Shadow 163 - Shadow Over Alcatraz 12-01-38, The by Maxwell Grant

Author:Maxwell Grant [Grant, Maxwell]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Street and Smith
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

DOUBLE DEATH

RECOGNITION gripped Harvey Lanyon.

That night in Denver - the man from the other room - his own mistake; all flashed to his tormented brain. With those thoughts came the rattle of a ratchet. The Shadow had found the device that loosened the chains.

Lanyon sat up. The chains clattered as he rubbed his numbed limbs. So far, his torture had been mental. He had felt the strain from the stretched chains, but the physical effects had not been serious. Dawn was the coming time when his joints would have begun to crack.

Doubly apologetic, Lanyon spoke regrets of his actions in Denver, also the stupidity with which he had today defied Zanigew. But Lanyon had real excuses for his latter action.

“I have been here long,” he explained. “Zanigew has told me more than the others. He plans crime such as has never before been known; and empire of evil that will stretch throughout the world!”

When The Shadow asked for more details, Lanyon couldn’t supply them. Zanigew had been hazy on most matters. One point, however, had impressed the Rainmaker.

“There was a word,” he recalled, “that I had never heard before. Zanigew mentioned it, and I took it for a name. The word was ‘Unaga’ - yes, I am sure that was it.”

A quick sparkle came to The Shadow’s eyes, but he wasted no time in commenting on the name. He wanted to learn what else Lanyon knew. He asked if the Rainmaker had learned the location of this headquarters. Lanyon had.

“We are near Puget Sound,” he declared. “I was awake when I was brought here in a boat that was low-built, like an old rumrunner.”

The Shadow asked for details of the stronghold. Lanyon was able to supply a few. The honeycombs were high in a cliff above the Sound. There were several levels, and the highest one housed Zanigew’s radio sending station.

“No calls have gone out from here, though,” stated Lanyon. “Zanigew said so. He wanted me to feel less hopeful, so that I would accede to the request he made today.”

“Which was -“

“That I design special mist bombs, to operate from rockets. He wants to project them in more rapid sequence.”

“You will design them.”

Lanyon didn’t oppose The Shadow’s quiet statement. The Rainmaker had previously realized his folly. In a pinch, Zanigew could design such bombs himself. It was preferable for Lanyon to submit, and thus avoid torture.

Furthermore, Lanyon admitted a fact that The Shadow had already guessed; namely, that Zanigew was holding many prisoners upon whom he could show wrath, since they were not as necessary as the inventors.

“He plans to use them, though,” asserted Lanyon. “As slaves, perhaps, for he is merciless. At least he has spared their lives, and intends to continue that policy.”

That fitted with The Shadow’s own analysis of Zanigew. Crime’s emperor had huge ambitions, that would require many followers. It would be easier for him to sign up prisoners few by few, than to depend upon the lengthy process of finding recruits.

Nevertheless, a criminal Napoleon would need generals.

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