The Shadow 074 by Maxwell Grant

Author:Maxwell Grant
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

VANDROW sat down at the telephone table and called a number. Then he began a conversation, of which Milton Claverly and Harry Vincent heard but half.

There was another listener, also. Lester had appeared; he was standing by the opened door.

“Hello…” Vandrow began to speak to someone. “Is that you, Mr. Zangwald?… Yes, this is Louis Vandrow. Yes, I’ll be there to talk with you and the sheriff… The coroner, too… Any new developments?… What’s that? Why, I thought he was staying in his house, under guard…

“Business in New York, you say… A long distance call early in the evening… Well, I guess that’s a good idea… Yes, that big limousine of Beauchamp’s can travel fast. Well, it’s best for him to get out of town… Certainly… Yes, I’ll talk to you when I reach your home.

The lawyer hung up the receiver; he arose from the table. Lester entered, bringing his hat and coat. It was then that Milton Claverly inserted a suave remark.

“You mentioned Willis Beauchamp,” stated the young man. “Did you say something about him leaving town?”

“Yes,” replied Vandrow. “Zangwald tells me that he received a long distance call from New York. He called Zangwald after that, to inform him that he was leaving the house.”

“When?”

“Beauchamp expects to leave just before midnight. He will enter his garage and step into his limousine. Then his chauffeur will drive him over to Lewisport, on the B & R Railroad. Some of the sheriff’s men will follow. So Beauchamp will be well enough protected.”

“I’m glad he’s getting out of town,” decided Milton. “Well, I’m turning in. I guess you’ll want to do the same, Vincent. If the bells ring, old man, be sure to wake me.”

Milton accompanied Vandrow to the door. Then he and Harry went upstairs and entered their rooms. The two apartments were at different ends of a long hall.

Downstairs, Lester was standing by the front door. His eyes were glaring. He, too, had heard the announcement of Beauchamp’s departure. The servant’s fists were clenched. His face glowered as his cracked lips twitched.

Then, in methodical fashion, the servant crossed the hall and extinguished the lights. He moved slowly up the stairs to the second floor; his footsteps creaked as he took another flight of steps to the third.

Harry Vincent, lying in his bed, could hear the old servant moving on the floor above. Then came silence. The mansion, like the tower on the hill, was hushed amid the quietude of night.

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