THE search for The Shadow lost its official approval as soon as it had begun. The ardent efforts of Detective Stanley Warwick were overruled by his superiors.
Nothing like this had ever occurred in the history of the New York police force. Men could be wanted for crimes; clews could be followed in tracking unknown criminals. But it was impossible to swear out a warrant for every person who might be wearing a black cloak and hat.
The voice of The Shadow had been heard over the radio the night after the affair in the house on Eastern Avenue. That meant nothing. There was no proof that the man who had eluded Warwick was the same person as the radio announcer.
Police records showed that more than one criminal had claimed to be The Shadow. In the face of previous occurrences, the police commissioner deemed it wise to rescind the order which Stanley Warwick had sponsored.
Warwick was quick to realize his folly. He knew that he could demand to know the identity of the man who broadcast every week; at the same time, he saw that such an action would be a mistake.
He would not know The Shadow if he should meet him face to face. He would be ridiculed, and would gain nothing. He felt that his best policy was to wait until The Shadow again became active.
If a man in black should commit a crime or place himself in a suspicious position, that would be a starting point.
Warwick already had a tip. Palermo had secretly notified him that George Clarendon should be watched.
Warwick quickly learned facts concerning Clarendon, who was well known in society. But he could not trace the man, nor could he learn where he lived.
All data on Clarendon ended at a certain point. Beyond that, nothing was obtainable.
It was evident that The Shadow was exercising caution, and Doctor Palermo had gained the freedom he desired, temporarily at least.
He advised Warwick to track down The Shadow’s agents, and named Clyde Burke as one of them.
The ex-reporter was not to be found. Following instructions from The Shadow, he was living in the apartment across the street from the Marimba. Harry Vincent was the only one who ventured forth.
Had either of the men been quizzed, they could not have furnished important evidence. For The Shadow made all his phone calls from different sources. Each hour word was received from him; the return number was invariably a new one.
The vigil kept on. On the fourth night following the encounter between Warwick and The Shadow, the phone buzzed while Burke was watching from the window. Burbank was on the wire.
“Called to the fortieth floor,” came the report. “Must hurry back. Palermo may be going out.”
WORKING quickly in the dark, Harry Vincent dialed the latest number given by The Shadow. There was no reply. It was a moment that required decision.
“Come,” said Harry shortly. “We can’t miss this chance.”
The two men hurried to the street and slipped into Harry’s coupe. They drove around the block. A taxicab was pulling away from the Marimba Apartments. They could not see the face of the passenger.
“Guesswork,” grunted Harry. “We’ll follow this bird, just the same.”
The cab rolled uptown, the coupe staying well in the rear. The course led to Eastern Avenue. The cab stopped in front of an old house with boarded windows.
Harry and Clyde saw a man go up the steps and unlock the door. They drove by as they watched.
“It’s Palermo,” said Clyde softly. “That house is the one mentioned in the newspapers — the home of Doctor Brockbank, where Warwick met The Shadow.”
“It’s a funny thing,” observed Harry, as he stopped the car around the corner. “Warwick started the rumpus about The Shadow. Warwick is also after Palermo. Why hasn’t he identified Palermo as The Shadow?”
“Because Palermo is not The Shadow.”
“Of course not. But Warwick has quizzed Palermo and he has encountered The Shadow. He must see some connection—”
“Either he thinks they are working together; or he knows the truth, namely that Palermo and The Shadow are opposed to one another. Warwick is a keen man, Harry.”
Harry climbed from the car, and Clyde followed. Together they went to the back of the house. Harry observed the white-boards over the rear window where The Shadow had entered.
“Loose,” he remarked, after a quick inspection. He pried the boards open and tried the window.
“Unlocked. Come along.”
Clyde pushed Harry through the window and his companion helped him follow. They were in total darkness at first; when they had made their way to the front of the building they observed a light at the head of the stairs.
“Come along,” said Harry.
From his pocket he drew a loaded automatic and gave it to Clyde. With his own gun in hand, Harry led the way.
They stole up the stairs. The door at the top was ajar. They could not see who was in the lighted room.
A board creaked under Clyde’s foot. Harry pushed his companion down the hall. They waited in the darkness. They could hear some one coming to the door of the room. The door opened. Palermo was visible as he stepped into the hall.
“Who’s there?” came his voice.
Palermo pressed the button of a flashlight. He turned the instrument along the hall. Its glare revealed the watching men.
Harry did not hesitate. He leaped forward, covering Palermo with his automatic. The physician dropped the flashlight and backed into the room. The young men followed him.
Doctor Palermo sat in the chair beside the desk, his hands above his head.
“What does this mean?” he snarled. Then his manner became suddenly smooth. “Ah! It’s my friend Burke,” he added, in a pleased tone.
After making sure that Burke was master of the situation, Harry went downstairs. He found the telephone, called the number that The Shadow had given him. The low, familiar voice replied.
“Vincent,” said Harry. “At the Brockbank house. Trailed Palermo upstairs in the little room. Burke has him covered. We can hold him.”
“How long?”
“As long as you require.”
A laugh came from the other end of the wire. It was not the usual laugh of The Shadow. It carried no triumph; it bore no mockery. It was a dull laugh that seemed to indicate disappointment. Harry was perplexed.
“Hurry back to the little room and order Palermo to come back with you while you resume conversation with me. Hurry, or you may be too late!”
Harry rushed upstairs wondering. He had been watching the top of the stairs all during his conversation with The Shadow. What had The Shadow meant by the words “too late”?
Harry reached the top of the stairs. He had his automatic in readiness; already his command to Palermo was on his lips. Then he stopped short in astonishment.
The little room was empty! Silently, mysteriously, Doctor Palermo had completely vanished from the room with its single door and its boarded window!
Somehow, he had escaped from the trap — more than that, Clyde Burke had vanished with him!