THAT night, Doctor Palermo received a visitor in his apartment. The two men sat in the living room on the fortieth floor. The guest was a tall, powerful fellow. His face, from a short distance, seemed handsome. Closer view showed that it bore expressions of both brutality and cunning.
“So you missed your man again,” Doctor Palermo was saying. There was a subtle sarcasm in his voice.
“Yeah, we missed him,” replied the visitor. “Bugs Lakey went out to get him. Had a bead on him from an office across the way. But the guy wouldn’t open the window, and he couldn’t chance it through the glass, on account of the noise it would make.
“So Bugs laid for him in his office. He woulda got him there, but some other guy waded in and knocked Bugs cold.”
“Very unfortunate,” commented Palermo. His voice carried a tone of sarcasm and disgust.
“Not as bad as it mighta been,” was the retort. “Jerry Marcus got the works that night he had Burke in the taxicab. Guess it was the same guy that poked Bugs Lakey in the jaw—”
“That’s immaterial, Macklin,” said Palermo. “The point is this. I’ve paid you pretty well, haven’t I?”
“Yeah.”
“Even when I had to go out of my way to get the money,” added Palermo smoothly. “All I have asked is that you provide good men, who could do the jobs assigned them. Only in one instance have I ordered you to do a job yourself.”
“I did it, didn’t I?” retorted Macklin. “Nobody ever wised up that Harriman wasn’t a suicide. I didn’t get that jewel you wanted. Harriman didn’t have it on him.
“You figured that maybe he had given it to that guy Horace Chatham, and I had a couple of men trailing Chatham, until he bumped off Wilkinson and disappeared.”
“Quite right,” agreed Palermo. “We have dropped Chatham, now. He didn’t have the purple sapphire. I believe I know where it is at present, and I can acquire it myself.
“No, Macklin, I have no fault to find with your work until recently. But this double failure in the simple matter of eliminating a newspaperman — namely Clyde Burke — may prove to be serious. In fact, it is hampering some of my most important plans.”
“Why?” Macklin’s voice was challenging. “Whadda you care about a guy like Burke? He ain’t got anything on you, has he?”
“Nothing of consequence.”
“Why all the fuss then?”
“Macklin,” said Palermo suavely, “you have one failing. You cannot see beyond facts that are extremely obvious. You realize, of course, that Burke has escaped through the aid of a friend, or protector. Yet you have no idea who his protector may be.”
“Yeah,” admitted Macklin, “you’re right there, Doc. Maybe I have got a one-track mind. I told the boys to get Burke. I didn’t think much about this other guy. If he—”
“If he were out of the way,” put in Palermo, as Macklin hesitated, “it would be easy to get Burke, wouldn’t it?”
“Yeah. I hadn’t thought of it until now.”
“All right. Put him out of the way.”
“That would be easy,” laughed Macklin, “if I knew who he was. But right now I ain’t—”
“You’d like to know who he is, wouldn’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll tell you who he is,” said Palermo, in a low, subtle voice that made Macklin stare. “I’ll tell you who he is. They call him”— the speaker paused impressively—”The Shadow!”
“The Shadow!” Macklin’s eyes were wide.
“The Shadow,” repeated Palermo impressively. “Have you ever heard of him?”
“Gunner” Macklin was on his feet, walking nervously up and down the room.
“You’re sure of that, Doc?” he questioned, in a whining voice. “You ain’t kiddin’ me, are you?”
“Certainly not,” replied Palermo coldly.
“The Shadow!” whispered Macklin. “I can’t believe it, Doc! What a guy he is! There ain’t no gunman that could ever get him! I never figured I’d be up against The Shadow!
“Tell me, Doc”—the voice was pleading—”are you sure about this? Tell me — have you ever seen — seen — The Shadow?”
“Yes. In this apartment!”
MACKLIN stared about him as though he expected some black monster to rise from the wall and overwhelm him. Then his eyes sought Palermo’s face, and Macklin winced as he saw the expression of disdain upon the physician’s lips.
Palermo clapped his hands. Hassan appeared, carrying two glasses of liquor on a tray.
“Only one, Hassan,” said Palermo calmly. “Let Mr. Macklin have it. He needs it.
“The Shadow proved to be a rather clever person,” added Palermo, after Macklin had gulped his drink.
“In fact, he thought he had me trapped. I was forced to employ one of my best illusions. I disappeared in smoke.”
“You — what?” Macklin was incredulous.
“I vanished,” said Palermo calmly. “When next The Shadow saw me, he was at my mercy.
“Until then, he had been rather stupid. He suddenly showed signs of cleverness. Before I had chosen to blot him from existence, he managed to escape.”
“Whew!” exclaimed Macklin. Palermo’s description was too deep for him to understand, yet he accepted it. “Have you seen him since?”
“No.” There was a tone of disappointment in Palermo’s voice. “That is why I called you in, tonight. I want you to find him.”
“Find The Shadow!” blurted Macklin. “I wouldn’t go after that guy for all the money in the mint. He ain’t human! Nobody even knows what he looks like, and those that have tried to find out ain’t around to tell their story.”
“I have paid you well to remain in my employ,” Palermo said. “But suit yourself. Either our arrangement is at an end, and you may count yourself out on all future profits — or — find The Shadow!”
Macklin shook his head. “I know what that guy can do. There ain’t enough money in it. Don’t talk price. I won’t listen.”
“I might mention,” resumed Doctor Palermo, “that The Shadow is concerned with the past as well as the future. He is particularly anxious to reveal my former activities, and those of any who have been associated with me.
“It is not a question of money, Macklin. It is a matter of self-protection for me — and for you.”
The last phrase was emphatic. “Gunner” Macklin turned pale and swayed slightly in his chair. He rubbed his forehead and found cold perspiration there.
“FURTHERMORE,” the physician continued, in purring tones, “The Shadow has no reason to believe that I will cease my activities on his account. He is watching for our next move — our move, Macklin, not mine alone.
“If we fail to move, he will force the issue. We are menaced, and I may state positively that you are the one who faces the first danger. If you decide to abandon me, you will place yourself in a hopeless position.”
Gunner Macklin mopped his brow with a huge silk handkerchief. He was convinced that Doctor Palermo spoke the truth. His face became piteous as he gasped and looked toward the physician.
“I see that you understand now,” said Palermo. “Therefore I shall tell you how to act. Have you a good safecracker you can trust?”
“Yeah. Louie Seligman. He’s been layin’ low. The cops don’t know he’s in town.”
“Good. Tonight, send him to the home of Raymond Hoetzel. The address is on this paper.
“Hoetzel’s home is an old house, wonderfully protected by burglar alarms. But Hoetzel, a patient of mine, told me about the system that protects the place; and later I discovered its weaknesses. This envelope contains all the instructions that Seligman will need.
“Send four gunmen with him to watch the place. Let them be on guard while Seligman cracks the safe. Be sure that they watch outside.
“Give them orders to shoot any one who tries to interfere. But do not tell them that they may be disturbed by The Shadow!”
“Right,” replied Macklin. “Say, Doc, I’ve got a couple of Chicago gunmen who just blew into town.
Looking for some real dough. How about it? Shall I put them on this?”
“Where did you meet them?” asked Palermo cautiously.
“They brought letters from Frank Margio,” explained Gunner Macklin. “Chicago was too hot for them.
Margio is in with the big shots out there; he’s O.K.”
“All right. Use them.”
“What about the swag?”
“It’s likely to be a good haul,” replied Palermo. “Make your deal with Seligman. Pay off the gorillas. After that, it’s fifty-fifty.
“If The Shadow is bumped off — well, there’ll be lots for both of us after that. You must be on this job, Macklin.”
“Me?” The gangster’s question was uttered in a weak voice.
“Yes, you. Across the street from Hoetzel’s house is an open space where a few cars are parked. Drive up in your car, and back in there.
“You can watch the front and side of Hoetzel’s place. If The Shadow appears there, give him the rod.
You won’t be mistaken if you see him.”
Macklin thrust the envelope and the addressed paper in his pocket. He rose clumsily and started from the room.
FIFTEEN minutes after the departure of Gunner Macklin, another person called on Doctor Palermo. The new visitor was Thelda Blanchet.
Hassan ushered the young woman into the apartment, and led her to the Chinese room on the third floor.
There Doctor Palermo was seated in his Oriental throne, as silent and impassive as the bronze image of Chong that rested in the corner.
The physician smiled at his visitor. The girl was beautiful in the soft light of the Oriental room. The jet-blackness of her hair made her face seem molded of ivory.
She typified all that was alluring in femininity. The daring lines of her stylish gown added to her seductiveness.
Approval gleamed in Palermo’s eyes, and Thelda, detecting the man’s expression, rewarded him with a sophisticated smile as she seated herself close beside him.
“It seems a long time since I was here,” said Thelda softly. “Yet actually it was but a few nights ago. You told me then — you told me that it would not be long before — before you and I would—”
She paused, and gazed at the impassive face of the man beside her.
“It will not be long, I hope,” replied Palermo. “Still, we must wait. That night, when you were here, I had an unexpected visitor.”
The girl seemed to sense something ominous in Palermo’s words. She gripped his arm in momentary alarm, but the man remained as impassive as before.
“But you sent for me, tonight,” protested Thelda.
“Only to tell you of our danger,” was the reply. “The man who came here called himself The Shadow.”
“I have only heard of The Shadow,” said Thelda, “but I know that he is a strange, unaccountable man of mystery. No one has ever found him.”
“I have.” There was a note of pride in Palermo’s voice. “I have found him. I can destroy him. But I need your aid.”
“It is yours.”
“The Shadow,” said Palermo, “works with the daring of a criminal. He is not a man of the underworld.
He belongs to the highest realm of society.
“Knowing this, I have studied my complete records. They contain data concerning all those who move among the Four Hundred. One by one I have eliminated possibilities, until I have discovered the only name which cannot stand full analysis.
“The Shadow, when he chooses to mingle with the elite, appears under the name and person of George Clarendon.”
The name meant nothing to Thelda.
“George Clarendon,” continued Palermo, “will be at an exclusive affair tomorrow night. It will be held in the ballroom of the Larchmore Hotel.
“You will be escorted there by Mr. Herbert Archer, a young society man. You will be introduced to George Clarendon.
“If you are as beautiful tomorrow night as you are tonight, Clarendon will respond to your charms.”
The girl nodded. She began to understand Palermo’s plans.
“You will watch him carefully,” said Palermo. “Very carefully, and alluringly. Young Archer will leave you with George Clarendon. Perhaps you can detain Clarendon from then on.
“If he should depart unexpectedly, express your regret, and arrange to see him again. And should he leave tomorrow night, call me as soon as he is gone.”
There was silence in the mysterious room. Palermo was scheming in his mind. Thelda was considering the prospect of the coming night; but more than that, she was lost in the glamour of her present surroundings, in the presence of the man she loved. Palermo’s voice suddenly broke into her reverie.
“You must go now,” he said.
“No, no!” protested Thelda. “No, no, Albert! Let me stay a while—”
Doctor Palermo shook his head.
“Not yet,” he said. “You must go, and you must stay away until I summon you. That will be after we have ended this menace.
“Tomorrow night may bring us freedom. I am counting on you, Thelda.”
The girl rose sadly.
“You are in danger, here,” she said.
“Not here,” replied Palermo. “Here I am safe.”
“But you are lonely. Only Hassan is with you.”
“Not only Hassan.” A faint smile appeared upon Palermo’s countenance, as he waved his hand toward the corner of the room. “Don’t forget Chong. He is good company.”
The girl looked at the bronze image, with its folded arms, and its ugly, glaring face. She could not repress a shudder. The hideous metal idol seemed to disturb the melodious harmony of the Chinese room.
Thelda turned pleadingly to Palermo, but the man seemed obdurate. Silently, the girl left the sanctum.
For many minutes, Doctor Palermo sat motionless in his throne, while the gold dragon on his crimson robe seemed to writhe with the breeze from the roof.
Palermo was plotting new schemes, planning moves like a chess-master, far in advance. His eyes were on the bronze image of Chong; as he stared at it, the ugly smile came upon his face. It would have been difficult then to have decided which was more hideous — the horrible idol or its sinister owner.