“Maybe you’re right, Hembroke,” agreed Cardona. “I like to talk with a fellow that’s on the level. Maybe we’ve both made a mistake — going separately to—”
“I got a break down at Baruch’s hock shop,” put in Hembroke, “but what did it get me? Nothing. All I can say is that I’ve been on the job. But I didn’t land my man at the Club Janeiro — or at the Hotel Gigantic — or last night, for that matter. Say, Joe, I need a fellow like you to work with me; and maybe I could give you a slant on some of the problems that you’ve bumped up against.”
“That’s fair enough,” commented Cardona. “You were up at the Gigantic pretty quick, weren’t you, Hembroke? Say — what about that elevator mix-up?”
“It began on the twenty-fourth floor. Someone crowned the elevator operator. Then dropped to the eighth.”
“Where do you think they took off Selfridge Woodstock?”
“Anywhere along the line. Maybe below the eighth — then up again. Maybe between the eighth and the twenty-fourth. But we went through that whole hotel, Joe.”
“What was the number of the elevator?”
“No. 9. Say, Joe — what’s that got to do with it? Have you got a line on something?”
“What are you doing tonight?”
“Off duty.”
“Want to come along with me?”
“Sure. Where?”
“To the Hotel Gigantic. I’m going to look into that elevator business.”
“Say, Joe — Hembroke’s tone was eager — “if you’re wise to something, let me in on it! I’ll give you all the credit. That would fix it great with the commissioner.”
“Tonight, then.”
“Why tonight? It you’re on the trail of something real — say, Joe, have you been up to the Gigantic?”
“I’m going up there tonight.”
“Why not go up now — together?”
“Tonight is the time. I don’t want anyone to get wise.”
“I can fix that, Joe. Through Belville, the chief hotel detective. Say — I can have Elevator No. 9 off duty — waiting for us on one of the upper floors—”
CARDONA considered. Here was a chance to prove the authenticity of The Shadow’s call. Cardona did not doubt The Shadow; but he did respect The Red Blot’s prowess. Perhaps that supercrook knew that Cardona had received messages from The Shadow in the past. Perhaps the call had been a cleverly perpetrated hoax.
“Go ahead,” ordered Cardona. “Fix it with Belville.”
Detective Sergeant Markham was coming in the door. Hembroke strolled out and returned in about five minutes. He gave a sign to Cardona. The ace joined him.
“All set,” whispered Hembroke, as the pair left the office together.
They reached the Hotel Gigantic, and took an elevator to the fourth floor. Here they found the door open in front of Elevator No. 9. There was no operator.
“I’ll take care of it, Joe,” asserted Hembroke. “I can run this buggy. Which way — down or up?”
“Down.”
Hembroke clanged the door and dropped the elevator to the basement level. He turned questioningly to Cardona.
“We’re at the bottom,” protested Hembroke.
“Try it,” asserted Cardona. Hembroke ran the elevator downward. It descended another level. The detective whistled. He opened the door and peered into blackness.
“Say, Joe!” gasped Hembroke, “How did you get wise to this? This must be the only shaft that comes down here! This is the way they took Woodstock, sure enough!”
“Go easy,” ordered Cardona. “We’ll only move in far enough to get the lay. Ten o’clock tonight is the time we’re due to be here.”
Cardona stepped into the passage. His flashlight glimmered on the stony flooring. Then, before the ace detective could emit a cry, men were upon him. Stealthy figures crouching in the blackness leaped forward and fell upon Cardona en masse.
Vainly, the sleuth tried to call for Hembroke. He realized dully that the other detective would be unable to help him. There were enough antagonists to take care of two as readily as one.
A pungent odor filled Cardona’s nostrils as a chloroform-soaked rag was clapped against his face. All went black after that.
The Red Blot had struck! Joe Cardona was in the hands of the enemy.
The ace detective had failed to do The Shadow’s bidding. This premature investigation had been against instructions. Joe Cardona had offset The Shadow’s craft by his own stupidity!
CHAPTER XXII
ZERO HOUR
IT was nearly ten o’clock. In the light of a gloomy cavern, a horde of mobsters were slowly moving toward a passageway that cut through solid rock. The outlet which they were choosing was not the only one from this spot. Rounded holes, large enough for the accommodation of a human form, led off like burrows in other directions.
Socks Mallory was in charge of this mob. Back, at the side of the cavern, were two other men. As the crew of thugs disappeared into the yawning gap, this pair followed.
The Red Blot and his second lieutenant! Both were here tonight. Only their backs were visible as they followed the mob led by Socks. Those backs were seen by peering eyes that keenly searched the cavern.
A hidden watcher was looking from the crevice of a partly opened door. The Shadow was behind the barrier that blocked off the corridor to The Red Blot’s office and the passages beyond. He had come through from the secret way which led to the Falconette Apartments.
Slow minutes passed. It was precisely ten o’clock. The door opened; the tall figure of The Shadow stalked across the gloomy cavern and entered a passage opposite the one which The Red Blot and his hordes had taken a few minutes before.
The Shadow followed this blackened corridor until a turn put him completely out of sight from any who might have returned to the central cabin. A tube was in The Shadow’s hand. It clicked. A red flare threw a weird glow along the passage.
The signal to Joe Cardona and his men, waiting in the cavity beneath the Hotel Gigantic!
Rapidly, The Shadow retraced his course. He crossed the cavern, left the door of the corridor open, and reached the little stonewalled office. There, he produced the map of Manhattan. Upon it, he placed an unsealed envelope. Retiring, The Shadow reached the gloom of the corridor and slipped beyond the door at the farther end. His hidden lips whispered a mocking laugh.
One minute — two minutes — still The Shadow waited in darkness. His keen eyes could see through the corridor; into the cavern; across to the blackened hole that led to the Hotel Gigantic.
Three minutes.
No sign of the approaching detectives. Sufficient time had elapsed for them to be here. The Shadow’s laugh came low and tense. More seconds drifted by; a flashlight clicked behind the door where The Shadow was concealed.
A disk the size of a silver dollar shone upon the topmost step of the downward flight. The Shadow had not been here tonight. He knew what was below; now, he had an inkling of a disaster which had fallen.
THE black cloak swished as The Shadow swept downward. His invisible form stopped at a heavy barrier, The light focused on a padlock; then moved up to a wicket. A gloved hand slid the little opening aside.
Light from within revealed a gloomy room. The Shadow’s eyes, staring through bars, saw the forms of drowsing men resting upon cots.
The Shadow had noted that collection of prisoners before; now, his quick gaze saw a new addition. On a cot close to the door was stretched the motionless form of Detective Joe Cardona!
A steel pick worked while the flashlight glimmered on the padlock. A second click — a third — the padlock sprang open. The Shadow softly slid the door into the stony wall. His spectral figure swept into the dungeon.