The Circle of Death by Maxwell Grant & Walter Gibson

Author:Maxwell Grant & Walter Gibson [Grant, Maxwell & Gibson, Walter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Espionage, Fiction, Thrillers
ISBN: 9781608771271
Amazon: 160877127X
Publisher: Street & Smith
Published: 1934-03-15T08:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XIII. THE INTERLUDE

IT was late the next afternoon. A chubby-faced man was seated at a desk by a window high above Manhattan. He was busy with a stack of clippings that lay before him on his office desk. An interruption came in the form of a knock at the door.

"Come in," ordered the chubby-faced individual.

A stenographer entered, carrying a telegram. She laid the message upon the desk.

"This just arrived, Mr. Mann."

"Very well," replied the man at the desk. "It is getting late. We shall close the office at once."

As soon as the stenographer had departed to the outer office, the man at the desk tore open the telegram. It bore a terse message:

RUTLEDGE MANN

BADGER BUILDING

NEW YORK CITY

GOODS RECEIVED FROM ATLANTA INSURED FOR THREE THOUSAND UNDER

NEW RATING

HARRY VINCENT

The telegram was from Chicago. It was obvious that this was a message that Rutledge Mann had been expecting, for the chubby-faced fellow arose from his desk. He tucked the telegram in an envelope and sealed it.

Mann passed through the outer office, then through the door which bore his name and title of investment broker. These offices high in the Badger Building were where Mann conducted a regular business. They were also the headquarters for his work in the service of The Shadow.

Reaching the street, Mann summoned a cab and rode to Twenty-third Street. There he dismissed the taxi and entered an old, dilapidated building. He went up a pair of stairs and came to an obscure office. A grimy glass panel bore the name:

B. JONAS

Mann shoved the envelope in a letter slit. He paused and stared at the glass panel, then departed. This office was always a puzzle to Rutledge Mann. Its cobwebbed door had apparently been closed for months. Nevertheless, the office within must sometimes have an occupant - at least so Mann reasoned to himself.

For this was the spot where Mann placed messages for The Shadow. The investment broker visited the Twenty-third Street building on numerous occasions, and whenever he left billets there, he was sure that they would reach their appointed destination.

MORE than an hour after Rutledge Mann had gone to Twenty-third Street, a light clicked in The Shadow's sanctum. The envelope that Mann had placed in the mail chute fell upon the polished surface of The Shadow's table. Long fingers opened it to draw the telegram from within.

The Shadow inscribed words upon the telegram, in blue ink, between the typescript lines. They were the translation of the coded message:

Man starting to New York leaving at eleven o'clock via Michigan Central

Harry Vincent had been sent to Chicago, through wire dispatched by Rutledge Mann. His services no longer needed in South Shoreview, Harry's new task was to watch Channing Rightwood.

This information was all that The Shadow needed. He could learn the hour at which Rightwood's train would reach New York. From the moment that Rightwood arrived at the Grand Central Station, he would be under The Shadow's surveillance.

Rightwood would not arrive until tomorrow. That left freedom for tonight. Of the

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.