Perhaps — the thought made Jerry smile wisely — there were others here in New York. Mullrick, Herston was convinced, had a few connections of his own in the underworld.
Had Jerry Herston seen Harland Mullrick alone in the apartment, he would have lost some of his surety. The man who had come from Mexico was pacing up and down the living room, engaged in serious thought. Harland Mullrick was making plans; those purposes had much to do with his future dealings with Jerry Herston.
There were eyes, however, that did see Mullrick. A figure had lingered in the hallway, unnoticed by Jerry Herston, who had been busy with his money counting. That figure had returned to Mullrick’s entry. The eyes of The Shadow were watching every motion of the man who had come from Mexico, studying every expression that flickered upon Harland Mullrick’s shrewd face.
Pascual entered the living room. Mullrick spoke to the servant, in a medley of Spanish and English.
“Pascual, amigo. The letter — you are sure that you have mailed it?”
“Si, senor.”
“Buenos. That is good. The lights — turn them off.”
Harland Mullrick strode into an adjoining room. Pascual, in his stolid fashion, extinguished the lights in the living room. While his back was turned, the figure of The Shadow stood plainly in the entry. It turned and glided softly through the outer door. The portal closed.
Pascual, turning to the entry where the last light remained, caught a motion of the doorknob. The servant hurried in that direction. He opened the door and peered into the corridor. He saw no one. He closed the door and turned out the entry light.
Outside of the apartment house, a figure appeared momentarily beneath a glare of light, then faded into a shroud of darkness. A soft laugh rippled from invisible lips. The Shadow had every word of conversation between Harland Mullrick and Jerry Herston.
Keenly, The Shadow had summed the situation not alone as it referred to the past, but as it regarded the future. He had also gained a definite inkling which Jerry Herston had failed to glean. That was the reference to the letter which Pascual had mailed. The Shadow knew the meaning of that letter.
Harland Mullrick had taken the first step in his plan to treat with those who could provide him with the information that he needed. Four men, each of whom could aid or balk the shrewd concession-gainer’s effort for wealth, were known to Harland Mullrick, thanks to Luis Santo, who had died last night.
Santo was dead because he knew too much. These men with whom Mullrick intended to treat as individuals also knew facts that concerned Harland Mullrick. What would be the result when the first of the four responded to Mullrick’s request for information?
The Shadow knew the answer. His grim laugh proved it. Death lay in the offing. Murder, as certain as that which had fallen upon Luis Santo, was looming in the immediate future.
When death threatened, The Shadow was needed. He was the master whose purpose was to prevent death, except when it struck those who deserved it. Yet in this strange chain of past and impending crime, The Shadow saw the skill that showed the crafty plotter.
The task which confronted The Shadow was one which would tax his powers to the utmost.
Murder was on the way, and chance would play a part which might render efforts futile, even though such efforts were produced by The Shadow himself!
CHAPTER VI
MULLRICK MOVES
IT was late the next afternoon when Harland Mullrick entered his apartment after a trip downtown. Mullrick immediately encountered Pascual. The Mexican servant was standing just beyond the entry, staring toward the door as Mullrick entered.
“What’s the matter, Pascual?” questioned Mullrick, in Spanish.
“Things are not right, master,” returned Pascual, in his native tongue. “I am worried since last night.”
“Forget it, Pascual,” ordered Mullrick. “So long as you are alert, all will be well.”
The Mexican shook his head. He pointed toward the door; his accusing finger indicated the knob.
“There was someone there last night, master,” he informed. “Someone — beyond that door”
“Of course,” laughed Mullrick. “Senor Herston went out. He was in the corridor. He may have decided to return; then changed his mind. You told me all this before I went out this morning.”
“The window also, senor,” insisted the servant, pointing to the other end of the room. “I heard a noise there, afterward—”
“But you saw no one,” interposed Mullrick. “You mentioned those facts also. Come, Pascual. Until you have seen some actual person hereabouts, do not worry about mere noises.”
With this remark, Mullrick strode to the window. He unlocked it and raised the sash. As Pascual peered forth suspiciously, Mullrick indicated the wall.
Save for a narrow, projecting cornice just below the window, and a similar projection above, there was no possible place for a foothold. The width of each ornamental projection was scarcely more than three inches.
Mullrick closed the window. He seemed satisfied. Pascual began to imbibe his master’s confidence.
The window had a thick sill. Just within was a radiator, with a flat metal top that came on a level with the sill, forming a useful ledge. Mullrick rested one elbow atop the radiator, and stared thoughtfully from the window. He heard a rap at the door. He turned to see Pascual answering the call.
MULLRICK smiled as he observed the visitors who entered. Two men were carrying a radio cabinet. One came backing across the floor; the other, a stolid laborer, was facing forward.
As they reached a corner near the window, they set down their burden. The smaller man dropped to the floor and began to attach the radio.
“This is prompt service,” commented Mullrick. “You told me you would have the set delivered by half past five. Where is the young man who called this morning and offered to place this radio on approval?”
The big, stupid man shook his head. He pointed to the other who had entered with him.
“Ask him,” said the big man. “I ain’t got nothin’ to do with it. He just asked me to help him lug the radio upstairs. I was out on the street, lookin’ for somethin’ to do.”
Mullrick turned to the man who was attaching the set. The visitor’s back was turned, but the man had heard the question. He replied, in a quiet voice, without turning his head from his work.
“It was the salesman who called this morning,” he said. “I am the installation man. Sign this approval receipt.”
Without turning away from his work, the installer whisked a card from his pocket and held it up over his shoulder. Mullrick signed the card and placed it in the ready hand that came up for it. He walked away from the window.
The radio installer, with his back constantly toward the interior of the room, placed some tools upon the flat-topped radiator. He began to test the set.
As he listened to its tones, he moved his head slightly to note whether or not Mullrick was still watching him. Observing that Mullrick was not, the man placed a little tool kit upon the radiator top. From the kit projected a wire.
The radio man let his hand slide along the space between window sill and radiator. His fingers encountered a projecting wire.
The presence of that wire explained why Pascual had heard a sound last night. Someone, working from outside, had drilled a tiny hole straight through the window ledge, underneath. Through that hole the wire had been introduced!
With a deft movement, the radio installer hooked his own wire to the one that came from beneath the sill. He opened the tool kit and took out a small instrument which was attached to the wire. He let this object slip down in back of the radiator, paying out the thin wire to prevent a final jolt.