Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 072 by Maxwel l Grant

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

CHAPTER XIV. DARK DEATH STRIKES

CUYLER WELLINGTON was standing by the roulette table in the gambling room of the Club Cadiz.

The apparatus had been raised on its elevator, ready for the evening's play. That measure had been taken before the admission of the customers.

Even though he knew the secret of the device, Willington was unable to note the marks on the carpeting that indicated the edges of the elevator platform.

Smiling, he was pleased with the ingenuity of Nicky Donarth's contraption.

Tony Luggeto was operating the roulette wheel. His dark face suave, the man from Monte Carlo was eyeing Willington, constantly ready for the signal. Tony had fallen completely for Willington's story. He was sure that the device under the roulette wheel was meant to control the play.

Tony's eyelids flickered as he looked toward the outer door. Willington noted it, but did not turn. He was not surprised when a friendly hand clapped him on the back. He looked around to face the grinning, dusky countenance of Gyp Tangoli.

"Hello, Cuyler," greeted Gyp, in a low tone. "Where have you been, old man? Hardly ever see you nowadays."

Willington responded with a contemptuous grimace. He shrugged his shoulders and turned back to the play. Gyp edged beside him and spoke again.

"Don't know an old friend?" he asked, in a voice that was slightly gruff.

"I choose my associates," responded Willington, quietly. "You have the same privilege, Tangoli."

"I don't blame you," said Gyp, trying to honey his tone. "After me running a speak and handling a racket, I guess I'm not good enough for swell company. So long, old man."

With that, Gyp turned away from the roulette table. He went over to a corner, cashed in some money and received a batch of slugs. He began to play them in a slot machine.

Another flicker from Tony Luggeto's eyelids. This time the roulette operator's lips moved. They formed the name:

"Turk Berchler."

The second enemy had arrived. Willington gave a slight nod. He placed new money on the board and adjusted a cigarette in his holder while Tony was spinning the wheel.

"Having luck, Mr. Willington?" It was Nicky Donarth who asked the question.

Willington nodded as he turned to shake hands with the proprietor. Then Nicky spoke in an undertone.

"I saw that fellow talking to you," he said. "They call him Gyp Tangoli. Sort of a cheap racketeer who comes in here once in a while. I don't like him to be around."

"I don't blame you," returned Willington.

"I've been troubled by those fellows," added Nicky. "Not in a business way, you understand, but just because they want to mix with the regular clientele. I'd like to talk to you about it. A friend gave me a suggestion to get rid of them. I'd like your advice."

"Glad to give it, Nicky."

"Thanks. I've left my office open. Drop in there when you have a chance. I'd appreciate it."

"Very well."

Nicky walked away. Willington glanced toward Tony. He saw his spy's lips move. Tony was phrasing the words:

"Don't go."

WILLINGTON smiled slightly. He began to study the play about the table.

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