Maxwell Grant - The Shadow 284 by The Shadow Meets The Mask

Author:The Shadow Meets The Mask
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2011-11-15T00:47:42+00:00

"But I understood you to mean just past victims - not future."

"What do you mean?"

Weston's demand was almost savage, a protest against by-play. In the brief

pause, Margo whispered the query to Clyde:

"Just what does Lamont mean?"

"Plenty." Clyde was counting the persons present. "I think he's playing a long shot that is going to come home. Wait for the pay-off, Margo."

Cranston was speaking again, as he gestured to the group that half-filled Sloane's living room.

"There are too many people here," explained Cranston. "More people, I believe, than The Mask has robbed."

"Certainly," returned Weston. "Since The Mask has been confining his activities to the neighborhood around the Hotel Alexandra, I thought it a good idea to invite some business men from that section."

"You mean business men who might expect trouble from The Mask."

"Of course. Who else?"

"Then we agree, commissioner." Calmly, Cranston inserted a cigarette in his holder, letting everyone see without a statement of the fact, that he didn't smoke cork-tipped Talleyrands. "When I said future victims, I meant -"

Jangling bells were interrupting. The penthouse had two telephones and both were ringing at once. Sloane was answering one, his servant was taking the

other. Both calls were for the commissioner and Weston, anxious to get back to his discussion with Cranston, tried to speed things by handling both calls at once. His ears clamped between the receiving end of the two hand-telephones, Weston gave a hello that did for both mouthpieces.

What came back electrified him. The commissioner looked as jarred as if he

had received a double-short circuit. He couldn't find words to answer the two-way barrage that poured into his ears. From one receiver came the voice of Inspector Joe Cardona, from the other, that of the commentator, Ron Meldor.

Down went the telephones, missing their hooks, a detail which Sloane and his servant rectified. Then:

"There's been another robbery," began the commissioner. "Right around the corner from the Hotel Alexandra."

A sallow-faced man bobbed out of the general group that flanked the room.

His face looked more than scared; it was actually hunted.

"No, no!" he exclaimed. "Don't say that, commissioner - don't tell me -"

Cranston obliged with a calm interruption.

"Is your name Felix Blauder?"

The sallow man gave a quick, worried nod.

"You own a jewelry store near the Hotel Alexandra?"

"That's right." Blauder tried to calm himself, by tightening his lips.

"I'm a bit worried - over some money - over a pay-roll -"

Cranston's smile was slight but it made Blauder recoil. Blauder's afterthought, that 'pay-roll' gag, didn't quite wash with Cranston. The year's wages of the few clerks who were underpaid by Blauder wouldn't be enough to bother the man whose real racket was fencing jewelry. Blauder knew it and shied

from Cranston's silent impeachment, only to wonder if Cranston really knew.

Cranston had a way of making people wonder what he knew and how much of it. His smile was gone so suddenly that Blauder couldn't have sworn that he ever saw it. Turning to Clyde, Cranston said impassively:

"Then you tell him, Burke."

"It's tough luck, Mr. Blauder," declared Clyde, "but somebody cracked into

that store of yours and got away before the police could grab him.

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