The Shadow - 301 - Mother Goose Murders by Maxwell Grant

Author:Maxwell Grant [Grant, Maxwell]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Street & Smith
Published: 1946-02-28T23:00:00+00:00

XI

IT was too late now to reach Rutledge Mann at his office with a phone call

but there was another number that Diane had been given in case of emergency.

In

this emergency she couldn’t remember the number to save her.

While Diane tried to recall it, the phone bell rang. Knowing that Cranston

was to call her, Diane hurriedly folded the Black Sheep message, tucked it in a

new purse that she’d bought that afternoon, and grabbed for the telephone.

It wasn’t Lamont Cranston.

Instead, Diane heard the unexpected voice of Rex Cardiff!

“Hello, beautiful,” bantered Cardiff, a bit thickly. “I got your message.”

“My - my message?”

“Sure. Don’t worry.” Cardiff spoke with a consoling note. “I can fix everything. I’ll be right over.”

“But I was going out.”

“Then don’t. Just wait ten minutes. I have to talk to you.”

When Cardiff ended the call, Diane didn’t wait one minute. Instead, she opened the door while putting on her hat, flicked off the lights, and hurried to the elevator, carrying her precious new purse with her. When she reached the

lobby, Diane ignored the front door. Outside, a cab would be waiting, piloted by

a chap called Shrevvy, the same cabby who had brought Diane here from Quade’s that first night.

But with all her trust for anyone who shared The Shadow’s confidence, Diane couldn’t take a chance on going out the front way for fear Cardiff would arrive too soon. Avoiding the bright lobby, Diane sped out through a dark side passage past the telephone booths, to another street, where she was fortunate to find a cab parked.

Good fortune ended as Diane landed in the cab. Another voice told the driver where to go. A powerful hand kept Diane from climbing out the door, while another hand suppressed her outcry.

The voice was Cardiff’s and as Diane heard its short laugh, she subsided.

Cardiff’s smothering hand relaxed and Diane spoke glumly:

“All right, take me to the police.”

“To the police?” Cardiff laughed again, more pleasantly. “Nothing could be

farther from my mind. I knew you would think that was my intention, so I had to

use subterfuge to meet you. I guessed you would scurry out the moment that I called.”

“But who gave you my number in the first place?”

“You did.” Cardiff wore one of those smiles of his and held it. “Or didn’t

you?”

Diane shook her head, emphatically.

“There was a message for me at the Metrolite,” stated Cardiff. “That’s where I’m stopping now, like the other important people. You’ll find out why when we arrive there. But that message - you didn’t send it?”

Another head-shake from Diane.

“I wasn’t sure,” Cardiff admitted. He was eying Diane’s new hand bag as he

spoke. “That’s why I took precautions in case you ducked out of the Everest.

But

if you didn’t, who did?”

Maybe it was the direction of Cardiff’s eyes; perhaps Diane just had a flash of intuition. She turned, met Cardiff’s gaze with blazing eyes and stormed:

“Whoever took my hand bag found out where I was! I had a receipt in it from the Hotel Everest, with my room number!”

Cardiff kept that smile of his, as if still wondering whether or not to believe Diane.

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