"Next comes John Thorry," announced Pinkey. "Here's the dope on how he bought a lot of punk oil wells and charged them off to another of your companies - Western Oil Fields. He knew those wells were phony. We've got a letter from him, admitting it."
Pinkey didn't even bother to watch Jondran wilt. He brought out the evidence incriminating Martin Meriden. "Meriden pulled the same sort of deal,"
declared Pinkey. "He bought up a bunch of service stations that were only on paper. That did another of your nice little companies out of a quarter-million.
Meriden gypped Eastern Refineries, just like it shows here."
Jondran started an interruption. Pinkey stopped it with a wave of his hand. He planked Bron's confession on the table along with photographs of Meriden's son, Reggie.
"You think there's an explanation," declared Pinkey. "Sure there is!
Meriden wanted to keep his kid out of jail; Lewis Bron is scared he'll go there
himself. That's why Bron put an O.K. on your books, Jondran.
"Get it? Your own company was doped out of the fourth quarter-million.
Yes, sir - World Oil has plenty to cover up for itself. Here, Bill" - Pinkey shoved the papers and the envelope across to his companion - "put these away."
Pinkey watched Slick sort the papers. Jondran did the same. His eyes showed contempt for Pinkey; but he thought that persuasion might work with the big-shot's companion.
"I can't believe this, Mr. Quaine!" exclaimed Jondran. "You represent the law, yet you ally yourself with a blackmailer!"
Bill Quaine himself could not have registered a blunter look. Jondran heard his gruff voice:
"Yeah, I'm in on the racket. So what?"
Jondran couldn't answer but Pinkey did.
"We've got a million," snapped the big-shot. "Now we're all set to smear the front pages with this stuff about your companies. How would you like that, Jondran?"
"It would mean ruin!" gasped Jondran. "Stock of World Oil would drop, with
that of all it's subsidiaries!"
"Yeah. Your fifty-million-dollar company would be lucky if it was worth ten million. And half of your own money would go in the smash. But there's a way out of it, Jondran."
"There is?"
"That's right. An easy way out. Just pay us dollar for dollar. Double the ante. With another million bucks, we'll be satisfied!"
JONDRAN'S hands seemed feeble as they drummed the desk top. He, too, was thinking in terms of two million dollars; for he knew that he would have to restore the funds that crooks had already rifled. But Jondran apparently could see no other way out of the dilemma.
"Very well," he decided. "You shall have your million - but with one proviso. I must have a positive guarantee that it is all you intend to ask."
Pinkey opened the second envelope. From it tumbled a different sort of evidence. Here were facts that refuted the incriminating statements in the first envelope.
"Here's the whole way we worked the racket," affirmed Pinkey. "Copies of letters that we swiped. Forged papers pinning things where they didn't belong.
Signed statements by some of the boobs that worked for us - particularly a guy named Bugs Hopton.
"For instance, Meriden's son wasn't a safe-cracker. Bron didn't shoot that
guy Parrington. All this stuff will square the guys we framed, up to a certain point. Its good enough, ain't it, for you to keep as a receipt?"
He pushed the papers across the desk, with the order:
"Put 'em in the envelope, Quaine."
"Suppose I made that evidence public?" queried Jondran. "What could you do
then?"
"You won't spill it," rasped Pinkey, "because you'd have to tell everything that happened. What you'll do is keep it, so that you can explain what we've got, if we use it. All right, Jondran. Let's get back to the million."
Pinkey nudged for Slick to hand Jondran the second envelope. It came over,
and Pinkey noted the mark on it. Jondran fumbled the envelope between his hands.
"About the million dollars" - his tone was pathetic - "if you can wait a few days -"
"I thought you'd stall!" snarled Pinkey. "All right, we'll wait, but there'll be somebody else waiting, too!"
He reached for the telephone; dialed Ondrey's number. When Ondrey answered, Pinkey asked if Beth was all right. Mention of the name brought a startled look from Jondran. Pinkey was grinning at Ondrey's assurance that the girl was a prisoner.
"Put her on," suggested Pinkey. "Her old man wants to talk to her."
It was Maude who actually talked across the wire to Jondran; but she had Beth's tone to perfection. Jondran let the receiver chatter. Pinkey politely replaced it on the hook.
"When we get the million," he told Jondran, "you get your daughter. No strings to it; we just want to make sure that we get the dough without no trouble."
FUMBLING in his vest pocket, Jondran produced a key; he passed it weakly to Pinkey. He said that it was the key to the strong room that his visitors had
seen when they entered. With a pencil, Jondran scrawled the combination of the vault.
"You've got a million bucks in there?" demanded Pinkey. "You keep all that
money in the house?"
"Much of it is in securities," returned Jondran. "There are jewels, also
-
priceless jewels; but they mean nothing, compared to my daughter's safety!
Take
all of it, and be gone. If you will promise only to release my daughter - to return her -"
"We'll do that," assured Pinkey. "Come on, Bill."
"Wait a moment." Jondran arose, holding the envelope that had been given to him. "I want to show you how much I trust you, because I know my daughter's life depends upon a show of good faith. I am placing everything in your hands."
He tossed the envelope into the fire, where the flames licked it into oblivion. With a sweep of his arms, Jondran sat down in the chair at the desk, with the gesture of a man who had done all that was humanly possible.
"How was that, Slick?" chuckled Pinkey, as he and his sidekick crossed the
anteroom. "The way it's worked out, we can shake down the old geezer again, if we want to. Hang on to that envelope. Here - let me have it."
Slick made no objection. Pinkey pocketed the envelope; indulged in a short
laugh, in which his companion joined.
"This is one job that's as good as done," voiced Pinkey, "and nobody can queer it. Nobody!"
By the emphasis that Pinkey put on the word "nobody," it was plain that he
included The Shadow.
CHAPTER XX
THE FINAL MEETING
PINKEY FINDLEN never mistrusted his own ability when he embarked on crime.
He was doubtful only of the tasks he left to others; and tonight, for once, he had no qualms regarding events elsewhere. That telephone call to the Bubble Club had convinced Pinkey that all went well there.
All had gone well - but not for Pinkey. The Shadow, through his agents, had taken over that part of the game. He was the one who had real reason to be confident.
Wherever The Shadow might be, he knew that his preliminary plans had worked. It happened, however, that circumstances were to undergo a sudden reversal.
Trouble came to the Bubble Club immediately after Pinkey's phone call, trouble in the persons of arrivals who were capable of producing it.
Maude Revelle had replaced the telephone on the desk, after her well-disguised chat with Giles Jondran. Looking toward Claude Ondrey, she saw puzzlement upon the pudgy man's face. Ondrey couldn't figure why Maude had pretended to be Beth Jondran.
"Didn't get it, did you?" queried Maude. "Well, that was to fox Pinkey.
So
he wouldn't start any rough stuff over at Jondran's house. See the point?"
Ondrey saw it; but Bugs Hopton apparently didn't. He stared at Ondrey, as if hoping to read the answer in the latter's expression. What Bugs actually saw
w
as something that awoke his entire interest.
The wall panel was sliding open!
Whatever Bugs lacked in careful calculation, he was at least an opportunist. He had proven that on various occasions. Bugs could take long chances in a pinch. He proved it once again.
Bugs was the only person who saw the panel start to open. Before the noiseless wall section was fully open, Bugs guessed that the newcomers were members of his own gun crew.
"Look out!" Bugs shouted. "We're covered by guys that are working for The Shadow!"
Two men sprang from the elevator. Bugs was right; they were members of his
outfit. They had come here, wondering what was keeping Bugs. Finding out, they did their best to change the situation.
Like Bugs, they didn't reckon with the ability of The Shadow's agents.
Having been told about the elevator panel, the agents swung to meet the invaders.
Guns spoke. Harry Vincent beat one mobster to the shot. So did Cliff Marsland, another agent, stationed just inside the doorway.
Cliff was reputedly a tough guy, known as a killer in the underworld, which he patrolled for the real purpose of supplying information to The Shadow.
Cliff had stayed in the background to avoid recognition. His range was more difficult; but it didn't matter. Cliff was even quicker with a trigger than Harry.
In dispatching those shots, however, both gave opportunity to others. The two thugs who had been trapped with Bugs, made maddened dives. One reached Harry; the other grabbed Cliff. Though unarmed, they put up a hard struggle.
Even Claude Ondrey came to action. He made a grab for Clyde Burke, third of The Shadow's squad. Wrestling with the reporter, Ondrey had temporary advantage, thanks to his weight. Everyone in the room was in a struggle, except
Bugs and Maude.
Bugs didn't rush for the girl. He'd seen too much of Maude's nerve when she had taken things over on her own. Instead, Bugs dived for the elevator, reaching it behind a barricade of strugglers. The men who had launched forth were sprawled on the floor. Bugs cleared them with a bound.
By the time Maude was able to train her gun on Bugs, the panel went shut.
The shots that she fired merely ruined the decorative woodwork that concealed the slit in the secret door.
Maude couldn't even reach the wall. She was jounced about by the brawlers.
Forgetting Bugs, she turned to aid The Shadow's agents. By that time, they had matters in hand.
Harry and Cliff had beaten down the thugs; Ondrey was backing to his chair, with Clyde's automatic poking his fat stomach.
When Maude gave the details of Bugs Hopton's flight, it was too late to pursue the squinty mobleader.
OUTSIDE the Bubble Club, Bugs found the remnants of his gun crew. He decided that he wouldn't risk a counterattack on Ondrey's office. It would be too risky; furthermore, Bugs knew of someone who might need important aid.
"Listen, guys," he told his outfit. "The big-shot in this racket is Pinkey
Findlen. With him is a fellow named Slick Thurley, who looks like a dick named Bill Quaine. So don't let that fool you, when we meet up with them.
"They're calling on a guy named Jondran; and that's where we're going.
I'll slide in there first, and you lugs be ready when I call for you."
It wasn't far to Jondran's mansion. The street was silent; Bugs opened the
gate and sneaked his five-man crew in among the shrubbery that lined the inner side of the big wall.
Approaching the front door, Bugs rang boldly. He had his gun pocketed by the time a servant appeared.
"I'm here to see a guy named Findlen," began Bugs. "He's in talking to Mr.
Jondran."
The servant looked blank. "There's a dick with him," added Bugs. "A headquarters guy named Bill Quaine. I'm a friend of his."
"You're a detective?"
"Sure! See this badge?" Bugs whipped his coat back, flapped it quickly.
"That fixes it. Let me through."
The servant hadn't seen a badge; but he attributed that fact to the darkness. Obligingly, he let Bugs through, pointing out the way to Jondran's study.
Bugs reached the anteroom. He saw the grilled gate; it was wide open.
Beyond, he observed the two men he had come to see: Pinkey and Slick. They had opened the main door of the vault, and were just finishing the combination of an inner barrier.
They didn't even hear Bugs enter. The inner door came wide; the room lights showed an empty space backed by a brick wall. Bugs heard Pinkey voice an
oath.
"Jondran's stalled us!" rasped the big-shot. "This vault is empty! It ain't even a vault. It hasn't been finished. Wait'll we talk to Jondran. He won't get nowhere with this stuff!"
Pinkey turned about, growling for Slick to do the same. They saw Bugs; Pinkey came up with his gun. Recognizing his own gun, Pinkey lowered the weapon. Angrily, he demanded:
"What're you doing here?"
Hurriedly, Bugs explained how matters had gone bad at the Bubble Club.
That was all Pinkey needed to know.
"Jondran must have got wind of it!" he grated. "A wise guy, huh? Thinking he's safe because we haven't got the dame. We'll show him how safe he is! Come along!"
Pinkey strode to the door of Jondran's study; thrusting it open, he faced the big desk. Jondran was behind it; hearing the clatter, he raised his head.
Pinkey expected to see a terrified face. He was disappointed.
Jondran's pose of fear had been a mask. He had dropped it, after bluffing Pinkey.
HIS face stern, Jondran eyed the invaders with a sharp, defiant gaze.
Pinkey strode three paces forward, started to lift his gun.
It was a murderous gesture; but Pinkey didn't intend to rub out Jondran just yet. Maybe Jondran knew it, for he smiled.
"You're coming through with that dough, Jondran" - Pinkey's rasp meant business - "and you're coming through quick! Next time you stage a bluff, make sure you've got something to back it!"
Jondran did not budge. Nor did Pinkey's gun rise farther. The big-shot saw
the full reason for Jondran's calm. The gray-haired man was not alone. Pinkey hadn't noticed that at first; nor had his companions.
For the form near Jondran's desk was immobile: a statue that might have been carved from solid ebony. That figure was cloaked; upon its head rested a slouch hat. Against the blackish background, Jondran's protector would have passed unnoticed, except for a sound that issued from his lips.
That tone was a taunting laugh: a quiver that brought shuddering echoes from every wall; a mirth that rose amid the crackle of the flames in the fireplace. The flickery glow showed other features of that living shape in black.
Pinkey faced the burn of brilliant eyes that peered from beneath the hat brim. Below those brilliant orbs, he saw the twin muzzles of two automatics trained straight toward the doorway where he stood.
Pinkey found his voice. He spat the name: "The Shadow!" But the racketeer's words were weak.
They were drowned by the strident challenge that came from The Shadow's own lips!
CHAPTER XXI
FORGOTTEN CRIME
THOUGHTS were drumming through Pinkey's brain - thoughts that he didn't like. He realized that The Shadow had been here all along; that he had talked to Jondran while Pinkey and Slick were waiting in the reception room.
That was all part of the build-up for the pay-off that The Shadow wanted.
Jondran had cooperated, by telling The Shadow about the unfinished vault.
A neat game. One that ought to have forced Pinkey to quit. Perhaps it would have, if Pinkey hadn't caught a sudden brain wave. He realized that he still held a threat.
That threat was the envelope in Pinkey's own pocket: the one with the evidence incriminating four men who were important in Jondran's big business enterprises.
And Jondran had overplayed the bluff. He had chucked the other envelope in
the fire!
If Pinkey could only get out of this tight spot, he would still be able to
bring Jondran to terms.
Slowly, Pinkey backed away from The Shadow's guns. He tried to make his retreat seem a fear inspired action; but all the while, Pinkey was remembering that he had two men with him. He could depend on Slick and Bugs; and he knew that Bugs had a gun crew in readiness.
But that wasn't the only way in which Bugs counted. Bugs was dumb enough to be what Pinkey termed a "fall guy;" which meant that Bugs would bear the brunt when The Shadow attacked.
Almost at the door, Pinkey made a sudden sidestep. He grabbed Bugs, who was on his left. Making a gesture with his own gun, Pinkey shouted:
"Get The Shadow!"
Bugs lunged forward. He was aiming as he came; but his shot never reached The Shadow. A big automatic spoke; Bugs went sprawling, his own gun toppling at
an angle toward the floor. He served one purpose, though, in that mad endeavor.
Pinkey was out through the doorway before Bugs fell. Wisely, the big-shot had ducked behind Bugs.
As he scrambled across the anteroom, Pinkey found a man beside him. He gave hurried approval:
"Good work, Slick! You made it, too! Come on - give a yell for the crew and we'll go back after The Shadow!"
The mob was coming without call. They had heard the sound of gunfire.
They
were piling in through the front door, all five of them. Pinkey pointed them toward Jondran's study, giving the only shout that was needed:
"The Shadow!"
Thugs saw the Shadow at the doorway. His guns began to boom. They were joined by other shots that came from the front of the house.
Crooks sprawled, their guns unfired. The few who turned, writhing from the
floor, saw Inspector Joe Cardona heading a squad of detectives!
The Shadow had turned this house into a trap, letting the law decide the final issue!
THAT wasn't going to save The Shadow. Not if Pinkey knew it! He had reached a corner, hauling Slick with him. In the mix-up, Pinkey saw his chance.
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