The Shadow 181 The Crime Ray by Maxwell Grant

Author:Maxwell Grant [Grant, Maxwell]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Street & Smith
Published: 1939-08-31T22:00:00+00:00

The first, of course, was Titus Longarth, the bridge builder who had received crime’s latest threat. The second was Morton Delcott, whose properties, though guarded by police, were marked for targets by Shag’s henchmen. The third was Lamont Cranston.

The Shadow was studying the desk map, while Weston passed each man a special identification card to carry on the expedition. As Cranston glanced at his card, Weston saw him give an approving nod.

“Thank you, commissioner,” said The Shadow, in a quiet tone. “I have a luncheon engagement and may not be able to reach the club before three. With this card, I can follow you in my own car.”

Though Weston would have preferred to have Cranston with him, he finally decided to let the matter stand, as it seemed highly likely that Cranston would arrive in time. But when The Shadow strolled from the commissioner’s office, he had no intention whatever of joining Weston’s party.

His luncheon engagement was at one o’clock. At that hour, The Shadow met Dixie Mayland and introduced her to a young man whose handsomeness intrigued her. He, in turn, showed a definite admiration for the red-haired girl which made them friends immediately. The young man was Harry Vincent.

Classing his agent as a private investigator, The Shadow announced, in Cranston’s fashion:

“Mr. Vincent handles all matters confidentially. Since he is not a personal friend of the police commissioner, it would be preferable for you to discuss matters with him, rather than with me. He understands the situation and you may rely upon his advice. Good afternoon, Miss Mayland.”

It didn’t take Dixie longer than ten minutes to become fully convinced that Harry Vincent was a

“square-shooter,” as she herself expressed it. A lapse of twenty-four hours had more and more convinced the girl that Lamont Cranston was acting in the interest of everyone concerned.

Meeting him again, she had fully trusted him; and to find that Cranston had friends like Harry Vincent was proof to Dixie that her opinion was justified.

She and Harry held a long and earnest conference, which ended only when Dixie realized that she had overstayed her lunch hour. She called Tormeon to tell him she would be late; and from that call, she gained news that she thought would interest Harry.

“Who do you think is up there?” questioned Dixie, breathlessly. “That gumshoe Joe Cardona! Tormeon says it looks like he’s going to stick there all afternoon.”

“No wonder,” smiled Harry. “Cardona thinks that Tormeon is in back of that bridge proposition.”

For a moment, Dixie showed a flicker of expression that Harry had waited to see. Without knowing it, she registered doubt in Tormeon. Then, tightening her lips, the girl smiled.

“We’ll see what happens,” she promised. “Whatever I find out, you’ll know it. I’ll call you later.”

WHILE all Manhattan waited during that balmy, lingering afternoon. events were shaping themselves beside the old Stuyvesant Bridge, miles north of the city.

Commissioner Weston had posted his car upon a roadway leading from a hill brow down to the level of the old bridge, which spanned the gorge at an altitude of about one hundred feet.

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