Another fact was certain.
Ku-Nuan could not get word to Malfort. The master crook was already in Rowden’s penthouse, where calls would not reach him. Moreover, Ku-Nuan was a lone hand, who had no contact with Malfort’s minions inside the Maribar Hotel. Spark Ganza or Wardlock could have dispatched an alarm; not Ku-Nuan. With Spark and Wardlock dead, Malfort would gain no news.
THE SHADOW had a lone objective, one that he must reach with speed. His goal was the Maribar Hotel. He wanted to be there before the police reached Helmedge’s; for after that, the law itself would visit the Maribar Hotel, to investigate on Rennig’s behalf.
Taking a direction opposite Ku-Nuan’s route of flight, The Shadow reached the front street through a passage and headed toward the nearest avenue. There, he found his taxi parked by the curb. The Shadow’s long absence had not perturbed the driver; for The Shadow had given no orders to cover a period of delay.
There were instructions, however, as soon as The Shadow entered the cab. The vehicle sped from the curb; it covered three blocks, then stopped at a small cigar store. Alighting, The Shadow entered in the fashion of Arnaud. He found a telephone booth and put in a call. A quiet voice answered:
“Burbank speaking.”
The Shadow’s tone became a whisper.
“Instructions,” he voiced. “Deliver box at Maribar Hotel immediately, by armored truck. Instruct agents to be outside, awaiting taxicab. Expect police within half hour after I arrive.”
“Instructions received.”
Burbank was The Shadow’s contact man. He would flash the orders that The Shadow had given. All was ready in accordance with a prearranged plan. The Shadow’s word had alone been needed. The Shadow was returning to the original schedule that he had fixed for tonight.
Back in the cab, The Shadow ordered speed to the Maribar Hotel. He tugged at his Arnaud make-up; pulled his face away, to leave the features of Cranston beneath. Tonight, however, The Shadow resorted to final details. From the satchel on the floor, he produced a make-up box that glowed with a tiny light the moment that he opened it. The Shadow applied new dabs to the features of Cranston, covering every minor point.
Even then, The Shadow was not satisfied. Edging forward, he pulled at the back of the rear seat; reached down and drew out a flat dress suitcase. From it, he brought a tuxedo. While the cab wangled through side streets and unimportant avenues, The Shadow performed a rapid change of attire, even donning light shoes instead of the heavy brogans that had served him so well in battle with Ku-Nuan and Spark.
When the taxi neared the lighted district above Times Square, The Shadow’s transformation was complete. From the satchel, he took two automatics; shoved them beneath the ample front of his tuxedo jacket, into deep pockets that were made for the big guns. The Shadow, however, did not take a cloak and hat that were lying in the satchel.
THE cab stopped in front of the Maribar Hotel. The Shadow alighted, paid the driver and gave a leisurely wave of his hand to dismiss the cab. Strolling past the doorman, he entered the hotel lobby. He approached the desk where Barthow was on duty.
Quietly, The Shadow inquired for Major Philip Rowden; then announced himself as Lamont Cranston. Barthow nodded and remarked that he would call the penthouse at once. While the clerk was picking up the telephone, The Shadow added:
“I came here by taxi; but I expect my limousine to pick me up. Can you see to it that there is parking space out front?”
Barthow nodded, and called for the doorman. When the fellow arrived, the clerk gave him the instructions. That done, Barthow telephoned the penthouse. After a short conversation, he hung up and turned to The Shadow, with the invitation:
“You may go right up, Mr. Cranston. Major Rowden is expecting you.”
When The Shadow reached the elevator, he found two operators aboard, one explaining the mechanism to the other. The tall man who looked like a house detective came over from the cigar counter and also entered the elevator. The Shadow’s thin lips showed a barely visible smile.
Crooks were taking no chances tonight, as they had with George Furbish. They were on the watch for such chaps as Harry Vincent and Cliff Marsland. They feared no trouble from The Shadow, however. To them, he was Lamont Cranston, the victim whom they had been told to expect.
The inside men at the Maribar were set to reveal themselves tonight, should occasion so demand. The trio with The Shadow were but part of the camouflaged squad who worked for Kenneth Malfort. This night was to mark the final duty of Malfort’s henchmen.
For the penthouse itself was the trap where the master crook would seek his pay-off. Though The Shadow had been lured to snares before, this time he was seeking one of his own volition.
It would be the greatest of Malfort’s meshes. Yet The Shadow did not fear it.
CHAPTER XX – THE CHEST OF GOLD
WHEN The Shadow stepped from the elevator, he was met by Peju. The elevator descended with its three-man crew. Peju bowed and ushered The Shadow into Rowden’s living room. The Siamese did not recognize The Shadow as the cloaked visitant of a few nights before.
Nor did Major Rowden, ready with a greeting, see in the features of Lamont Cranston any traces that betokened Henry Arnaud. Hence The Shadow was calm, almost indifferent, when the major introduced him to another man who was seated in the living room.
This man was Kenneth Malfort, wearing the wig in which The Shadow had first met him. The master crook’s face still showed its brownish stain. His features were twisted in the contorted fashion that he used for the part of Tobias Helmedge. Major Rowden had been deceived by the masquerade; for he showed no trace of doubt when he introduced Malfort as Helmedge.
“Mr. Helmedge is another purchaser,” explained Rowden. “He came here unexpectedly tonight; I asked him to wait until you arrived, Mr. Cranston.”
“We can see the gems together,” inserted Malfort in Helmedge’s sharp tone. Then, with a chuckle: “We shall have equal choice, after all, Major Rowden.”
The Shadow looked toward Rowden with a puzzled gaze. The major explained.
“Mr. Helmedge brought no funds with him,” he stated. “Naturally, that gives you preference when you purchase, Mr. Cranston. But it appears that you, like Mr. Helmedge, have not brought money with you.”
The Shadow smiled as he opened a cigarette case and slowly extracted a cigarette. He used a lighter, puffed for a moment, then studied his companions.
“Have I your confidence?” he queried, quietly. “Your absolute assurance that what I tell you will not be repeated?”
Both Rowden and Malfort nodded.”My funds will soon be here,” stated The Shadow. “My chauffeur will be outside to see that they are delivered. The cash is coming in an armored truck.”
Noting the stares of the listeners, The Shadow explained further.
“Unfortunately,” he remarked. “I was absent from the country at the time when the government called in all gold. I had the sum of a few hundred thousand dollars carefully put away. It was entirely in gold coin. Naturally, I was embarrassed after my return. I feared that I would be regarded as a hoarder, should I turn in so large a sum.
“I have looked for a comfortable way to dispose of that gold. I have found the method, major. I shall use the gold to buy your jewels. You can easily take it with you to China. I fancy that it will be greatly welcomed there.”