Shadow 192 - Voice of Death 02-15-40, The by Maxwell Grant

Author:Maxwell Grant [Grant, Maxwell]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Street and Smith
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

THROUGH the doorway, The Shadow groped ahead; his fingertips contacted a chair, then a long table. The Shadow’s probe was noiseless; nevertheless, a flashlight suddenly moved in his direction. Before its owner could spy the cloaked invader, The Shadow crouched between the chair and table.

The light swung to the side wall, brought an ebony glisten from the black front of the big safe. Then the glow centered on the chromium-plated dial.

There was cool calculation in that survey; the sort of deliberate procedure that characterized Ted Lycombe, when he wasn’t in a headstrong mood. Remembering Ted’s statement that he was “ready for anything,” The Shadow did not find it difficult to visualize Ted as the man behind that light.

But guesswork was not proof. The Shadow wanted visual evidence, of an absolute sort, before identifying any criminal.

The light turned downward. It showed a battered felt hat, inverted on the floor. In the hat lay a handkerchief, knotted to form a mask. A hand plucked the handkerchief from the hat; the light remained steady for a scant second longer.

In that brief interval, The Shadow saw something that the sharp glare revealed; a detail that would not have been noticeable in ordinary light.

The hat had once contained initials, pasted inside the top. Those letters had been removed. but their outline still remained, in light-brown against dark. In his brief glimpse, The Shadow saw the traces of the letters “E.J.L.” As with the cigarette case dropped at Barstead’s, they identified Ted Lycombe as the owner of the hat.

Then the light was gone. A crinkly sound came from the darkness, caused by something other than the soft handkerchief mask. The thing was explained when the light appeared again; this time, the flash propped against the hat, so that the rays were directed up to the safe front.

Into the glowing circle came hands that were fully visible, yet clouded by a thin, filmy substance that gave them a yellowed hue. As he watched deft fingers turn the combination, The Shadow heard a repetition of the crinkle.

Whatever evidence the law might gain to pin this present crime upon Ted Lycombe, The Shadow knew that no fingerprints would be found upon the safe dial.

The hands from the dark were wearing cellophane gloves!

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