Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 242 by Maxwel l Grant

Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 242 by Maxwel l Grant

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


CHAPTER XII. STRANGE TRAILS

CHET PARRIDGE was slouched on the big sofa toying with the dials of the fancy radio, while Ken Blandon, seated by a table, kept strumming nervously with his knuckles. Finding the music that he wanted, Chet turned an annoyed glance in Ken's direction.

"If you have to bang away, Ken," remarked Chet, "do it in time with the music. This happens to be good music."

"And it happens to be my apartment," retorted Ken. "Have you forgotten?"

"Hardly." Chet gave a droll smile. "I've been too frequent a visitor. The other night, for instance -"

"Don't talk about the other night!" Ken's interruption was hasty and excited. "Do you know what Madeline was doing after you left here? She was making the rounds of the night spots, checking on your alibi."

"On our alibi," corrected Chet. "You're in this as deep as I am, Ken, so turn off that radio and let's talk sense."

Chet's idea of sense was quite simple. He felt sure the alibi would stand; that Madeline

would finally believe that he had been too drunk, the other night, to go to Albury's studio. The friends who came to take Chet away had accepted Ken's claim that Chet had been drinking since early in the evening.

He calmed Ken's qualms by agreeing that if the alibi wavered, it would be good policy to take an unexpected trip from New York. Such would hardly excite additional suspicion, since both Chet and Ken were in the habit of going to such places as Saratoga or Miami during racing seasons, and sometimes were wont to wander farther afield.

"Albury is dead," stated Chet, in a matter-of-fact tone, "and some dopes that X steered to his studio are taking the blame for it, instead of me or us. Albury walked right in while I was waiting for him, the way X said he would.

"He took what I had ready, and I took what I wanted: Albury's plans. Albury himself wasn't worth a nickel, but those plans of his are good for plenty. I'll show you why, Ken."

Chet was reaching into his pocket, which still carried the plans in question. He stopped when he saw Ken at the radio, reaching down to pull the floor plug.

"What's the idea, Ken?"

"The thing buzzes," Ken replied. "It makes me nervous."

"Leave it plugged in," ordered Chet. "We may pick up some news reports. Take a look at this."

The paper that Chet brought from his inside pocket wasn't one of Albury's plans. It was a typewritten note that bore the X signature. Chet tapped it as he showed it to Ken.

"We're going to cash in," Chet stated, "because X says so. There's an old gent named Caleb Yetter that nobody knows much about, except that he's worth scads. According to X, Yetter is a fence who handles big-time stuff.

"He'll pay us a couple of hundred grand for these plans of Albury's, and see that X gets a chunk besides. How Yetter handles the deal after that is his business, not ours. I'm going over to see Yetter at the time X states.



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