Part 8 (1/2)
”How?” queried Markin, with a spread of his hands. ”What else can I say? I told you that other lawyers might be on the death list. I hoped that you might have information.”
”We have,” declared Cardona. ”We found the key to a safe deposit box among Durton's effects. None of his family could identify it.”
”He is one of us,” nodded Markin. ”Let us hope that there are none others beside myself.”
”The key is the only piece of evidence,” stated Weston. ”It supports your statements, Markin. I believe that Clark Durton received that key from a millionaire. I am sure that he, like yourself and Verbeck, found the safe deposit box empty. But there the trail ceases.”
”It would,” said Markin. ”In Verbeck's case, it seemed certain that he received the key from Torrence Dilgin. I have already stated that I gained mine from Rufus Gilwood. But there is only one man who can tell you who gave the key to Clark Durton. That man is Lester Dorrington.”
”If we knew how many millionaires were swindled,” suggested Cardona, ”we could figure how many lawyers are slated for the spot. I'm putting four men on guard here, Mr. Markin. There was only one killer who went after Verbeck, but a bunch b.u.mped Durton.”
”That is something gained,” decided Markin, in a wise tone. ”You have learned definitely that the slayers are gangsters. But have you followed my suggestion of checking upon Lester Dorrington?”
”I covered his house last night,” returned Cardona. ”I had three men with me on Long Island. Dorrington was there all the while.”
”He would be!” exclaimed Markin, pounding his fist on the table. ”If your visit here to-night, gentlemen, is in hope of gaining information, I can give no more than I have already. I told you how I received a key from Gilwood; how his dodge to escape the inheritance tax failed. Dorrington appropriated those funds from Gilwood's box at the Farley National, just as he took the cash which Verbeck was supposed to find at the Paragon Trust.
”You have the information; what you need is advice. Here it is: remember that Lester Dorrington is crafty.
He is too wise to form contact at his home. His plans have undoubtedly been made in advance. There is only one course for you to follow. Look for crooks whose cases he handled in court. They are the ones who will be in this game.”
”That's right, Cardona,” agreed Weston, turning to the ace sleuth. ”That limits your hunt. Get the stool pigeons on the job. Keep away from the dragnet. These killers are men who are working from some hide-out.” ”I've got the stools working,” insisted Cardona. ”I've been looking up facts on Dorrington, too. I haven't used the plan that Mr. Markin here suggests we-”
”Use it then,” interposed Weston, ”and pa.s.s the word to-night. Others murders may be in the making.
Two have come in two nights. One may be on its way even now.”
Rising, the commissioner extended his hand to Kelwood Markin. The retired lawyer received the shake.
As Weston and Cardona turned toward the hall, he uttered words of thanks, particularly because four men were now on duty outside his house.
”There is no use in trying to deceive Dorrington,” declared the old lawyer. ”He has watched others; he will be watching me. He must certainly know by now that you are guarding this house. He knows that I have spoken.
”That, in a sense, is unfortunate. It may mean that Dorrington is all the more anxious to kill off other persons who may testify against him. I am still fearful, gentlemen. You can appreciate my qualms. By gaining your protection, I have unquestionably made Dorrington all the more desirous of killing me.”
Weston nodded from the door. This angle of the case was serious. Yet the commissioner expressed the a.s.surance that four men outside the house, with Howland inside, should be sufficient for Markin's safety.
The visitors departed. Markin summoned Howland. He gave the secretary brief orders for the morning.
The old man entered the bedroom and locked the door behind him. Howland turned out the lights in the living room, but did not lock the door.
Curtains stirred. The Shadow emerged from his hiding place. Crossing the living room he reached the hall and gained the stairs. He went up through the trapdoor and across the roof; when he descended through the deserted house, he found a side door that opened into a narrow alleyway. He used this as his exit.
LATER, the blue light shone in The Shadow's sanctum. A soft laugh sounded as the master sleuth studied the gathered clippings and reports. By his trip to Markin's, The Shadow had, since his arrival, gained the real facts in the secret that lay behind a chain of deaths.
Facts, undisclosed while The Shadow was in Rio, were pointing the way to the measures which must be taken to aid the law. By his actions aboard the Southern Star, The Shadow had sought to end the run of crime. Yet murder had followed in New York and The Shadow had learned why.
Piecing the remarks which Markin, Weston and Cardona had made concerning their previous conversation, The Shadow had gained a practical knowledge of Markin's revelations. The hidden listener at the conference to-night was the one who had profited through the discussion.
New murder might be on its way. Another lawyer-as yet unknown- might be the next victim set for murder. When crime struck, The Shadow would be there to meet it. He had gained the ground that he required to overtake new bursts of violence.
Earphones clicked. A light glowed upon the wall. Burbank's voice came across the wire. The Shadow responded, in his whispered tones.
”Instructions to Marsland,” were his words. ”Go to the Pink Rat. Await written orders that he will receive there.”
”Instructions received.”
Earphones clattered; hands disappeared from the light. When they returned, they were carrying foldersthat were identified by names. The Shadow began to study reports on crooks-definite data which he had produced from his exclusive files.
Half an hour pa.s.sed while The Shadow engaged in research. Then came a click of the light. A laugh crept through the darkened sanctum. The Shadow was departing. He was on his way to the underworld.
There he would form contact with Cliff Marsland. The Shadow and his agent, independently, would seek the information that was needed. The Shadow had taken the same advice that Joe Cardona had received from Kelwood Markin.
On this, the first night of his arrival in New York, he was seeking first-hand information concerning the whereabouts of crooks who had been legal clients of Lester Dorrington.
CHAPTER XII. A CLIENT ADVISES.
ON the following afternoon, a tall, cadaverous man entered the lobby of the Bylend Building. He purchased a newspaper at the stand; he paused to glance at the headlines. The murders of Hugo Verbeck and Clark Durton were still in the news, but no new killings had been reported.
The tall man was Lester Dorrington. He was returning to his offices after lunching at his club. His expressionless face revealed nothing of his thoughts as he strolled toward the express elevator that awaited pa.s.sengers for the twentieth floor and those above that level.
When Dorrington's footsteps clicked along the corridor of the twenty-fourth floor, a door opened across the way from the lawyer's suite. Peering eyes watched Dorrington pa.s.s. A detective, stationed by Joe Cardona, was watching the lawyer's return.
From the time that he had left his house that morning, during the lunch period that he had spent at the club, Lester Dorrington had been under police surveillance. Yet there was nothing in the lawyer's att.i.tude that indicated suspicion of that fact.
Arriving in his inner office, Lester Dorrington began to study papers that were upon his desk. While the solemn-faced attorney was thus engaged, a ring came from the private telephone. Dorrington went to the little cabinet in the corner. He brought out the telephone and answered the call.
”What's that?” he questioned, sharply, as he recognized the voice over the wire. ”Ace Feldon? I didn't tell him to come to see me... I see... He wants to talk to me, eh? Put him on the wire... What's that? Well...
All right... Send him down...”
Dorrington deposited the telephone in the cabinet. He strode swiftly across the luxurious private office and locked the door that led to the outer rooms. Dorrington had half a dozen workers in his general office, with lesser a.s.sociates in private rooms of his extensive suite. He did not want to be disturbed by any of them.
Coming back to the corner by the little telephone cabinet, Dorrington unlocked the door of a closet. He pressed a shelf upward. A click followed. A panel raised in the rear of the closet.
The opening showed a spiral staircase.
DULL footsteps were clanging down the stairway. Dorrington stepped back into the office. A hard-faced, big-fisted man appeared from the open panel. His thick lips wore a pleased smile.
”h.e.l.lo, Dorrington,” growled the arrival. ”h.e.l.lo, Feldon,” responded the lawyer, dryly. ”Sit down. I shall talk with you immediately.”
As the hard-faced man sauntered to a chair, the lawyer stepped into the closet and closed the panel. He left the door open, then came back to his desk. Taking his swivel chair, he stared coldly at his visitor.