Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 140 by Maxwel l Grant

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

CHAPTER XIII

DIVIDED CRIMES

ALTHOUGH The Shadow had put a twist into Mart Kilgay's plans, the big-shot

benefited from his own mistake. Mart hadn't sent Dingo just to get the few thousand dollars' worth of swag in McCleer's safe. What Mart wanted was to stir

up excitement in Parkland; and Dingo's death did it.

Who shot Dingo was a mystery; but Dingo's purpose wasn't. The lead pipe that was on his body proved that he intended to slug the watchman and the jeweler. The fixed burglar alarm told that the way had been paved for Dingo's entry.

Crime had reared itself in Parkland, even though it had not struck. The town was startled, as Mart wanted it to be. It fitted his schemes for the next day; plans that Mart figured would be too much for The Shadow.

There were only two men to whom Mart confided, for he needed them both.

They were Ducky Murrick and Doc Arland, always accessible, for their offices were in the building. Even Brace Lurbin wasn't in on what was brewing; for it would have been bad policy for Brace to visit Mart's office, the way things stood.

It was half past six when Mart left his insurance office. He left a message at the barber shop and went to the Park Hotel, where he made a few telephone calls from a pay booth. At half past seven, Ducky closed his dress

shop and went out.

The only member of the racket ring who remained in the Knightson Building was Doc Arland. He had regular office hours in the evening. To-night, however, his appointment book was empty.

There was a side window that opened from a little room where Arland kept old equipment. While he waited, Arland looked from that window and grinned.

The telephone bell rang. Arland answered it; Mart was on the wire. Arland informed him that Ducky had gone out to the Club Cagliari, fifteen minutes'

drive from the center of town. Aloud, Arland repeated instructions that came from Mart:

"Half past eight? Sure, I'll tell Ducky. He's due to call... I get it.

Either one of us can hold things off if there's a hitch... Leave it to us, Mart..."

Arland thought he heard something when he hung up the receiver. He stole to the door of the office, peered toward the stairs. He watched a streak of blackness that lay along the dimly lighted hall. It worried him for a while; then Arland went back into the office. That was when the blackness disappeared.

Doc Arland's end of the telephone conversation had been heard by The Shadow.

DOWNSTAIRS, Brace Lurbin strolled into the barber shop, where the clock showed quarter of eight. He ran his fingers up the back of his neck, to show that he didn't need a hair trim.

"Just stopped in to say hello," he told the end barber. "What's new, Cholly?"

"Nothing much," replied the barber. "Except that a couple of good pinochle

players just came to town."

It was a message from Mart. The big-shot was cooking an alibi, and Brace was privileged to do the same. Brace started out, but Cholly stopped him.

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