Part 4 (1/2)
”Was Cranston's nephew. The one that Stanley, the chauffeur, said was in New York.” ”But he was the image of Cranston -”
Clyde shook his head. He produced another photograph. It showed a face very much like Cranston's, but younger.
There were slight points of difference, that Clyde pointed out.
”Leroy Cranston,” named Clyde. ”From California. Nephew of Lamont. This picture was in the Cla.s.sic files.”
”Then this was the man I saw?” queried Weston. ”But he recognized me, outside the club, and I had never met him!”
”He may have known who you were,” smiled Clyde. ”You mistook him for his uncle, but he did not have a chance to explain who he was.”
”But why did he disappear?”
”Probably because he saw his uncle's photograph on the newspaper you handed him. He was alarmed; he must have dashed for the telephone at the corner drug store.”
”But he didn't return to New Jersey. I called there repeatedly. The servants mentioned Cranston's nephew, but did not know where he was.”
Clyde produced a clipping that gave the names of pa.s.sengers on a liner that had sailed from New York at midnight on the same evening that the robbery had struck at Silsam's ”Leroy booked pa.s.sage immediately,” declared Clyde. ”He wanted to reach his injured uncle. By this time, he has just about reached England.”
WESTON'S smile was genuine. At last, the commissioner was satisfied. He called his secretary, to cancel an appointment that he had made with a psycho-a.n.a.lyst. Weston had actually believed himself a victim of hallucinations, and had decided that he needed the attention of a physician who specialized in treatment of mental disorders.
”You have my full thanks, Burke,” commended the commissioner. ”If there is anything that I can do in return -”
”There is,” put in Clyde. ”You can save me the trouble of taking a trip to Guatemala.”
”To Guatemala?”
”Yes. You remember Kent Allard, the aviator, who was lost a dozen years ago? On that flight to South America?”
”Of course! Have they found a clue to his lost plane?”
”Better than that. They've located Allard himself! He landed in the Guatemalan jungle, and became the white G.o.d of a tribe of Xinca Indians. A Xinca messenger has just shown up in Puerto Barrios, on the Caribbean, with word that Allard is on his way back to civilization. The Cla.s.sic wants me to go to Guatemala and meet him.”
”An excellent a.s.signment, Burke!”
Clyde smiled. Cardona saw it and scowled. Joe knew what was coming, even though Weston did not. ”A good a.s.signment for some one else,” said Clyde to the commissioner. ”I'd rather stay here in New York and handle a job that I consider much better.”
”He means the Silsam case, commissioner,” put in Cardona. ”I saw what he was driving at. Listen, Burke” - Joe swung to Clyde - ”when we're ready to break these jewel robberies, you'll be in on it! But until then -”
”Until then,” inserted Clyde, ”I'd like to be getting some advance dope. You know me well enough, Joe. I wouldn't spoil an exclusive story. Let me in on it and I'll hold everything until you say the word go.”
Ordinarily, Cardona would have returned a flat refusal. Joe was willing to take Clyde at his word; but he preferred to work without a reporter at his elbow. Joe realized though, that he did not have the final say.
If he rebuked Clyde, he would be crossing Weston. This was the commissioner's chance to repay a debt to Clyde Burke.
”I am willing to grant the request,” decided Weston, after a short consideration. ”Of course, Cardona has charge of the investigation. If he objects -”
”I don't object,” growled Joe, coming to his feet. He had noted that Weston's tone had resumed its usual crispiness. ”It's jake with me, Burke, since the commissioner says so. Since you're keeping mum, I'll go the whole hog. I'm on my way right now to get some information I want. You can come along.”
WITH a smile, Clyde bundled up the items that he had shown to Weston. He shook hands with the grateful commissioner and went out the door with Cardona. As they reached the street, Clyde still wore the smile that he could not repress; and with good reason.
Clyde Burke was an agent of The Shadow. He had handed Weston well-concocted details at The Shadow's own order. The radio photo was actually one of the real Lamont Cranston. So, for that matter, was the picture of the supposed Leroy. The nephew did not exist.
Clyde had simply dug up an old picture of Lamont, and had it retouched. Taken a dozen years ago, it showed a younger face; and the retouching job had changed a few essential details.
As for the clipping that named the steams.h.i.+p pa.s.sengers, Clyde had faked that completely, with the aid of a friend in the composing room at the Cla.s.sic.
Pinch-hitting for The Shadow, Clyde had accomplished two aims. The first was to settle Weston's mind regarding the Cranston mystery; the second, to team along with Joe Cardona and learn any details regarding the jewel robberies that had not reached The Shadow.
So far, Clyde had done well. He was confident, moreover, that by going along with Cardona, he would run into new opportunities. In that, Clyde was right. This very afternoon, he was to meet the master-crook that The Shadow sought. He was to gain that meeting through Joe Cardona.
Unfortunately, neither Joe Cardona nor Clyde Burke were armed with suspicion. Both were to be deceived by the subtle craft of the master-murderer. Only The Shadow could have seen through the supercrook's guile.
But The Shadow, his one disguise useless for the time, was busy preparing another before he could get back on the trail again.
CHAPTER VIII. A FAIR EXCHANGE.
CARDONA and Clyde took a taxi at the nearest corner, and Joe gave the driver a Maiden Laneaddress. As they rode along, Joe kept his promise to let Clyde have the details. He explained the first lead that the law had gained.
”When Shark Meglo s.n.a.t.c.hed those sparklers at Silsam's,” stated Cardona, ”Hood Bleeth was grabbing some papers from the safe. Hood didn't get far with them. Here's one sheet we found on him.”
Cardona produced a folded paper. It was a bill of sale, describing gems that Hugo Silsam had purchased. It bore the heading ”Oceanic Gem Co.,” and gave the sum of Silsam's purchase as two hundred thousand dollars.
”The only trouble with this,” admitted Cardona. ”is that n.o.body knows anything about the Oceanic Gem Co. There's only one man who might have some information for us. That's Madden Henshew, the international jewel broker. We're on our way to see him.”
Clyde knew that Cardona had gained doc.u.ments at Silsam's; papers that Harry Vincent had not had a chance to see. Clyde had also heard of Madden Henshew; for the jewel broker had long been in the news. A man of high reputation, Henshew frequently arranged sales of famous gems. Whenever he did so, he furnished the press with statistics that always made a good story.
Henshew's office proved a busy one; several clerks were working at full speed and the clatter of typewriters reminded Clyde of the newspaper office. All was quiet, however, when the visitors were ushered into Henshew's private office.
They were greeted by a portly, baldish man whose broad, serious face wore a stubbly brown mustache.
When they seated themselves, Cardona handed the bill of sale to Henshew. The jewel broker saw the name at the head of the doc.u.ment. His lips pursed as he stroked his chin. Henshew had found a recollection. He called a secretary; told him to bring the annual volumes of the East India Trade Review.
The books arrived. They were well bound, but compact. Henshew looked through a few; then found what he wanted.
”Here it is,” he announced. ”The Oceanic Gem Co., of Calcutta. Last listed in the 1933 annual. The concern sold out during that year. This report, though, makes a fine showing. Prominent Britishers as officers. Large a.s.sets listed. If a shrewd faker had shown a book like this to Silsam, it would have brought results. Silsam would have taken the rogue as a bona fide agent of the Oceanic Gem Co.”
Henshew closed the book as he spoke. It was Clyde Burke who observed that the cover bore no date.
Clyde voiced the opinion that Silsam would not have suspected such a volume to be an old one.
Henshew concurred on that point.
”Jewel brokers handle sales confidentially,” explained Henshew. ”That could have deceived Silsam. The swindler, however, could not be an important broker. Take this office, for instance. Every item goes through a dozen hands. Our books are always open for inspection. When we hold gems, they are carefully listed when they go into our vault. Other large houses do the same. Therefore, the swindler might be a man who knows the jewel business; but he is not a reputable broker.”