BEHIND THE DOOR
THE Club Catalina was traveling full blast when Police Chief Yates entered the popular night club. Located on the first floor of a large building, the club was the logical place for board-walk amusement-seekers.
Chief Yates paused and looked over the large room, with its broad dance floor. It was a gorgeously furnished cabaret, with hundreds of tables about the sides. The single vaulted room was fitted with three imposing pillars set in the center of the floor to support the high ceiling.
His brief inspection ended, Yates turned toward a stairway at one end of the room. His thoughts were working slowly, and his usual alert eye did not notice the shadowy shape that moved up the stairs ahead of him. Treading the thick carpet, Yates was speculative.
Carpeted stairs meant that visitors were expected up here. Yet there was no influx of customers. Yates was doubtful. He knew the signs of a hideout, from the ground floor up.
At the head of the turning stairs, Yates encountered a closed door. He turned the knob. The door opened, and the police chief strode into a small room with a door on the other side. The second door also yielded to his touch.
The room which Yates now entered was rather large and square. It had two doors in adjacent sides. These were open, betraying the plan of the floor — four rooms, each part of a large square.
The first of these rooms — the one in which Yates now stood — was peopled with a dozen persons, who were playing bridge at card tables. There were others standing about the room. Yates recognized one man as a detective stationed on the premises.
None of the card players were gambling; at least there was no money in view. So far as Yates was concerned, that constituted legitimate play. While the police chief still gazed at the scene, some one approached him, and he heard the welcoming voice of Big Tom Bagshawe.
“Good evening, chief,” said Bagshawe in a friendly tone. “Glad to see you. How do you like my place? If the Club Catalina keeps on increasing business, we’ll have the overflow up here.”
“It looks very good,” observed Yates gruffly. “Plenty of space up here.”
“Let me show you the rest of it,” suggested Big Tom. He led Yates into the adjoining room. Here were excellent furnishings — bulky tables, many chairs, three pianos against the wall. Big Tom continued the circuit, through the third room, and into the fourth. Here he stopped and pointed to a door in the inner wall.
“My office,” he remarked. “Come in and have a cigar.”
The room proved to be a windowless affair. It was set in the exact center of the large square floor, using a portion of each of the four rooms which surrounded it. Big Tom sat at a heavy, flat-topped desk in the middle of the room. He brought out a box of imported perfectos. Chief Yates laid aside the remains of the cigar which he had received from Mayor Cruikshank, and took one of Big Tom’s smokes.
“Nice little office, eh?” inquired Big Tom.
“Very nice,” answered Yates. “Nice lot of rooms up here, too. Too nice for the overflow of a night club, unless—”
Big Tom smiled.
“Say it, chief,” he suggested.
“Well, gambling is your business,” responded Yates. “Maybe you think business is good at Seaview City.”
“What if I do?” smiled Big Tom Bagshawe.
“You’ll find it isn’t so good!” replied the police chief. “Listen, Bagshawe. The less trouble there is between you and me, the better we’ll both like it. Seaview City is a good-time spot, but it isn’t wide open, and it isn’t going to be. You’ve got a nice business downstairs. Keep the business down there.”
“Thanks, chief,” declared Big Tom slowly. “I think your advice is probably good.”
“It is good,” asserted Yates. “I’ve had some complaints in the past few weeks, and I came in here to look around. Maybe things have been exaggerated. I’m willing to give you a break. But take my tip and forget any ideas of a big-time gambling joint.
“If you want a quiet game — well, this is a pleasure resort, after all. But nothing big. Otherwise, there’ll be trouble.”
With this statement of policy, Chief Yates arose and left the office. Big Tom accompanied him to the door. They reached the anteroom, and Yates went downstairs.
Outside the Club Catalina, the police chief encountered the detective whom he had seen upstairs.
“What’s up, chief?” the man asked.
“Nothing, Parker,” retorted Yates. “I just dropped in to see that everything was all right, and that you were on the job.”
“Leave it to me, chief,” responded Parker. “I’m watching this place like a hawk.”
YATES felt satisfied when he left. He had been doubtful about Parker, but now he had full confidence in the man.
This surprise visit had been well timed. There had been nothing to excite suspicion. Even the doors upstairs had been unlocked. Chief Yates went on his way, convinced that the Club Catalina harbored no illegitimate enterprises.
Parker went back up the stairs. He was met by an attendant the moment that he arrived in the anteroom.
“O.K.,” said Parker.
The lock of the outer door clicked. The detective went into the bridge room and whispered the same message to another attendant. The second door clicked.
Big Tom Bagshawe, standing at one of the farther doors, made a short announcement. The bridge players, men and women, rose laughing from the tables and flocked into the other rooms.
Attendants were at work. The massive tables were opened to display roulette wheels. Others revealed faro layouts. The pianos against one wall proved to be mere dummy shells as they were rolled away. Behind them were gambling machines, built for a half-dollar slot play.
Word traveled rapidly downstairs. Privileged persons, seated in the Club Catalina, were secretly informed that the Goddess of Chance was again the ruling power in the establishment upstairs. A horde of eager visitors strode up the carpeted steps. Within fifteen minutes, money was clicking on the tables as more than fifty players staked their sums.
Moving here and there, Big Tom Bagshawe studied the faces of the visitors. He paused in a corner, to speak in an undertone to Parker, the detective. All was going well. Satisfied that there was not a suspicious person present, Big Tom went into his office.
It was a strange fact that during all his shrewd observations, the gambling king had seen no trace of the mysterious shadow that had preceded Chief Yates up the stairs. That shadow had not departed when the chief left. The steps from the Club Catalina were the only way for visitors to come and go.
Not having seen the black splotch that signified the presence of a living being, Big Tom did not notice the long streak of darkness that lay across the floor of his office, encroaching upon the edge of the desk. That shadow came from beside the open door of a wall cabinet.
There was no reason why Big Tom should suspect that a stranger had entered, for he had locked the door of the office when he and Chief Yates had departed. Perhaps Big Tom placed too much faith in locks. He was turning one now — the lock on his desk. It was a peculiar lock, set above the drawer, which also had a lock.
Big Tom pocketed his keys. He glanced at his watch and hurriedly arose from the desk. He turned out the light, went out of the room, and locked the door behind him.
Now, from a secluded spot, the gambler kept careful observation. He counted certain men as they entered by the outer door. One was Hooks Borglund; the second was Shifter Reeves. After a few minutes, Herbert Carpenter appeared.
Big Tom walked across the floor and opened the door of the office, glancing approvingly at his watch as he did so. Inside the room, he did not turn on the light. Instead, he sat in a chair that he found near the corner.
The door of the office opened softly, and another man came in. He was followed by others. When the door closed for the last time, the four kings were inside.
“All here?”
The gruff question came from the chair at the desk. It was the voice of Wheels Bryant, sovereign of this organization of crime!
Responses showed that all were present. The hidden leader began to talk in his usual domineering tone.
“THE Public Safety Committee met again, tonight,” he said. “Chief Yates is squawking. Says there’s dope around town. Worried about the coppers who have disappeared. Remember that, Shifter!”
“We had to bump them,” responded Reeves. “Two of them butted into the works out on the end of the pier. We took them out the way the stuff came in. That’s all. The third guy was a wisenheimer. Said he was going to blow the works. Found out plenty through dumb luck, just snooping around. One of the mob got him.”
“The body?”
“Went out with some boating supplies for storage. Sent it away, like the others.”
“Be careful in the future,” said Wheels. “Lay off killings if you can. Yates also squawked about Big Tom’s place, here.”
“He was in tonight,” laughed the gambler. “I’ve been expecting him. You told me to watch out, and I did, Wheels. He went away happy.”
“You are keeping the detectives greased?”
“Sure thing. Parker and Bass are the ones that hang around here. Guess Yates thinks I don’t know who they are. I know how to handle those fellows!”
“Run heavy from now on,” ordered Wheels. “Yates won’t bother you for a while. As for you, Shifter, keep easy. The dope’s moving fast; don’t try to speed it up.
“We’re all set for some big gravy, now. We’re counting on you, Carpenter. You’ve turned in half a dozen neat jobs; with Big Tom running heavy, you ought to land plenty. How about it?”
“I’m set for four,” returned Carpenter, in a smooth tone. “I can clean them up this week if you say the word.”
“Go to it. How much do you figure they’re worth?”
“Two hundred thousand, altogether — maybe more.”
“Two hundred grand!”
The exclamation came from Shifter Reeves. The speaker was silenced by a warning word from Wheels Bryant.
“You’re sure of that?” quizzed the ace.
“Reasonably sure,” asserted Carpenter calmly. “I’m landing the big one first — to-morrow night. Starting from here, I intend to wind up at the Hotel Pavilion.”
“Good work,” commended Wheels. “You’re playing careful aren’t you?”
“I am,” returned Carpenter. “I pass as a most desirable resident of Seaview City. I have a very attractive cottage near the beach. My wife and three children are living there. I go home every night — except when there is special work to do — as there will be to-morrow.”
The pause that followed was broken by Hooks Borglund. Evidently the fourth king was annoyed because of his own inactivity. His voice showed that he was desirous of maintaining his prestige.
“What about me?” he asked. “I’m ready — when you say the word. I can deliver plenty—”
“Not yet,” interrupted Wheels. “Keep on cooperating; that’s enough right now. Your chance comes later, after we hit a snag. You’d better drop Shifter for a while, Hooks. Stick around the hotel to-morrow night — and the rest of the week. Be there in case Carpenter needs you.”
“O.K.,” responded Hooks.
“If Carpenter comes through,” declared Wheels, “we’ll be a half million ahead at the end of this week. That’s counting on Big Tom and Shifter to keep on pumping. There’s two full months ahead, and the big pay-off will be in the middle of September, when the beauty pageant is staged.”
“We’ve paid expenses, and the profits are starting. I’m figuring on six million by the end of this season; a million each for you fellows; two for myself. Fair?”
“Sure thing,” came agreeing voices.
“The little cops are greased,” continued Wheels. “They’ll stay that way. As I figure it — from the inside — there’s not going to be any changes in the city system. That makes it all jake. With the mobsters working cheap, we’re all set.
“I had a hunch some wise bird might butt in and make trouble, but I’m not worried now. Tomorrow is the big day — the beginning of the real money.”
A match flickered, but it did not reveal a face. The pungent aroma of cigar smoke floated through the room. It reminded the gathered men of that other night, when Wheels Bryant had smoked in the dark. Evidently Wheels favored a particular brand of cigars.
“Any questions?”
There was no response to the inquiry from Wheels. All the masters of crime were satisfied with present instructions.
“Big game!” said the leader, in a low growl. “Big money! That goes for all of us. I picked the crowd of you, because I knew you could deliver. Stick with it. Carpenter has the floor to-morrow. Watch him come through. That’s all.”
One by one, the men left the room. Big Tom Bagshawe was the last of the four kings to depart. Only Wheels Bryant remained. The light of his cigar glowed and moved slowly up and down; then it was extinguished in an ash tray. The ace had gone.
THERE was a movement in the room, during which a slight knocking sound could have been heard. Silence followed. At last, the switch clicked by the wall.
In the light that filled the room, a person stood alone. Tall, sinister, and unearthly, this being was a weird presence. Clad in black cloak, his features hidden by a broad-brimmed slouch hat, he seemed to be viewing the places where the gathered crime masters had located themselves during their brief conference.
A soft laugh came from unseen lips. It was the laugh of The Shadow. Unobserved, the master of the dark had come to this place. A silent witness, he had attended the meeting of the men who plotted evil.
Even the long hands were gloved in black. Only two eyes betokened the presence of the personage within those all-concealing garments. Burning eyes they were — eyes that sensed some meaning in everything they saw.
The black cloak swished as the awesome apparition moved to the center of the room, and stopped by the huge desk. There, black fingers lifted the half-smoked cigar that lay in an ash tray, and then replaced the partly consumed perfecto.
A whispered laugh came from beneath the broad-brimmed hat. The Shadow moved past the desk, and seated himself in the chair — the very spot that Wheels Bryant had chosen. He placed his hands upon the edge of the desk.
There was a slight noise at the door. With a rapid movement, The Shadow swung away from the desk, and stretched his tall form in the narrow crevice behind the open door of the cabinet at the side of the room. The outer door opened, and Big Tom Bagshawe entered.
The gambler looked surprised when he saw the light. He surveyed the room suspiciously, but his glance passed over the unmoving stretch of black that came from beside the cabinet door.
Then Big Tom nodded as though he understood. He left this room dark; but Wheels Bryant had remained. Evidently the big shot had turned on the light before departing.
Big Tom went to the desk and turned the lock. He helped himself to a cigar from the humidor on the desk, and went out extinguishing the light as he departed.
There was a swish in the dark. A soft clicking came from the desk. Then followed a succession of almost indistinguishable sounds.
When Big Tom Bagshawe returned to the office a short while later, the light that he turned on revealed no shadow on the floor.
This time, the room was entirely empty. But Big Tom, when he sat at the desk, appeared surprised. Once again, he pulled his keys from his pocket and locked the desk.
Puzzlement showed on his puffy face. He walked about the room and closed the open door of the cabinet. Then, with a shrug of his shoulders, he went back into the gambling rooms.
Big Tom Bagshawe was not the man to worry about trivial matters. He was absent-minded at times. Where he suspected nothing, he looked for nothing.
He, alone of the five plotters, might have divined that an unknown personage had been here tonight. But Big Tom did not suspect that The Shadow had come and gone!