were amazing; but real. They were so utterly incredible that Maude stood motionless.
SLOWLY, Maude came to life, a grim smile showing on her face. She crumpled
the message, not observing that its words were fading from view. Hurrying out to
a little hallway, she reached the telephone.
She called the Bubble Club. Ondrey answered, his voice impatient, worried.
He'd had three calls from Pinkey; the big-shot was still awaiting news from Maude.
"Tell him to keep his shirt on!" snapped Maude. "Here's the dope he wants.
The dame is leaving here in about ten minutes. She's driving a roadster, and she's going to be alone. Here - take down the license number."
Ondrey recorded he number as Maude gave it.
"When she gets into town," added Maude, "she'll leave the car in a parking