The Death Tower by Maxwell Grant & Walter Gibson

Author:Maxwell Grant & Walter Gibson [Grant, Maxwell & Gibson, Walter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Espionage, Fiction, Thrillers
Amazon: B004144HQY
Publisher: Street & Smith
Published: 1932-01-02T08:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XI. DEAD MEN DO NOT TELL

THE trap was laid. But even the man who had laid it could not foresee the outcome.

Gunner Macklin was acting in accordance with the instructions given him by Doctor Palermo. He was after big game to-night–game so big it appalled him. He did not even dare to mention the name of the man whom he sought to overcome. For Gunner feared The Shadow.

The gangster considered himself fortunate. In Louie Seligman he had a safe-cracker of the first water. Besides the man who was to puncture Hoetzel's strong box, Macklin had chosen four others.

"Bull" Goldman and "Carver" Brill were old reliables upon whom he could depend. With them were two Chicago gangsters, Artie Feldmann and Harry Boutonne.

Macklin smiled grimly as he drove uptown. He felt that he could rely upon any one of the four.

Macklin parked his car across the way from the Hoetzel house. A street light gave him a shadowy view of the building and the alley that led down the side. That was the way the men had gone.

Twelve o'clock had been the zero hour. Macklin had not arrived until five minutes later.

Macklin reached beside him and lifted a bottle. He swallowed a mouthful of liquor and steeled himself for what was to come.

The Hoetzel home was accessible only from the front or from the side. Palermo's plans had called for an entrance from the side. The four men had gone by that direction, with Seligman, the safe-cracker, in command.

Louie alone knew the method of disconnecting a very important wire that controlled the burglar alarm. Macklin had intrusted the man with that information.

The other four were lost in the blackness of the narrow alley, commanding the only approach–unless some one should reveal himself in front of the house. Any one who might enter that alley would go into the jaws of death.

The four men had been told to comb the alleyway, to make sure no one was hidden there. In leaving, they were to come in pairs. Seligman, should he be forced to flee alone, was to swing the bag which held his tools–and which, Macklin hoped, would later contain the swag.

The gunmen had been surprised at Macklin's insistence on these rules. They did not know that their chief intended to be on the scene, watching with hawklike eye from across the street. For they had been told nothing concerning The Shadow.

MACKLIN did not know how the men had stationed themselves. He tried to picture their positions, but failed in the attempt, even though he aided his imagination with another swallow of liquor.

He satisfied himself with the knowledge that there were four good guns all ready for any person who might creep down that alleyway. There could be only one who might enter. That was The Shadow. No other person could have business there.

The man in the car gripped the handle of his automatic. He realized that Doctor Palermo was a keen analyst. Macklin, obeying orders, was not here for any idle purpose.

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