Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 269 by Maxwel l Grant

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

CHAPTER X. A HUNDRED GRAND

THE SHADOW'S move began with a telephone call. He dialed the number of Hanson Bartley's private apartment suite at Mercy Hospital. He spoke in the pleasant tones of Lamont Cranston.

"I thought I'd call you, Hanson, and find out how things are going. Have you read the newspapers?"

Bartley groaned.

"Yes; I have. It's terrible!"

The Shadow pretended surprise.

"Really? I thought things were improving. According to the papers, the man who died in the receiving room was not really poisoned. The medical examiner states that the cause of death is unknown. Surely, Mercy Hospital can't be blamed for something as vague as that."

Bartley's grunt on the wire sounded impatient.

"The fact that the police department's suspicion of foul play has lessened has made things tougher for the hospital."

"How do you mean?"

"The papers are playing up the hospital's inefficiency and poor management. They're now charging that the death of that man resulted from the delay in the house surgeon examining him. They're trying to prove that our ward staff is undermanned, our nursing staff careless and indifferent."

"That's rot," Cranston said.

"Of course it is! But it looks plausible on account of the drugging of Mr. Verne."

"How so?"

"The report of the medical examiner has ruined the newspapers' hope for a juicy murder. They're keeping the story alive by playing up Verne's mishap. They claim it was caused by the carelessness of the floor nurse. They're demanding an investigation into the whole administration of Mercy Hospital."

The Shadow was aware of this, but he pretended to consider it of no importance.

"Fiddlesticks! All Mercy Hospital needs is support from people of standing in the community. As a trustee, I feel it my duty to start the ball rolling. Therefore, I have decided that this is an ideal time for me to carry out a promise made earlier. I'd like to make a donation to the endowment fund -"

There was a slight gasp at the other end of the wire. It was followed by silence.

Cranston said blithely, "Well? Didn't you hear me?"

"Yes. Of course! It's... it's wonderful! How much are you planning to donate, Lamont?"

"One hundred thousand dollars," Cranston replied.

He could sense the tremor of Hanson Bartley's quivering lips.

"That's generous. But I wouldn't do it just now if I were you. Why not wait until things quiet down a little?

Think of the notoriety you may draw toward yourself."

Cranston laughed indulgently.

"I'm really helping myself as well as the hospital. The hundred-thousand-dollar payment will be recorded in my income-tax statement as charity. It will pull me down a peg or two from the higher-tax brackets.

Actually, I will save almost as much in taxes as I pay over to the hospital."

"Are you serious about this, Lamont?"

"Of course."

"Before you do anything about the gift, will you come and see me?"

"Certainly."

The eyes of The Shadow gleamed as he hung up.

HE drove across town to Mercy Hospital, rode up in the private elevator on the avenue side that connected with Bartley's apartment.

He expected to find the suave Dr. Sutton there, standing watchfully at Bartley's elbow.

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