The Shadow 249 Five Ivory Boxes by Maxwell Grant

Author:Maxwell Grant [Grant, Maxwell]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Street & Smith
Published: 1942-06-30T22:00:00+00:00

Just to top off all his blunders, Clyde had felled The Shadow, and their mutual foeman had taken the opportunity to escape. The slam of the outer door had marked a departure, not another arrival!

As The Shadow steadied on his feet, he looked at Clyde and gave a sibilant laugh. Wavering slightly, the cloaked fighter stepped forward and took the telephone, as though to measure the cord. Then Clyde saw the reason for the telephone’s recoil.

It had reached the end of its cord when it struck The Shadow, and that, to some extent, had lessened the force of the swing. Otherwise, Clyde might still be trying to revive his chief.

A whispered laugh issued from The Shadow’s hidden lips. It brought a voice from the receiver:

“Burbank speaking.”

The Shadow spoke in turn; his whisper was steady. Finishing with Burbank, he turned to Clyde, but kept the phone in hand because Burbank was standing by. Clyde picked up where he had left off.

“Trevose found a parcel check,” Clyde explained. He threw a quick look at the clock. “He’s halfway to Grand Central by this time, maybe farther.”

The Shadow gestured to a phone book, and ordered:

“Find Trevose’s number and address.”

Clyde looked, but without result. Trevose’s number was unlisted. Then came Burbank’s voice from the receiver, giving the needed information. Among other items, Burbank kept a handy index of unlisted phone numbers. Trevose’s address was on Park Avenue, in the Thirties. It was no farther from Glenlake’s office than it was from Grand Central.

The Shadow told Burbank to try Trevose’s number. There was a short wait while Burbank put in the call.

But he couldn’t get a reply.

Clyde couldn’t understand The Shadow’s purpose, until an odd fact dawned. It seemed that The Shadow wasn’t convinced that Clyde’s attacker was Trevose.

It must be that The Shadow was playing hunches. One hunch had brought him directly here from the Cobalt Club, and it had saved Clyde’s life, so it was little wonder that The Shadow was taking cognizance of another. In the dark, The Shadow hadn’t been able to identify Clyde’s attacker any more than had Clyde himself. Yet, there was logic in rejecting Trevose.

Not long ago, Wilbur Glenlake had fled, carrying a mysterious package, which had disappeared. Having located that package, Laird Trevose had set out to get it. Assuming that he hadn’t lingered long enough to hear Clyde dial the telephone, Trevose would still be on his way. In that case, Clyde’s attacker was another man.

Another man, inclined to murder. That viewpoint changed the status of Trevose, putting him somewhat in Glenlake’s class. Where lives were at stake, The Shadow was taking no more chances. Clyde heard the instructions that his chief gave to Burbank: namely, that Burbank was to put in a call to Inspector Cardona, a tip-off that would send the ace inspector straight to Trevose’s apartment.

Hanging up, The Shadow handed the telephone to Clyde and told him to call the Classic office, give his story, and then set out to Trevose’s apartment to learn the situation there.

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