“Yes. After all, if we could approach the chap peaceably, we might learn most. He is no bounder. His correspondence shows him to be a gentleman.”
“An excellent suggestion, Jurling. Suppose you obtain those letters from your hotel. Take Detective Cardona with you and return promptly, in case Burke arrives here.”
“Burke is the journalist?”
“Yes, but one who will wait for his story. Then we will arrange plans as we have already discussed them. The facts regarding Signet will be kept from the newspapers. We will try to contact Signet.”
“And if we succeed?”
“The work will rest with you and Cardona. I prefer strategy to blundering.”
“Well termed, commissioner.” Jurling turned to Cardona, “Are you ready, old top? Shall we go?”
“Sure,” agreed Cardona. “At what hotel are you staying?”
“The Tolberc.”
“We’ll make the round trip in half an hour,” declared Joe, to Weston.
The two men departed. Lamont Cranston arose from the chair that he had taken. Again, he shook hands with Ralph Weston.
“You are leaving, Cranston?” demanded the commissioner. “Just as the trail is getting warm?”
“I have my appointment,” reminded The Shadow. “Perhaps I shall call you later, commissioner.”
STROLLING from the house in leisurely fashion, The Shadow walked to his limousine and entered it. In the easy tone of Cranston, he ordered Stanley to drive him to the Cobalt Club.
The limousine rolled away. Its lone passenger sat staring idly from the window. But The Shadow’s mask-like countenance wore a thin, fixed smile. Weston was right; the trail was getting warm, thanks to the chance appearance of Dale Jurling, British investigator. But The Shadow was thinking far ahead. He was seeing along the trail, with its odd bypaths. He was fitting facts that he had noted; recalling observations that he had made. The Shadow was formulating plans that were his own.
CHAPTER XIII
THE SHADOW’S TRIANGLE
BLUE light glowed in The Shadow’s sanctum. Beneath the glare, hands were at work. Agents had reported at the end of the day. The Shadow was reviewing their findings.
Clyde Burke had gone to Tilton’s. The reporter had brought along a copy of the Classic that carried Treblaw’s ad. Receiving Commissioner Weston’s confidence, Clyde had been allowed to read the carbon-copy letters that Dale Jurling had brought from his hotel.
A conference had followed. Examination of the Signet correspondence showed that Treblaw was to expect a reply ad. None had been inserted in later copies of the Classic. The inference was that Signet had learned of Treblaw’s death; therefore he had not replied.
Weston had decided to put another ad in the Classic. A copy of it, forwarded by Clyde Burke, was lying on The Shadow’s table. It read:
SIGNET: Terms agreeable. Am waiting for reply. T.
This T did not mean Treblaw. It referred to Tilton. Dale Jurling had suggested that if Signet had read of Treblaw’s death, he would also have learned of the affray at Tilton’s. He would infer that Tilton actually possessed the Cellini manuscripts. This suggestion of Jurling’s had led to the phrasing of the ad.
A report from Harry Vincent: Tully Kelk was still in his apartment at the Doswind. Harry had seen Kelk’s servant. The fellow was a melancholy-looking sort. He had gone out shortly after nine o’clock this evening, to return with an early copy of the Classic. Thus Kelk had probably seen the new advertisement to Signet.
Cliff Marsland’s report from the underworld: No trace of Duster Shomak. The mobleader was probably hiding out somewhere, waiting for new orders from his chief. Thus Duster remained as a doubtful but dangerous quantity in whatever might lie ahead.
The Shadow pushed reports aside. A sheet of white paper came into view. On it, The Shadow traced an indelible triangle; one that he surveyed steadily. Then, in the center of the diagram, he inscribed the name of Stanton Treblaw.
Crime had involved Treblaw. The old man had died; his manuscript was missing. A double hunt was on, Police were searching for a murderer; they were also looking for the vanished manuscript. Two persons were already involved in the chain of circumstance. The Shadow wrote one name at the left point of the triangle: “Tully Kelk.”
Briefly, The Shadow began notations of the part that Kelk had played. Kelk had bobbed suddenly into the picture on the night of Treblaw’s murder, arriving in the Hotel Goliath shortly after crime had been accomplished.
There he had undoubtedly searched for the Cellini manuscript. He had not found it. His next step had been a visit to Treblaw’s home, where he had conducted a secret search prior to Wickroft’s entrance.
Possibly Kelk had not wanted Wickroft to know that he had come there. It was likely that Kelk mistrusted Wickroft, despite the loyalty that the secretary had sworn. However, Kelk, finding his presence discovered, had proceeded with a smooth game. He had indicated that he was glad to come face to face with Wickroft; and he had made the man believe it.
Tilton’s was the next logical step. Kelk had shown good method in inducing Wickroft to go there. He had found out — by using Wickroft as his proxy — that Tilton did not possess the manuscript. From that moment, Wickroft had been of no further use to Kelk.
Then the raid had struck — unexpectedly and with viciousness. The entrance of The Shadow had saved old Tilton; but in the battle, Wickroft had died. A most desirable result, from the standpoint of Wickroft’s chief. For Wickroft, squealer and weakling, was out of the way and could do no further harm.
Kelk was still waiting in New York. His position was apparently secure. The law had found no trail to him. Kelk thought that he had eluded The Shadow. It was obvious that Kelk did not have the manuscript; and it was also plain that he planned to get it. Kelk would be heard from again.
THE SHADOW wrote another name at the right point of the triangle: “Dale Jurling.” Here was a man whose openness stood as direct contrast to Kelk’s stealth. Jurling had come directly to Commissioner Weston. He had furnished facts regarding the death of Stanton Treblaw.
Working with the law, Jurling had mapped out a definite course. He, too, was seeking some trace of the Cellini manuscript; and he had given proof of its immense value. Joe Cardona had joined Jurling in the quest. Who, then, had the missing manuscript? Someone, certainly, whose exact identity was as yet unknown. To indicate that person, The Shadow placed an X at the top of the triangle. Then, on another portion of the paper, he inscribed a second three-sided figure.
He used no names on these points. Instead, he reduced three persons to factors. At one corner of the triangle he marked the word: “Criminal.” At a second corner; he wrote: “Investigator.” At a third point, he placed the title: “Signet.”
There stood the facts. A curious triangle that showed the situation plainly. The chain was best studied in reverse. The Shadow began with Signet.
Who was Signet? Obviously, a person who fitted the description Dale Jurling had given. A man of means who had found art treasures abroad. Items, like the eleven silver statues, that he thought were genuine works of Benvenuto Cellini.
He had acquired these and other art objects, probably at reasonable prices. Then he had wanted proof of their authenticity. He had learned somehow that Stanton Treblaw owned an unpublished Cellini manuscript. Perhaps he had gleaned that fact from some European collector. He had offered Treblaw a high price for the folio. His final offer had been accepted.
It seemed doubtful that Signet could have acquired the manuscript from Treblaw. Yet, unless Signet held the manuscript, who did? That was a puzzling point; nevertheless, it brought a soft laugh from The Shadow. The master had gained an important inkling.