MURDERERS PLOT
“Tonight’s the night, Briggs!”
“So that’s what the Boss told you, eh, Bob?”
The two men who were talking sat in that same study that had once belonged to Theodore Galvin.
One of them was the young man who called himself Bob Galvin. The other was a big, powerful fellow, who was dressed in the quiet clothes of a servitor — almost the identical garb that Hodgson had been wont to wear.
“Yeah,” said young Bob decisively. “We’re going to make a stab at it tonight. At least, you and Clink are. I’m going to stay right here.
“As soon as Clink comes in, you and he go to meet the Chief. Get your final instructions from him.”
The big man nodded. His iron-jawed face was sullen. His eyes gleamed with a murderous look.
Bob Galvin saw that look, and a sordid grin appeared upon his face. The young man’s expression became one of brutality.
“After tonight,” remarked Briggs suddenly. “What then?”
“If things go right,” returned his companion, “it will be all jake. If they don’t, we’ll have to play the game like we figured it.
“You’ll be Briggs — Briggs, the butler, or whatever we call you — the guy I hired because old Hodgson was getting feeble.”
“He wasn’t so feeble three nights ago,” retorted Briggs.
“You’re right,” said Bob. “But people don’t know that. The girl is the only one we’ve got to bluff. I sent Hodgson off on a long vacation, that’s all. Thought he needed it. Big-hearted stuff, you know.”
“Briggs, the butler,” said the big man with a grin. “Well, Briggs is a good name and it happens to be my own.
“That makes it easy. No slip-ups. Briggs is my name, just like yours is Bob. Bob—”
“Galvin,” interrupted the young man at the desk. “Remember that part of it. No slip-ups there. Understand?”
BRIGGS nodded. He looked around the room, the grin still on his face.
“We’ve both done our bit in this place,” he said, “eh, Bob? I started it when I did away with Barker. Tried to double-cross us, the rat. Then you fixed this guy, Hodgson, when he tried to interfere. You acted kind of quick when you did that—”
“No quicker than you,” interposed Bob. “I guess there was only one way to handle Barker. But it would have been good if you had made him talk before he went out. He may have known some things we don’t know.”
“Couldn’t help it,” said Briggs sullenly. “He could scrap, that guy. So I didn’t give him a chance. Say” — he turned the conversation suddenly — “when’s the girl coming back?”
“To-morrow,” was the quick answer. “That’s why we’ve got to be ready to play the game. Remember, you call me ‘sir’ or ‘Mr. Galvin’. Got that straight?”
“Sure enough. And she’s Miss Betty. But, listen” — Briggs spoke seriously — “what do you think, now, about that time she came in here. Do you really think she saw—”
“The Chief has figured it out,” interrupted Bob. “She may have been imagining things. If that’s the case, it doesn’t mean anything.
“But if she really saw some one, it’s probable that it was — well, you know who.”
“The Shadow!”
“Yes.”
Briggs shook his head doubtfully.
“He’s a tough guy to buck, Bob,” he said. “I reckon the Boss can do it. He’s a smart bird.
“But The Shadow ain’t no softy himself. He’s spoiled a lot of good lays for a lot of clever guys. He might not get at us — but he’s liable to cause a mix-up.”
“The Chief has doped it, Briggs,” said Bob, impatiently, as though he did not relish the conversation. “You know what The Shadow does — he looks in on a lot of jobs that the police have slipped up on. That’s his game, isn’t it?”
“So I’ve heard.”
“Well, figure it like the Chief does, then. This Barker proposition was passed up by the cops. They got nowhere with it. So The Shadow decided to look.
“But before he does, I’m in here! Bob Galvin, I am, come into my own. The girl’s O.K. - so’s old Hodgson. It’s not any person The Shadow’s after — it’s the scene of the crime.”
“That sounds O.K.”
“ALL RIGHT,” continued Bob. “He snoops in to look for a clew. He doesn’t find any. Why? Because you covered up; and the Chief and I checked up after you.
“Reynold Barker wasn’t hooked up with us regular. His name can’t mean anything, even if The Shadow has found it out. So he missed when he came after a clew. The girl helped, by walking in on him.
“He’s laid off this place now. Maybe he’s trying somewhere else — maybe he’s quit.”
“The Boss is a smart guy, to dope it that way,” declared Briggs, in a relieved tone.
“Call him Chief,” advised Bob. “He likes that better.”
“The Chief, then.”
“Besides,” added Bob, “we’re safe on old Hodgson’s account. We got away with his body without any trouble. Had plenty of time to do it. It fixed every thing for us, because it put you in here — and let us ring in Clink, too.
“Don’t forget that Clink’s been watching in this room every night. He’s seen nothing of The Shadow.”
“Going to keep Clink on the job, if we have to stay a while longer?”
“No!” exclaimed Bob. “It’s all right for him to drop in late at night, while we’re alone. But not with the girl here!
“How would we figure him in this place? That mug of his is all right behind a mask or under the front of a big cap. But if he ever had to show it—”
“You’re right,” admitted Briggs sheepishly. “He’s a good guy, Clink is, but he looks bad.”
“He doesn’t belong here, that’s a bet,” Bob added. “You’re all right, Briggs. As good as the average servant, I guess. But Clink — well, he’s out; that’s all.”
“I hope The Shadow is out,” observed Briggs.
“He is, all right,” said Bob, “but we’re playing it safe. That’s why you and Clink have the job tonight. The Chief and I are laying low.
“We’re playing a safe game, all right. Every one knows that old Galvin’s estate is blooey. No chance of anybody working a phony game like mine just to grab off this joint and a cheesy old country house.
“Old man Galvin sure fooled them! Came near fooling us, too! It took the Chief to get wise to him.”
There was a ring of the doorbell. Briggs grinned as he arose to answer it. He returned shortly with the visitor — a man with a dark overcoat, his chin concealed behind its collar. He also wore a cap with the visor over his eyes.
It was the man who had walked out with Bob Galvin, the night before Hodgson had begun to suspect his new master. The man entered the room with the air of a familiar visitor.
“Hello, Clink,” said Bob.
“Hello,” came the gruff reply. “Same old gag tonight? Stay up and watch?”
“Not tonight,” was the reply. “You and Briggs have a job. A big one. We’ve been waiting for you. Both of you go down to see the Chief, right away.”
Big Briggs was putting on his hat and coat.
“The Chief will tell you everything,” declared Bob. “Get going and do the job right!”
WHEN the men were gone, Bob sat alone, smiling. There was a piece of paper on the desk. Upon it, he drew certain marks, then rubbed them out. He wrote the letter S twice; then erased the letters.
He picked up the telephone book and looked under H. He came to the name Richard Harkness. He repeated the number to himself and closed the book. He glanced at his watch.
“Ten o’clock,” he said softly. “That will be just right — unless I hear to the contrary before that. It looks good tonight.
“Smart of the Chief, figuring that code meant a name. Very, very smart. I didn’t figure it.
“The whole thing fits in with what we’re after. That’s the best part of it. If Harkness doesn’t know — well—”
He paused speculatively. He was remembering a conversation that he had held earlier in the day. This was the first guess tonight — and it appeared to be the best one.
“If we miss this time,” observed Bob, “we’re only started. You can’t beat the Chief. He figured old Galvin’s game before. He’ll get it right again.”
With that, Bob picked up a book and leaned back in his chair. As an afterthought, he placed his watch upon the table.
He leaned back again and began to read, calmly and with apparent interest. At times, he stopped to glance at the watch; and on each occasion, a brutal smile flickered on his lips.
Ten o’clock was approaching. Some dastardly scheme would reach its culmination then. The young man with the evil leer was awaiting the zero hour for tonight’s crime.