The Shadow 242 by Maxwell Grant

The Shadow 242 by Maxwell Grant

Author:Maxwell Grant
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00


WHILE the limousine was leaving with Madeline and Margo, Cranston summoned an approaching cab and told its driver to take him to the Cobalt Club.

The cab happened to be The Shadow’s own, driven by an agent named Moe Shrevnitz. It had trailed the limousine from the neighborhood of Albury’s studio. Moe and his cab were always in reserve when The Shadow needed them either as himself or Cranston.

Reaching the club, the calm-mannered Mr. Cranston was mildly surprised to learn the things that he had missed by not being with the police commissioner earlier. Commissioner Weston had returned there, bringing Professor Troy with him, and both were awaiting the return of Inspector Cardona.

“A most amazing thing, Cranston,” expressed Weston. “These new calculations of Troy’s pointed right to crime! I was going over them in detail when the tip-off came.”

Cranston’s eyebrows gave a quizzical rise.

“Inspector Cardona received the tip-off,” explained Weston. “I was so engrossed in these figures, that I didn’t realize that a call had come for me, so Professor Troy went up to answer it. Cardona told him that an anonymous phone call had come to headquarters, declaring that criminals intended to kidnap Rodney Albury from his studio.”

Professor Troy beamed a smile at Cranston.

“My figures indicated it,” declared Troy. “I’d worked them out in terms of dollars. According to latest reports, Albury and his plans were worth a million dollars. Therefore, I picked him as a target for crime.”

Cranston nodded; then turned to Weston and inquired casually:

“Did they try to kidnap Albury?”

“They did,” returned Weston gloomily. “They failed, so they murdered him instead.”

“And his plans?”

“Gone, judging by his empty brief case. Who the culprits were, we do not know.”

Professor Troy began to shake his head. The thing didn’t fit with his calculations. He reasoned that the Albury case showed two definite angles. Criminals of one type would have preferred to murder Albury quietly, take his plans and demand cash for them. Those of an opposite breed would value Albury, rather than the plans, and would therefore play the kidnap game, holding Albury for ransom.

“The tip-off spoke of kidnaping,” Troy reminded. “A leopard cannot change its spots; nor would criminals of the crude type change a set purpose. Kidnapers come under the head of crude criminals.”

“In my experience,” snapped Weston, “kidnapers have proven to be murderers. Very often, professor.”

“Never until they have first abducted their victim,” argued Troy. “Furthermore, there was a gun fray at Albury’s before we arrived there. It indicated a clash between two criminal factions.”

Before Troy could answer, Cardona arrived. He laid a report in front of Weston.

“Not much in it, commissioner,” admitted Cardona. “We found a couple of dead thugs up in Albury’s studio. Whether they shot each other in the dark, or took some bullets from The Shadow, we don’t know.”

Weston started to put a question, then stopped. It wasn’t his official policy to admit the existence of The Shadow. He’d overstepped the bounds the other night, because he had seen The Shadow on the scene at Bartier’s.



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