The Shadow - Serpents Of Siva Part 5

THE bearded man gave a start. A grunt came from his lips. After a moment's hesitation, he plucked away the white whiskers. Peeling the shocky wig from his head, he revealed himself as the person named by Singhar Bund.

"How did you figure who I was?" demanded Cardona, abruptly. "I've never met you, so far as I can remember."

"Your beard was obviously a false one," replied Singhar Bund. "I would advise you to obtain a better one. The wig, though, is excellent."

"You haven't answered my question," persisted Cardona. "I'll admit that the Santa Claus outfit looks like a fake. But that didn't tell you whose face was behind the bushes."

Singhar Bund smiled placidly.

"Much is known to those who serve Siva," he declared. "Should you be too skeptical to accept that explanation, let us say that I solved your ident.i.ty through simple deduction. You will grant that any person coming to this meeting in disguise, could logically be taken for a police investigator."

Cardona granted that much.

"Very well," concluded Singhar Bund. "But why should such an investigator need a disguise at all? There is but one answer. He would have to be a person so definitely in the public eye, that he would fear recognition.

"There are very few police officials to whom that would apply. You are

one.

of those few, inspector." Singhar Bund bowed with smug courtesy. "Moreover, you top the list. That is why I named you."

The explanation satisfied Cardona. While hearing it, Joe was choosing his next step. He had, at least, gained one benefit. He had penetrated to the private room that formed Singhar Bund's headquarters. Cardona decided to press that advantage.

"There's some questions I'd like to ask," he declared, "about this racket of yours."

"A racket?" Singhar Bund arched his thin eyebrows, as though he had never heard the term. "I do not understand, inspector. My Siva cult is a legitimate organization. Its meetings are not only orderly, they are attended by persons of culture and refinement. If you have come here on a complaint, I can a.s.sure you that it is unwarranted."

"I've come to inquire about two people," put in Cardona, bluntly. "One is named Courtney Rensh.e.l.l; the other is Jack Sarmon. I'd like to know where they are."

Singhar Bund pondered.

"I recall Rensh.e.l.l," he declared. "For a while, he was a chela - the name we give to true followers of Siva. But worldly matters interfered. Rensh.e.l.l became a skeptic. He has not attended the past few meetings. As for Sarmon, the name is unfamiliar."

SINGHAR BUND lifted a small, padded hammer; he tapped a bronze gong. A scrawny Hindu appeared from the temple; Cardona heard Singhar Bund babble words in Hindustani. Among them was the name of Phineas Leeth. The Hindu servitor was gone for nearly a minute; when he reappeared, he ushered Leeth into the grotto. Pausing in his hobble, Leeth stared at Cardona.

His tired eyes showed surprise, then chagrin, when they noted the absence of Cardona's disguise.

"Be at ease, Mr. Leeth," purred Singhar Bund. "I am not angered because you brought Inspector Cardona here. I merely wish to know whether he came at your request, or his own."

Leeth admitted that he had called Cardona. Singhar Bund inquired if the matter concerned Courtney Rensh.e.l.l. Leeth replied in the affirmative. Singhar Bund opened the deep drawer of a thick-legged table. He found a typewritten card, that he handed to Cardona.

"This is all that I know regarding Rensh.e.l.l," a.s.sured Singhar Bund. "His name; his address; his attendance record. But the other man - Sarmon" - Singhar Bund looked through his files - "is not listed here."

Leeth put in an explanation. Sarmon was not a member of the Siva cult; he was merely a friend of Rensh.e.l.l's. Cardona remembered that Leeth had stated that fact in the hotel suite. The whole trail was leading away from Singhar Bund and the Siva cult.

Cardona was silently cla.s.sing Leeth as an old fool for bringing him here, when Singhar Bund provided a helpful remark.

"I cannot understand why Rensh.e.l.l left us," he declared. "For a while, he followed Siva ardently. He even brought a new student, who has become a true chela. I have her card here: her name is Lucille Mayland."

Cardona riveted. His thoughts snapped to an instant connection. He was right, he decided, regarding last night's trouble on Long Island. Welk's falling overboard had nothing to do with the brawl on sh.o.r.e.

Hoodlums had been on their way to Long Island before Welk's accident.

There was a reason why they could have picked the dock where the Wanderer was stationed. Lucille had been there!

It fitted like a glove. Somebody had gotten rid of Courtney Rensh.e.l.l. To clinch his disappearance, other persons had to be hushed. One was Jack Sarmon, Rensh.e.l.l's close friend. Another could logically be Lucille Mayland.

"The girl was Rensh.e.l.l's fiancee," mused Singhar Bund. "She should know facts concerning him. Miss Mayland was here tonight; but she left immediately after the meeting."

Cardona hadn't seen Lucille. He had been too busy watching Singhar Bund and the yogi. Singhar Bund remarked that a young man had accompanied Lucille to the meeting; but he was a stranger, and Singhar Bund had not inquired his name.

Meanwhile, Cardona had reached for Lucille's card. He read the girl's address. He asked Singhar Bund who else lived there. The Hindu was not certain.

"She lives with her uncle, I believe," said Singhar Bund. "Or perhaps her guardian."

"Her grandfather," corrected Leeth. "His name is Morton Mayland. Sarmon mentioned him. In fact" - Leeth rubbed his chin reflectively - "I believe that Sarmon intended to call at the Mayland residence, to inquire regarding Rensh.e.l.l."

THAT was enough for Cardona. He bundled his false beard and wig; stuffed the disguise into his pocket. Reaching for his hat, he told his companions that he was going directly to the Mayland home.

Phineas Leeth nodded approvingly from his chair; he smiled when Cardona a.s.sured him that he would soon hear more about the Rensh.e.l.l matter. Leeth remained in the grotto, while Singhar Bund conducted Cardona out through the deserted temple. There, Cardona shook hands warmly. He owed thanks to Singhar Bund; also an apology for having mistrusted him. Singhar Bund made light of the matter. He was serious, though, when he presented Cardona with a tiny Siva image.

"Carry this," urged Singhar Bund. "Regard it as a token of my friends.h.i.+p and good will. Whether or not you believe in the power of Siva, this little charm will a.s.sure your safety and will bring success to your present venture."

Cardona thrust the little image into his coat pocket. When Joe had left the temple, Singhar Bund stood alone. A glisten came to the Hindu's eyes; his lips parted, to form a contorted smile. Stepping to the giant statue of Siva, Singhar Bund delivered an audible hiss.

The tone was different from the serpent signals that Harry Vincent had heard. After he had hissed, Singhar Bund spoke to the faces of the statue. His words were cryptic, although he uttered them in English: "All has gone well. The time has come for the one required deed. Let it be done."

Singhar Bund stepped away from the statue. The insidious smile faded from his lips as he opened the bra.s.s door to the grotto. Singhar Bund was rejoining his pupil, Phineas Leeth, to discourse on the ways of Siva.

CHAPTER IX.

THE SHADOW'S TRAIL.

EVER since Harry's departure from the Mayland residence, The Shadow had been investigating the old mansion and the houses that adjoined it. The task had proven an exacting one.

In effecting his first entry, The Shadow had come through a next-door house, hoping to find a route across some connecting roof. He had struck luck in a lower hallway of the adjoining house, before he even reached the stairs.

There, The Shadow's flashlight had shown a panel in the wall, open half an inch. Following it, he had found a pa.s.sage that led behind the stairs in Mayland's house. That accounted for The Shadow's presence, when Harry came to meet Lucille.

Inspecting Mayland's house, The Shadow had gone everywhere except in the second floor sitting room. That was where Morton Mayland had retired; it was unwise to let the old man know that the premises were being scoured.

Returning to the lower pa.s.sage, The Shadow went back to the first house; searched it without finding anything of importance. Then, moving along the secret pa.s.sage, he had made a valuable discovery.

The pa.s.sage ended in a rough-hewn trapdoor. Beneath was a ladder, that led down into a blocked-off portion of the cellar. The far wall showed a gap in the masonry. The opening led to the farther house in the group of three.

Searching the cellar of the empty house, The Shadow found streaks in the dust outside a whitewashed coal bin. Working on the boards, he easily loosened them. There were boxes on the floor of the bin; s.h.i.+fting them, The Shadow uncovered a huge stone fitted in the floor. Its iron ring proved it to be the entrance to some subterranean chamber.

The thick slab was too heavy for one man to lift. The Shadow met that difficulty by a system of leverage. Loose bricks were available; he set them as a fulcrum, then applied a long piece of iron pipe that he found in the cellar.

The slab was budging under The Shadow's prodding effort, when the cloaked worker suddenly ceased his task. A sharp sound had knifed its echoes into this hidden bin. It was the unmistakable tingle of a telephone bell.

That ringing could come from only one source: Mayland's own house.

The Shadow had seen a telephone in the lower hall. If the old man did not have an extension line upstairs, it would take him a few minutes to answer the call. There was a chance that The Shadow could listen into Mayland's conversation.

The Shadow heard the tingle again, as he emerged from the coal bin. His trip, though, was a long one, even with the guiding beam of his tiny flashlight. He had to travel across one cellar, through the broken wall to Mayland's own house, up the ladder to the pa.s.sage.

WHEN The Shadow finally reached the panel that opened into Mayland's hallway, he found himself too late. Inching the panel open, he glimpsed Morton Mayland at the front door. The old man was wearing hat and overcoat. He gave the door a hasty slam, an instant after The Shadow spotted him.

Stepping into the hall, The Shadow closed the panel. He followed the same route that Mayland had taken. Edging the front door open, The Shadow spied Mayland beside a street lamp, beckoning toward the apartment building at the corner. Mayland received prompt service. A taxi wheeled up.

The Shadow took advantage of that interval to ease through the front door.

Closing it, he descended the steps. He was against the blackness of the brownstone building front when Mayland entered the cab. The Shadow caught the old fellow's hasty order to the cabby.

"Riverbank Apartments," cackled Mayland. "It's on West Eighty-eighth Street. I'll give you the number -"

The cab had started, with Mayland fumbling for the paper on which he had written the number. His destination was evidently one that had been given him over the telephone.

Another taxi detached itself from the corner and rolled up toward the brownstone house. The Shadow expected that. He had a cab of his own, manned by one of his agents - a clever hackle named Moe Shrevnitz - that he had stationed close at hand.

In his orders to Moe, The Shadow had stated that if anyone came to Mayland's or left there, Moe should cruise the street, watching for a signal.

The signal was to be a series of blinks from The Shadow's flashlight. It happened that The Shadow did not give them.

Just as his thumb was about to press the b.u.t.ton, The Shadow observed that the cab was not Moe's. It was an extra taxi that had been stationed near the apartment house. For some reason, it had followed the first one, so promptly that Moe had been unable to start.

The strange cab halted squarely in front of Mayland's house. The Shadow could see the driver's face, m.u.f.fled in the collar of his overcoat. The fellow hunched beside the wheel and waited.

Although this cab was worth investigation, The Shadow could not spare time for it. The cab's arrival on the scene was proof that something special lay behind Mayland's mission. Looking toward the corner, The Shadow saw Moe's cab.

It hadn't budged from its station. Moe was smart enough to await The Shadow there.

A quick trip to the corner would enable The Shadow to board Moe's cab. By speedy driving, he could reach the Riverbank Apartments ahead of Mayland. That chance was too good to lose. The Shadow edged from darkness, preparing for a swift glide past the street lamp. He waited a moment, at the sound of footsteps.

A stocky man came out of the darkness; stopped short at Mayland's steps.

He looked toward the dim house, then turned toward the cab. That was when TheShadow saw the arrival's face. The newcomer was Joe Cardona.

The ace detective had decided to question the driver of the mystery cab.

This was worth observation by The Shadow. He drew closer in the darkness.

"WHO are you waiting for?" The Shadow heard Cardona say. "Anybody from this house?"

The cabby didn't reply until Cardona flashed a badge. Seeing the emblem of authority, the fellow became voluble.

"I ain't waiting for anybody," he growled. "I'm sore, that's what, at the way I was gypped out of a fare! An old gink comes hopping out of this house, see? He gives the high-sign, and I wheel up.

"Then another hack cuts in front of me, and the old geezer takes it.

Leaving me here, with n.o.body! That was just a minute ago - and here I am, still talking to myself."

The cabby had lied regarding the incident; he had also lessened the time interval, for Mayland had been gone fully five minutes. The Shadow sensed that something else was due. It came, when Cardona questioned: "Where did the old gent go? Got any idea?"

"Have I?" snorted the cab driver. "Didn't he holler it loud enough to wake the neighborhood? He said he wanted to go to the Riverbank Apartments, on Eighty-eighth Street. And besides that - this is a funny one - he was so excited that he gave the apartment number instead of street address. 5 B was what he said."

Cardona yanked open the door of the cab.

"Get going," he told the driver. "To the Riverbank Apartments."

From that conversation, The Shadow had come to prompt conclusions. It was plain that Cardona's driver was hooked up with some curious game. He had arrived here close after the other cab, knowing beforehand where Morton Mayland intended to go. Hence he had told Cardona the address, without having overheard it. Moreover, he had specified an added detail - the apartment number - that Mayland had not mentioned to his own driver.

Just what the game promised was a riddle; but The Shadow saw its likely connection with the past. This was the sort of thing that could be the build-up to a fake accident, like the death of Rodney Welk.

If so, it indicated the coming presence of dacoit murderers at the Riverbank Apartments.

Cardona's cab was gone. The Shadow's flashlight blinked. Moe sped up from the corner; the moment that The Shadow had given him the address, the cabby reported: "I don't know who sent that second hack here. It shoved into sight just about five minutes before the old guy came out of the house."

THE cab was whipping along an avenue. The Shadow gave Moe another order.

The cab halted; Moe hurried into a cigar store to make a telephone call, that took him only two minutes. That was time lost; but it was necessary.

The Shadow had not forgotten that cover-up crews worked with the dacoits.

He had ordered Moe to call Burbank, instructing the contact man to send agents to Eighty-eighth Street. If it came to widespread battle, The Shadow could find use for capable reserves.

Moe was back at the wheel; the taxi was bowling northward. A low laugh throbbed from the darkness of the rear seat, as Moe cut in and out of traffic.Cars jammed the avenue ahead; Moe hooked a left turn at the last flicker of the green light. He was cutting through to another avenue, where the going would be faster.

Lost minutes would mean little to The Shadow, by the time this ride was completed. He could count on Moe to cut down the distance gained by those cabs ahead. The Shadow was confident that he had already overtaken Cardona. He might not catch up with Mayland, but he would be very close, by the time the first cab reached the Riverbank Apartments.

Beneath the folds of his black cloak, The Shadow gripped the cold steel that represented a brace of automatics. His laugh was a tone of whispered prophecy.

Those big guns would again be needed, before tonight's adventure reached its finish.