The Shadow - 169 - River of Death by Maxwell Grant

Author:Maxwell Grant
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Street & Smith
Published: 1939-02-28T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER VIII. THE FLOATING FOLLIES

LAMONT CRANSTON sat in a swanky motorboat that was cutting a path across the black silence of the upper Hudson River, a few miles above New York City. He was one of a half dozen other passengers. The boat was under the guidance of two smartly uniformed sailors in white-and-gold jackets.

The boat operated between a small jetty on the shore and the famous showboat anchored far out in the river. The showboat itself was still almost invisible, a vague blot on the dark water. But its electric sign, in huge neon letters, was like glowing flame:

NED TURNER’S

FLOATING FOLLIES

It was an old sailing vessel, a brigantine, that had been converted into a popular night spot. The aft deck had been turned into an open-air theater for people who didn’t mind paying high prices to see a colorful girl-and-music show from tables where only the best of liquor was served.

Lamont Cranston climbed the landing stairs to the deck. By shrewd use of his social prestige. The Shadow had wangled a personal invitation from Turner. Turner liked to have celebrities like Cranston at his table. It was excellent advertising for the show.

Pike, who surveyed most of the arriving guests, was standing at the head of the landing stairs. Cranston saw the bouncer the moment he stepped to the deck.

Just then a girl very beautiful in an evening gown like frothy silver came over. It was Ned Turner’s daughter, Edith. Cranston bowed and allowed her to conduct him aft.

At one end, a small stage was hidden by a lowered curtain. At the other, an orchestra was playing dance music. Couples were whirling expertly on the dance floor, most of the women noticeably younger than their escorts. It was that sort of crowd.

There was no sign of Ned Turner at the table to which Edith led Cranston.

“Dad will be along presently,” Edith said. Her smile seemed forced and nervous. “He’s usually busy before a show, as you can understand.”

Cranston saw that the table was set for four. But he made no comment about the extra chair. He let his polite glance pry an answer out of Edith.

“Mr. Hollister is going to be with us tonight. Roy Hollister. Perhaps you know him?”

“I haven’t had the pleasure,” Cranston said. “If you don’t object, I’d like the more immediate pleasure of dancing with you. May I?”

“Of course!”

As they danced. The Shadow let his gaze wander, in order to watch the people about the deck and observe what was going on. Edith was unaware of his roving eyes.

He saw Roy Hollister before the girl did. Hollister appeared from below deck, presumably from the bar.

But there was no blur of liquor in his eyes. They were clear and alert. They hardened at sight of Edith’s partner.

The moment the dance music stopped, Hollister stepped swiftly behind the girl and gently pinched the lobe of her ear. She turned, startled, then broke into a peal of shrill laughter.

“Roy! How you scared me!”

She introduced the two men. Cranston was conscious of alert eyes boring into him.

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