The hanging light — the tempting envelope. To remove the envelope meant that the light would strike the cell planted in the desk. The Shadow had sensed the danger. He had gone to a place of safety before letting the death trap operate.
The book upon the envelope had enabled him to withdraw the latter with impunity; to learn what he had so cunningly suspected — that the envelope was there to bring death to whoever might take it away.
THIS was no plot of an ordinary gang leader. The intended death of Alfred Sartain had shown the working of a scientific brain; this discharged trap brought more intensive proof of the same fact.
The photoelectric cell was in itself ingenious. The use of a new and remarkable explosive showed still greater craft. Silent death — by a sighing, puffing combustible had awaited The Shadow here tonight.
The instructions which Cliff Marsland had heard Slips Harbeck repeat had been carefully arranged. Their subtle point was the mention of documents. That envelope had rested as a sure temptation that would lead any ordinary investigator to his doom.
The Shadow had divined the danger. He had opened the envelope to find it messageless. He had avoided the menace; he had let the almost noiseless explosive wreak its damage upon furnishings alone.
Professor Urlich’s snare had failed. The Shadow, the master who had spoiled the scientist’s scheme of death for Alfred Sartain, had himself avoided the subtle doom set here tonight.
It had been defensive action. Nothing concerning the enemy’s identity had been revealed. But it placed The Shadow one step nearer his goal — a meeting with the perpetrator of crime whose hand The Shadow had previously discovered.
A few minutes later, the apartment in Langley Court was empty. The secret visitor had departed. The Shadow had met the challenge of silent death!
CHAPTER IX. THE NEXT MOVE
THE next day found Professor Folcroft Urlich seated at a little desk in the small office above his laboratory. The cunning-faced scientist was reading a newspaper.
Larry Ricordo, sullen in demeanor, was standing by the window, looking out toward the old deserted mansion that obscured all view of the round-shaped building in which the two men were located.
“Well,” remarked Urlich, “it appears that something caused our trap to fail. This report speaks of the damage wreaked by a mystery explosion in Barnsworth’s apartment. It tells of no casualties, however.”
“The Shadow is too smart, professor,” growled Ricordo. “It’s a sure bet he went into that place. Maybe the works blew before he got there.”
“Impossible,” responded Urlich. “If you followed instructions as I gave them, Ricordo, there could have been no premature results. You are right when you attribute cleverness to The Shadow. Something must have made him suspect that envelope.”
“I fixed the place the way you told me,” asserted Ricordo. “The Shadow is a fox — that’s all. I don’t see how we can get him unless we gang him. That isn’t such a hot idea, either. Others have flopped when they tried it.”
Professor Urlich chortled. He turned again to the newspaper report, and finally laid the sheet aside.
“At least my explosion showed the power that I anticipated,” he said. “It was the noise of the glass from the breaking window that attracted people to the spot shortly after the event occurred. The police, as usual, are baffled. They probably did not see any significance in the fragments which were left from the photoelectric cell.”
“That was a great idea, professor,” admitted Ricordo. “I was sold on it when you gave me the demonstration in the laboratory. I figured that if anything could get The Shadow, that would be it. But the thing flivved, just the same. Where do we stand now?”
“Exactly where we were before,” responded Urlich, “but with more to our credit. We have proved my theory of how The Shadow learned of the plot on Alfred Sartain’s life. We have learned conclusively that Slips Harbeck is being watched.”
“Yes,” blurted Ricordo suddenly, “and I figure I know the guy that was watching him. I called Slips this morning, professor.”
“Ah!’, exclaimed Urlich. “What did he have to say?”
“He told me that a gazebo named Cliff Marsland was sticking near the room where he was listening on the phone.”
“Who is Cliff Marsland?”
“A tough baby who works pretty much on his own. Did a stretch up in the Big House — Sing Sing, you know — and since then he’s been playing a pretty smooth game. I’ve met the guy; always wondered why he was flush with plenty of dough. I’ve got the answer now.”
“You think he may be The Shadow?”
“No. He couldn’t be. The Shadow was operating while Marsland was still in stir. But I figure he’s working for The Shadow. If we have to give The Shadow the works in a big fight, we’ll look out for Cliff Marsland, too. It might be a good plan to bump off Marsland now.”
“Again you are wrong,” interjected Urlich. “This discovery merely puts us on a better footing. The Shadow is watching Slips Harbeck, our agent. Very well; we, too, can watch Cliff Marsland. The Shadow hopes that through Slips he may reach us. We can plan to reach The Shadow through Marsland.”
“That sounds good, professor. But you’ve got me buffaloed. What’s the next move?”
“To again snare The Shadow. Consider this, Ricordo. The Shadow may believe that we were ignorant of the fact that Wesley Barnsworth was not in New York. He may think that he discovered the trap that was set for Barnsworth. Obviously, The Shadow departed after the explosion. He knew that Slips Harbeck and his men would not approach while the police were there. Therefore, I intend to repeat my experiment.”
“You mean with the same kind of a trap?”
“No. A different one. I would not use the same plan twice. There will be work for you again, Ricordo; but it will be more simple. Since I observed Alfred Sartain in his studio, I have been perfecting a new device. I shall show it to you and explain its purpose later.”
“But if you miss out again—”
“I do not expect to miss. Nevertheless, I am prepared. You understand the subtlety of my methods, Ricordo. You are gradually learning their diversity. My ways are legion. We are getting closer to The Shadow with each move. His death will be the ultimate result. Come.”
THE scientist led the way down the spiral stairway. The two men entered the laboratory. The round room was illuminated by daylight that came through the ample skylights around the outer circle. Two men were at work by high benches.
“My experiments always continue,” remarked the professor. “These men obey every instruction that I give them.”
“You can trust them?” inquired Ricordo.
“Why not?” asked the scientist. “They are foreigners. They do not speak English. Each of them — Sanoja and Rasch are their names — is a criminal. I brought them to America after a trip abroad. They are wanted by police in Europe. They are forced to rely entirely upon me.”
Urlich approached the man whom he had called Sanoja. The professor spoke in a foreign tongue, and the workman answered him. Urlich turned to Ricordo.
“Sanoja is not quite ready with the device that I invented,” said the scientist. “We shall have to wait a short while. In the meantime, let us go below. I have not shown you what I have downstairs.”
Larry Ricordo repressed the curiosity that immediately seized his mind. He knew that there must be a large chamber beneath this one — a round room within the circular passage that they had followed upon their arrival at Professor Urlich’s domain. He wondered if it could be another laboratory.
This upstairs room, with its collection of huge crucibles, cauldrons, and giant test tubes, was amazing enough to Larry Ricordo. The gang lord had not been able to imagine what lay below. Now he was to observe.