Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 012 by Maxwel l Grant

Author:Maxwel,l Grant
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf

CHAPTER X. KILLERS AT WORK

CLIFF MARSLAND was correct in his assumption that The Shadow was watching Flash Donegan.

Cliff knew, after hearing Dip's vague speech over the phone, that Flash was secure in some room, with no thought of going abroad that night; and he pictured The Shadow close by the spot.

But in that, Cliff Marsland was wrong. The Shadow was far from Flash Donegan's abode.

When Cliff had called Burbank, tonight, he had used a new number. That was not unusual. Burbank changed his number frequently. The old one was always forgotten, and each of The Shadow's agents kept the new one constantly in mind.

Burbank's location was always a matter of the greatest secrecy. So Cliff had thought nothing of the fact that Burbank was in a new place. Yet therein lay the secret of The Shadow's watchfulness over Flash Donegan.

Burbank was sitting in the dark room of an apartment. He had moved in there that very afternoon. The apartment was in an old building, where tenants were few, and new ones were welcomed with very little question.

It had not been difficult for Burbank to obtain the very apartment he wanted. As a result, The Shadow's quiet-voiced agent was located in the room directly beneath Flash Donegan.

Before him, on a table, Burbank had two telephones. One had been in the apartment—an outside connection used by the previous tenant. It had been restored to service that morning.

The other phone was of Burbank's installation. It had a wire running upward toward the ceiling. Beside it was a switch box. Burbank had been listening over that telephone before Cliff had called by the outside wire.

Burbank was now dialing the outside phone. He had called a number before he had heard from Cliff, but had received no response. Now, with Cliff's call ended, the man in the darkness again dialed.

He heard the ringing; then a low, whispered voice came from the receiver. Burbank replied.

"Burbank reporting," he said.

"Report," came the voice.

A flashlight glimmered. Its tiny spot showed a sheet of paper covered with shorthand notations. Burbank began to read. His report was a complete account of the telephone conversation between Flash Donegan and Dip Riker.

But, unlike Cliff Marsland, Burbank was able to report both ends of the conversation. His statements were verbatim.

"No calls made by Donegan?" came the whispered question, when Burbank had finished speaking.

"None."

"I am standing by. Connect when Donegan receives a call."

"Right!"

Burbank hung up the outside phone and remained silent. He was a patient waiter; it was his business to wait. Yet, this very afternoon, Burbank had indulged in other work.

Flash Donegan had gone out during the afternoon. Burbank had learned of the fact through a call over the outside wire. It was then that Burbank had entered Donegan's apartment, with the aid of a special key that had been left for him.

The Shadow, master of locks, had not neglected to study the fastening on Flash Donegan's door the night on which he had paid his unseen visit.

In Donegan's, Burbank had worked swiftly. When he had finished his labors, not a clew remained.

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