The Shadow - 311 - Death Stalks the U.N. by Maxwell Grant

Author:Maxwell Grant
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Street & Smith
Published: 1946-12-31T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER VIII

SHREVVIE’S cab ordinarily occupied by but one passenger was carrying two tonight. Harry Vincent and The Shadow. A pleased smile was on Vincent’s face. He had seen The Shadow look at the papers which had been the prize in that strange fight.

“I don’t think I have ever,” said Vincent, “wandered around in such a blind fog. How did you know that there would be fireworks out at the site of the old World’s Fair?”

“It was a combination of rather strange things. There was the bloody symbol that Yerkes left, that symbol which might have been the Molvannian symbol, but was instead, his crude, dying attempt to leave us a clue to the Fair grounds. You see what he really tried to draw was the trylon and perisphere which was the sign of the Fair, if you remember. In death, he was too far gone to draw it properly.”

“Oh sure. It was a globe and a sort of skinny triangle-shaped pyramid. But how could you have crystal-balled that?”

“I couldn’t have, not just by itself. But there was other evidence. Dom Brassle’s dying words… ‘The world is fair…’ He didn’t say that. He said, ‘World’s Fair.’ Then, ‘Time… cap.’… He was trying, gasping his life out in the attempt, to say the Time Capsule!”

“Whew…” Vincent whistled.

“The way a thing can be interpreted in a variety of ways…”

“Dom Brassle was the victim of an attempted killing just before he got to the U.N. headquarters. I found that out since then. They didn’t want to kill him in the circumstances that they did. It was forced on them when he escaped the earlier ambush. They had to kill him before he could tell the world about the contents of the Time Capsule buried away out in the Flushing Meadow.”

“Then he was never trying to say that Captain Derry was his killer?”

“He was too big a man to worry about who the individual was that had shot him. All he was concerned with was trying to let us know about the evidence…”

The cab came to a stop at a red light. The Shadow looked out at the street sign. “You go on with Shrevvie, Harry. I still have some work to do.”

Before Vincent could do more than nod, the door of the cab had opened and closed. A sinuous writhing of darkness near a building and that was all that either of The Shadow’s agents saw of him that night.

Captain Derry sat behind a table that was shaped in the odd form of an amoeba. It was the functional design beloved of modern decorators. His eyes were cold as he listened to the report of a mission that had failed. He stirred the muddler in his drink and the ice cubes which rattled in the glass were no colder than his expression. He was tight inside. His insides were so tight that he felt if he didn’t move something would break. He picked the muddler up out of his drink and snapped it between his strong fingers.

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