&&000 The Shadow Unmasks, ch 1 &&111 =SHARKMEGLO was staring coldly from his apartment window. His eyes carried a glint that matched the glitter of the silver coin that =Shark was impatiently tossing with his right hand. Each click of =Shark's thumb nail brought a ring from the half dollar. Spinning, the coin landed with a thwack in the waiting palm, only to be started on another twirl. =Shark's hard, long-jawed face was known to the law. So was the fellow's coin-tossing habit. For months, the police had been looking for =SharkMeglo as the murderer behind the most serious wave of jewel robberies that had ever startled New York. The coin's spin ended with a final plop. =Shark's thick lips framed an ugly smile. A man had stepped in from the darkened street, to reach the lighted entry of the apartment house. =Shark had recognized the fellow's face, four floors below. The arrival was =HoodBleeth, =Shark's lieutenant. Soon, there was a rap on the apartment door. =Shark admitted =Hood and pointed to a small clock that stood on a table. It showed the time as quarter of eight. =Hood's puffy, pock-marked face showed apology. "I know I'm late," admitted =Hood. "Only it was no cinch getting word to all the crew. Anyway, the guys are all ready -." "Then we're set," interrupted =Shark, in a hard-snapped tone. "The chink slipped me the message when he brought the wash. The job won't be until nine o'clock." =Hood looked relieved. He settled into the best chair that the furnished apartment boasted. =Shark began to spin the coin again. =Hood looked anxious. He expected a further announcement. It came. "There'll be another rub-out," grated =Shark. "We can wise the crew when we get there." &&000 ch3 &&111 Police interference would bungle it. =Shark knew how to dodge the law. The Shadow's one chance was to stop =Shark at the spot where crime was intended: the home of =HugoSilsam. Everything had been ready when The Shadow found it necessary to abandon his role of =Cranston. That was why =Harry was going as The Shadow's substitute, to watch events in =Silsam's home. That did not mean that The Shadow would be absent. On the contrary, he would be close at hand to stop the criminal's thrust. =Harry's part was to size the situation and give The Shadow word, when and where to enter. GUESTS were coming from =Silsam's when =Harry arrived there; but the dinner party had not entirely ended. It was quarter of nine; and =Harry saw immediately that the house had not cleared sufficiently for =SharkMeglo to begin operations. =Harry gave his name to the servant who admitted him. The man was evidently =Silsam's butler, for his dryish face showed an air of authority as he craned his long neck forward. "I do not think that Mr =Silsam is expecting you, Mr =Vincent -." "That's all right," assured =Harry. "I called him an hour ago, and told him that I was a friend of Mr =Cranston. Mr =Silsam said to be here before nine." "You called Mr =Silsam? I thought it was Mr =Cranston who called." =Harry laughed indulgently. He told the butler that =LamontCranston was in Europe. As the man's face began to show enlightenment, =Harry added: "You must have misunderstood me over the telephone." The butler decided that it would be best to usher the visitor into =Silsam. The fellow led the way, and =Harry followed. During his talk with the butler, he had learned facts that he wanted, regarding the layout of the ground floor. The hallway was a long one. On the right, a broad doorway showed the living room, its deserted table illuminated by candles that had burned down to small stumps. On the left was a living room, from which =Harry could hear voices. &&000 ch5 &&111 =Shark was the only man who could reveal that wanted name. The Shadow had seen =Silsam drop dead. He had heard the barrage of police shots that felled =Wintham. The Shadow, himself, had finished =HoodBleeth, the only lieutenant who might have known something about the master-crook. Hence =Shark, rather than the swag, was the prize that The Shadow wanted, although he intended to take both. If need be, The Shadow would shoot down =Shark's protectors, sparing the killer until he could get his gloved fingers on =Shark's throat. Under such treatment, =Shark would blab everything he knew. Murderous though the fellow was, he required a mob. Without thugs at hand to aid him, =Shark would become nerveless. The trail reached a slummy neighborhood. =Moe's cab was staying well back, at The Shadow's order. Through clever tactics, The Shadow had concealed the fact that he was on the trail. The policy suddenly produced results. As the cab swung a corner, The Shadow saw the touring car stop, half a block ahead. =Moe doused the lights and pulled to the curb. Edging from the cab door, The Shadow saw developments ahead. A man was stepping from the touring car. Though he tried to stay away from the glow of a street lamp, the fellow's face was visible to The Shadow. So was the burden that the man lugged under his arm. It was =SharkMeglo, carrying the box of stolen gems. =SHARK sneaked into the doorway of a dilapidated house. The touring car rolled away. There was no need to follow it farther. The Shadow ordered =Moe to drive from the neighborhood. Two minutes later, The Shadow was entering the house where =Shark had gone. The building was one of an old row. The houses were all three stories high and looked very much alike. As The Shadow analyzed it, =Shark had chosen this place as a new hide-out. &&000 ch 7 &&111 "But I saw =Cranston! With my own eyes - outside the =Cobalt Club! And when =Silsam called the club, he said that he had talked with =Cranston -." =Weston's voice trailed to a worried mutter. For the first time, =Cardona began to understand. He remembered that the commissioner had made hazy comments regarding =Cranston. He also recalled a conference between =Weston and =Clyde, not long after the =Silsam robbery. It was obvious that the reporter had learned what bothered =Weston and had promised to look into the matter. After all, it was something that a reporter could handle better than the police. In fact, =Clyde apparently proved that with his next statement. "It was =Vincent who called =Silsam's," explained =Clyde. "He introduced himself as a friend of =Cranston's; but when =Silsam called the club, he still thought that =Cranston had been on the telephone. =Vincent hadn't reached =Silsam's at that time." "But the man outside the club -." "Was =Cranston's nephew. The one that =Stanley, the chauffeur, said was in New York." "But he was the image of =Cranston -." =Clyde shook his head. He produced another photograph. It showed a face very much like =Cranston's, but younger. There were slight points of difference, that =Clyde pointed out. "=LeroyCranston," named =Clyde. "From California. Nephew of =Lamont. This picture was in the Classic files." "Then this was the man I saw," queried =Weston? "But he recognized me, outside the club, and I had never met him!" "He may have known who you were," smiled =Clyde. "You mistook him for his uncle, but he did not have a chance to explain who he was." "But why did he disappear?" &&000 ch 9 &&111 The conference ended. =Chanbury ordered drinks; and every one indulged in other talk. During the conversation, =Henshew kept listening for one fact he wanted. At last he heard it while =Chanbury was chatting with =HarryVincent. The fact popped out that =Harry was living at the Hotel =Metrolite and intended to go there as soon as he reached =Manhattan. It was not long before =Henshew glanced at his watch and decided that he must be returning home. =Chanbury summoned =Eleanor and told her to call a cab. As he shook hands with =Henshew, =Chanbury remarked, with a smile: "=Silsam's experience may deter some persons from buying gems. To me it simply repeats the old lesson: be sure with whom you deal. Which means, Mr =Henshew, that when I am in the market, I shall call upon you. I always buy from persons of highest repute in their particular field." =Henshew was profuse with thanks. He even forgot to greet =Eleanor with an ogling smile, when she came to announce that the cab had arrived. ONCE in the taxi, =Henshew rode to =Manhattan - to =Times Square. There, he chose another cab and gave the driver an East Side address. =Henshew's new destination was close to =Shark's present hide-out. Leaving the cab, =Henshew waited near a dully lighted corner until he saw an approaching newsboy. He accosted the newsie with the question: "Have you change for a half dollar, boy?" The newsie didn't. He wanted to make the sale though. =Henshew looked to the second story above a darkened pool room and pointed out a window shade that showed a trickle of light. "I guess that's where the owner lives," he said. "He's still up. Take this half dollar and ask him for change." The newsboy went up a darkened stairway. =Henshew shifted away, ready for a run. The place was =Shark's hide-out; and =Shark was apt to use a gun if he felt jittery. That explained why =Henshew had chosen not to rap on =Shark's door in person. There was a three-minute wait. The newsboy returned with the change including some pennies. =Henshew bought the newspaper and walked westward to find another cab. His next move was to return to his apartment as promptly as possible and call in some friends who lived in the same building. =Henshew always had an alibi for himself on those nights when =Shark set forth murder-bound. To-night, robbery was lacking; but a victim had been named for doom. The half dollar that =Henshew had dispatched to =Shark was a death warrant, made out for =HarryVincent! &&000 ch 11 &&111 =SHARKMEGLO did not intend prompt death for =Harry. That was apparent through the orders that he gave to =MoyMing and the Mongols. =MoyMing became active, while the big captors still gripped their prisoner. As =Harry stared, he saw =MoyMing pull two broad ironing-boards from the wall and set them end to end. Next came big clothes-wringers. Grinning like an ape, the Chinaman clamped the wringers to the far ends of the boards. =Shark dug in a corner and found some odd lengths of rope. He brought them to =Harry's captors. Aided by =Shark, the Mongols began to tie the prisoner. =Harry started a valiant battle. =MoyMing had to pitch in, clawing furiously, before The Shadow's agent could be subdued. At last, =Harry lay prone on the floor, under the bulk of the Mongols, while =Shark and =MoyMing tied his wrists and ankles. That done, the Mongols hoisted the prisoner and laid him face upward on the ironing-boards. They held him stretched on the improvised table while =Shark affixed the wrist ropes to one wringer, and =MoyMing attached the ankle cords to the other. Both wound the wringers until the ropes were taut. =Harry could feel the strain. His ankles were drawn one direction, his arms pulled full length above his head, were stretched the opposite way. =MoyMing, =Shark's crafty tool, had transformed ordinary laundry equipment into one of the most terrible of torture devices. Ironing-boards and wringers made a rack, of the sort used in the Middle Ages. &&000 ch 13 &&111 For a moment, =Farrow thought that he was seeing The Shadow in some new disguise, then the sheer impossibility of the situation awoke a different idea. Long ago, =Farrow had decided that The Shadow's real identity must be a remarkable one, as incredible as The Shadow himself. =KentAllard had been twelve years in the Guatemala jungle. All that while The Shadow had been battling crime in New York and elsewhere. On the face of it, =Allard and The Shadow could not be the same person. That was why =Farrow decided that they were. He was used to the impossible, where The Shadow was concerned. "It is amazing," confessed =Farrow, "but I am confident that you are actually =KentAllard." "I am," stated =Allard. "Because I have actually returned to my own identity, I have decided that you should know it." The tone indicated that =Farrow could ask questions. Reaching for the newspaper, =Farrow refreshed himself on certain details that he had read that afternoon. "It states here," declared =Farrow, "that you were an aviator in the World War; an ace who was shot down within the enemy's lines. You were believed dead until a short while before the Armistice. Then you returned, after escaping from a prison camp where you had been confined for months. "After the war, you retained your interest in aviation and made several outstanding flights. The last was the long hop to South America, which ended somewhere in Central America. You were believed dead until a few weeks ago when it was learned that you were in Guatemala." =FARROW laid the newspaper aside. With a slight smile, he questioned, frankly: "How much of this is true?" "A great deal of it," declared =Allard. "I was actually a War ace. Winning air battles seemed to come to me naturally, and I gained a preference for night flights. The enemy called me the Dark Eagle. They were glad when they shot down my plane." &&000 ch 15 &&111 =Tyrune was still doubtful. =Chanbury brought out a list of =Silsam's collection. He spoke triumphantly. "The total tallies. Emeralds, rubies, sapphires - even the little diamonds. That's one trick =Henshew missed. How can he explain that his gems number the same as =Silsam's?" =Tyrune was impressed. =Chanbury drove home another point. "What price do you think =Henshew gave my uncut diamonds? A quarter million! Because I hoaxed him into it, by saying they were worthless. He'd be glad to take them for those planted jewels that have been going the rounds. Of course he would. My uncut diamonds have been appraised at four hundred thousand dollars. =Henshew mistook me for an eighteen-carat sucker." =Chanbury reached for the desk telephone. "I'm calling Inspector =Cardona." =Tyrune shook his head. "What can you prove against =Henshew," he questioned? "After all, his gems don't fit the weak description that we have of =Silsam's. =Henshew is safe. He can deny everything." =Chanbury settled back in his chair. He thought over what =Tyrune had said. He picked up a key that =Tyrune had laid on the desk. "If you had only brought back more evidence, =Jim," he said, "we could pin the goods on =Henshew. I'll label this pass-key Exhibit A; but it means very little. I hoped that you'd find clues in the apartment, while I was holding =Henshew here." "Here's the whole layout, Mr =Chanbury." =Tyrune produced the notebook. "But you told me not to disturb anything. So I didn't. I didn't think it wise to pinch any of those things in the desk drawer. =Henshew might have missed them." &&000 ch 18 &&111 WHEN =MaddenHenshew reached the hallway, he stopped there, riveted. His astoundment was greater than a minute ago. It seemed plausible that The Shadow could have taken the hidden gems; but the willing surrender of =SharkMeglo was inconceivable. It was then that =Henshew guessed the truth. Some one was standing past =Shark, forcing the killer forward. =Shark was a prisoner of The Shadow. =Henshew's revolver seemed to freeze in his hand. He could not have pulled the trigger if he had tried. =Henshew was as helpless as =Shark. With the killer's body as a shield, The Shadow could mow down anyone who started trouble. At that moment, =Henshew felt sure his game was up. The Shadow knew too much. =Henshew wanted to dodge back into the apartment. He realized that he could be instantly trapped there. Nothing that =Henshew could think up, would serve in this emergency. Chance provided, where schemes failed. Before =Shark had advanced another reluctant step, there was a clang from the elevator door. Looking straight along the hall, Henshew was facing the elevator. He saw its occupants; The Shadow could not. The Shadow's back was toward the elevator. "Get him," shrieked =Henshew, his cry spontaneous! "Shoot him down! The man in black!" There were two policemen in the car - beat-pounders that the elevator operator had summoned. They did not recognize The Shadow as someone who sided with the law. They heard =Henshew's cry as one of authority. They saw a big gun in The Shadow's fist. The weapon was pressed against the neck of a man whose face they could not spy. They took =Shark for a victim, not a killer. &&000 ch 21 &&111 THE thwarted robbery at =Henshew's made big news the next morning, for it involved =SharkMeglo, Manhattan's chief public enemy. The newspapers had it all wrong, thanks to the excitement of the persons who had hunted =Shark. It was =Shark who had staged the running fight through the apartment house; that, at least, was the opinion of those present. The proof lay in the fact that after the roving battler had disappeared on the second floor, =Shark made his break through the lobby. He was credited with doubling his trail, to make a bold escape. =Henshew had prompted that theory, by giving the coolest testimony of any. He swore that he had seen =Shark shoving a man ahead of him, to make a pretense of surrender; that both had entered the fray afterward. =Henshew's shout, as he described it, was: "Get the man in back," and the story was so good that other witnesses supported it! Evening newspapers played second fiddle to the morning sheets by reporting the tragic aftermath of =Shark's raid. They had a good human-interest story in the suicide of =JimTyrune. The private dick, it seemed, had taken the man hunt as his own crusade, ever since =Shark's murder of =Silsam. =Jim's failure to anticipate =Shark's latest raid had caused the private detective to consider life no longer worth while. =Henshew digested that chunk of news along with his lunch. He was most pleased to learn that =Tyrune had visited =Chanbury, to voice his morbid sentiments. =Henshew remembered =Jim at the apartment; the fellow had certainly looked gloomy. At the office, =Henshew found that =Chanbury had telephoned. He called the art collector, and heard =Chanbury's sad comments on the =Tyrune tragedy. Changing the subject, =Chanbury asked if =Henshew could call at nine that evening. The jewel broker agreed. =Chanbury mentioned that he was dining with the police commissioner, to give a word-for-word statement of =Tyrune's glum talk; but he would be home by nine.