A FEW minutes later, two stealthy figures arrived at the door of the apartment. One was a stalwart, chisel-featured man: Cliff Marsland. The other, a shrewd, stoop-shouldered fellow whose keen eyes peered from a wizened face. This was Hawkeye.
Cliff motioned the little man to remain by the door. Crossing the room, he came to the inner door. He heard a whisper. Cliff entered.
“Instructions,” came The Shadow’s low tone. “Remove Cooler’s body to the touring car. Come back for Cady. Place him in the rear seat also, bound and gagged. Drive to the parking lot on M Street, near the Pelham Theater. No watchman is on duty; leave the car there.”
“Instructions received,” acknowledged Cliff.
The Shadow waited while his agents removed Cooler’s body and came back for Cady. When they had taken the surviving crook, The Shadow, himself, hoisted Jollister.
Carrying the vault expert limp across his shoulders, The Shadow extinguished the floor lamp as he passed. He descended by the fire tower. He heard the touring car pull away.
Shifting his relaxed burden, The Shadow laughed softly as he moved frontward through the rain. He was on his way to join Harry Vincent in the coupe. Between them, The Shadow and his agent would put Craig Jollister in a place where he would stay.
CHAPTER XVI. CRIME FORESEEN
WHILE The Shadow was finding action at Jollister’s apartment, quieter events were developing at Wesdren’s. A conference had begun in the luxurious office. Joe Cardona had held the floor while Releston, Wesdren and Knight formed a gallery of listeners.
His information given at length, Cardona awaited comment. A question came from Vic Marquette:
“Suppose we do find Cady? What then?”
“What then?” echoed Joe Cardona. “What’s the idea of that question, Marquette? Once you’ve nabbed Cady, you’ll have a lead on the whole gang you’re after.”
Marquette snorted; then shook his head.
“I’ll admit we’ll have a lead,” he declared. “But it won’t fit in with what we’ve learned already. We’re after slick crooks, Cardona. Big shots; not small fry.”
“But Cady’s working for somebody.”
“Granted. And if we ever get Cady, we’ll find out that he can’t tell us a thing about the big shot.”
“Maybe Cady is more important than you think. What if he was this Jed Barthue you’ve talked about? He could be; that Boston record of his dates back a few years.”
A chuckle came from Jarvis Knight. “My word, old bean,” remarked the Britisher, “you are allowing your imagination to run rampant. That is an absurd theory, Cardona. I can vouch for it that this mysterious bell boy is not Jed Barthue.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t be too sure about that, Knight,” asserted Marquette, suddenly swinging to Cardona’s side. “You’ve been kind of sketchy in your descriptions of Jed Barthue. Maybe you’ve been buffaloed, too.”
“I remember that bell boy at the Goliath,” retorted Knight. “He was a crude sort. A bounder. Nothing like Jed Barthue.”
“Quibbling will bring us nothing, gentlemen,” put in Senator Releston, in a rebuking tone. “Let us consider this matter with less argument. I would suggest that we return to the Barlingham, for further conference. I see that Mr. Wesdren is already glancing at his watch. Perhaps it is time we should be going—”
“No, no,” interposed Wesdren. “I was merely wondering about Jollister. He is leaving tonight at ten o’clock. He should have started for the station. I wonder if the absent-minded fellow has forgotten it.”
Wesdren pressed the buzzer by the desk. The others waited, expecting Jollister to appear. Wesdren hummed again; then a third time, more impatiently than before. The door opened; but it was Hamilton who entered.
“Where is Jollister?” demanded Wesdren.
“He left quite a while ago, sir,” replied Hamilton. “Almost immediately after I saw him speaking to you, here at the door. He went to his little office; then came out, wearing his hat and coat. He had a briefcase, also.”
“Why didn’t you inform me that he had left?”
“He told me that he had mentioned that himself, sir. We all knew that he was to leave on the ten o’clock train.”
“Wait a minute. Hamilton.”
WESDREN picked up the telephone and dialed a number. He listened intently there was no response.
He hung up and looked at the others.
“Not at his apartment,” announced Wesdren. “No answer there. He must have left for the station. Yet I can not understand why he did not come back here. Unless—”
Wesdren paused speculatively, then turned and looked to Joe Cardona.
“Tell me, Cardona,” he questioned, “what was your opinion of Jollister’s behavior? Would you, as a detective, regard it as suspicious?”
“What else could you call it?” Joe delivered a grunt. “He was behind that door, listening in, before you opened it. It looks like he didn’t lose much time in clearing out of here.”
“That is all true,” acknowledged Wesdren. “Gentlemen, I wonder if — No, it seems impossible—”
“That Jollister could know Cady?” demanded Marquette. “It doesn’t look unlikely to me. Say — wasn’t Jollister spending a lot of time in New York, when he should have been here?”
“No,” returned Wesdren. “Actually, his time was his own. His work here had been completed. And yet Jollister — well, I wish we still had a chance to talk with him, that is all. The fellow did behave oddly this evening.”
“We can get him all right.” Vic Marquette was on his feet, looking at his watch. “Hamilton, get in a car with Tobin and show us how fast you can get to the Union Depot. Snag Jollister and bring him here. Tell him it’s important.”
“The ten o’clock train, Hamilton,” reminded Senator Releston, nodding his approval of the move.
“I know it, senator,” replied Hamilton. “I saw his tickets. He had Berth 12 in Car 69. Tobin and I will bring him here.”
HAMILTON departed in a hurry. A few moments later, the sound of a slamming door indicated that he and Tobin were on their way. Discussion lulled while the group waited for the report from the two Federal men who had played the part of servants.
A clock struck ten. Five minutes passed. Then the telephone bell rang on Wesdren’s desk. The square-jawed man answered the call; then turned the telephone over to Releston. The senator held a short discussion. His face was serious when he concluded.
“They made it,” said Releston, briefly. “Hamilton held up the train’s departure for five minutes. He and Tobin went through every car. Jollister was not aboard.”
“Are they coming back here?” questioned Marquette.
“Yes,” replied the senator, “but they are stopping at Jollister’s on the way. We should hear from them when they reach there.”
Ten minutes more. Another ring of the telephone. This time Senator Releston answered it. He spoke briefly; then gave instructions.
“Jollister is gone,” he announced, when he hung up. “The janitor opened his apartment. The place was empty, except for the furniture, which belonged to the building. All Jollister’s belongings and luggage has been removed.
“Hamilton asked if he should make a thorough inspection of the place. I told him to come back here, instead. This is where he and Tobin belong on duty. Nevertheless, we must prepare to trace Craig Jollister.
“The man has behaved suspiciously. He has deliberately misrepresented his place of destination. Tonight, we have made two important discoveries. One concerns a man named Cady; the other involves Jollister.
“I am ready to hear opinions. Suppose, Inspector Delka, that you give us yours. Incidentally” — Releston smiled slightly — “it is hardly necessary for you to preserve your identity of Jarvis Knight in surroundings such as these.”