The Shadow - The White Skulls Part 3

Except that the cab was no longer waiting when Gail arrived back. Its driver had instructions to get to the station at a certain time and he was following those orders. All Gail saw was the side of the cab as it swung thecorner. By the street lamp she read the name "Apex Cab Company" and nothing more.

It wasn't much, but it was all that Gail could use, so she made the most of it. Spying another cab that was returning from a trip, Gail saw that it bore the same name, "Apex", so she hailed it.

"Take me to your garage," Gail ordered. "I left something in a cab - something very important. I'd like to speak to the manager about it."

The Apex Garage was quite deserted when Gail arrived there. Outside was an old night watchman, who looked too lazy and decrepit to make his rounds. Gail alighted to talk to him while her cabby was putting his cab up for the night.

"I dropped a cigarette case in the cus.h.i.+ons of a cab," Gail told the old watchman. "I don't know which cab it was. Maybe it hasn't come in for the night."

The watchman removed a corn-cob pipe from his lips and spoke through a trickle of smoke.

"Go inside and look, lady," he suggested. "If it ain't in one of them cabs, it will be in Leo's. He's t'only one who hadn't checked in yet."

Gail's cabby was leaving the garage, which made the situation perfect.

All the girl had to do was go into the garage, fake a search among the cabs that were already there and say she couldn't find the cigarette case. That would give her an excuse to question Leo when he arrived. That way, she might learn something about those bags that Sark had sent away.

It would mean stalling for time, though, since by Gail's calculation, Leo couldn't have reached the station yet, since it was much further from the hotel than was this garage. So Gail entered the garage and started looking in the cabs.

In the very first, Gail received a startling surprise. In the rear seat, bound and gagged, was a young man whose face Gail recognized despite the way it was m.u.f.fled. The prisoner was Jud Mayhew!

There was an appealing look in Jud's eyes and from the direction in which they turned, Gail saw what was in his mind. This particular cab had its keys dangling from the ignition lock, so there was nothing to stop Jud from driving away in it, except that he was bound.

That didn't apply to Gail, though, as Jud's eyes plainly told. True to the form she'd shown so far, Gail didn't hesitate. Getting into the front seat of the cab, the girl turned on the ignition, pressed the starter, and shot the cab right out through the garage door.

All that the watchman got was a whiff of gas from the exhaust as he sprang to his feet shouting after Gail. Then the cab was around the corner and Gail was speeding it off toward the superhighway.

From somewhere came a whistle blast, announcing the train that Jud wasn't going to take. Leo's cab was probably nearing the station now, but Gail was no longer worrying about Sark's bags and whatever they contained. Other people could concern themselves with that proposition. Gail's business was to get away from Stanwich with the cab she had just borrowed and then find out what Jud had to tell her. Others definitely were concerning themselves with Leo's cab. A speedy car, cleaving in from a rough street that formed a short-cut to the station, swerved to begin a burst of speed that would enable it to overhaul that cab that Sark had summoned. This cab was piloted by Miles Crofton and in the back seat was The Shadow. His agents were giving him special service, as amends for letting the caravan slip them earlier.

Leo's cab wasn't going to do the same. Ahead were the lights of the depot and there wasn't any avenue of escape for the cab. Right now another car, driven by Chance Lebrue, was coming in to block off any trick stuff if Leo tried it.

Quick work on Chance's part, swinging around by the Apex Garage, so that Jud could be deposited there; then he continued on to the station to help round up Leo's cab.

Perhaps it was Chance's sudden appearance in the picture that caused The Shadow to intone an order to Crofton, an order which called for slackened speed.

Logical enough that since both The Shadow's cars were present, they should converge at once. Again, it might be that The Shadow wanted Leo to unload at the station before the cars closed in.

There could be still another reason, fantastic though it seemed. In a vicinity where solid buildings could crumple at a moment's notice, where an entire caravan of cars and trucks could disappear within a dozen seconds, anything might happen.

Possibly The Shadow just wanted to convince himself regarding the status of Leo's cab and any tricks it might perform. If so, he called the proper turn.

The thing happened as the cab came to a stop at a traffic light just outside the parking plaza beside the station. It was Leo's first stop since leaving the hotel and also his last. Fortunately The Shadow's cars were far enough away to have the vantage point of witnesses, not of victims. For Leo's cab vanished itself in a style far more spectacular than anything previous.

There was just a sudden cough, a burst of flame as brilliant as a magnesium light. The air snapped together with an explosive "Pow!" that sounded like

four.

tires blowing simultaneously. With that flash, there wasn't a fragment left of the cab nor any of its contents.

The great searchlight of the Midnight Limited, drilling from the locomotive that was veering from a switch, showed charred and blackened cobblestones at the entrance to the parking yard.

That was all!

CHAPTER VII.

NOON in Manhattan.

In a quiet side-street cafe in the Greenwich Village area, Jud Mayhew and Gail North were reading over the newspaper accounts that related but a fragment of their adventures.

"It looks like I'm two people," commented Jud. "The unknown hero who warned the crowd about the warehouse collapse, and the unidentified man who left the hotel to take a fatal cab ride. Luckily they haven't linked one with the otheryet - or should I say luckily?"

Gail shook her head. She didn't know. Then, brus.h.i.+ng back some of her stray red tresses, Gail faced Jud seriously.

"I'm the one who ought to worry," Gail argued. "If they find out I was the mystery girl who stole that cab out of the Apex Garage, what will happen next?"

"Nothing," returned Jud. "I'll take the blame for it."

"Then we'll both be arrested."

"Hardly." Jud tapped the newspaper. "There is still some doubt as to which cab exploded. It might have been ours, not Leo's."

"But when they don't find Leo?"

"Then they may think he scampered on his own. Things are very mixed up in Stanwich. For one thing, that half-blind watchman at the garage didn't know you had red hair."

Gail's eyes widened.

"He didn't?"

"Nope." Jud exhibited the newspaper as proof. "I wonder why he didn't. I should think it was something always to be remembered, that lovely hair of yours."

It was lovely, all right, as Jud now viewed it, but the watchman hadn't had the benefit of the noon-time sunlight that gave the scintillating burnish to Gail's present hairdo. As for Jud's reaction, Gail preferred to keep matters on a strictly business basis.

"This is no time for sentiment, if that's what you call it," rebuked Gail, across the table. A frown rose above her snub nose as she avoided Jud's eyes by studying the newspaper. Then, laughing in spite of herself, Gail pa.s.sed the paper back to Jud, as she added. "Read that!"

Jud read it and laughed too. It was the garage watchman's testimony given in detail. He described Gail as having dark hair and dark eyes, which certainly didn't fit with either auburn or blue.

"I'll tell you who it does describe," stated Gail. "It fits that catty creature who was watching me at the hotel. I hope they found out her name was Margo Lane. If they do, she'll have to explain what she was doing in Stanwich."

Never having heard of Margo Lane by name or otherwise, Jud's expression became quizzical.

"She's a friend of Lamont Cranston," explained Gail, "but Margo doesn't know that I'd seen her around town."

"Around Stanwich?"

"Of course not," returned Gail. "Around New York. She belongs here too."

"And Cranston?"

"He's a New Yorker too. He was up in Stanwich with the other bigwigs who were reviewing the parade."

"What would Cranston know about Sark?"

As Jud put that question, Gail's face became troubled. Its sudden flush gave her complexion a color resembling her hair, despite the way Gail's lips tightened as she bit them. Then, in a low tone, the girl declared: "I don't believe that Cranston is concerned with Sark. I am afraid he was thinking in terms of my father."

Gail put it so frankly that Jud was forced to nod. That cleared the situation considerably. Without the slightest reserve, Gail inquired: "You are thinking in terms of my father, too?"

"To some degree," admitted Jud. "You see I work for Philo Brenz."

If Jud expected Gail to denounce him as a cad, or anything like it, he was happily disappointed. There was nothing of the ogre about Brenz, where Gail was concerned.

"Brenz has a right to doubt my father," conceded Gail in her same frank tone. "After all, his company lost some very good contracts which my father not only admitted, but wished, had gone his way. Was that why Brenz sent you to Stanwich?"

"He sent me there to check on Sark."

"Of course," nodded Gail, "because Sark was the man who arranged those contracts through smaller companies. That's just the trouble, Jud."

Until now it had been "Mr. Mayhew," whenever Gail addressed Jud. But now the girl was leaning forward, her hand appealingly clutching Jud's arm. That Gail was more than serious, Jud could tell from the way her fingers trembled.

"The accounts are all wrong, Jud," Gail undertoned. "It isn't just a case of checking on some of those little companies. He can't even prove that the companies existed. Where some of the materials came from is a mystery; there were supposed to be priorities, but all the evidence is missing."

Jud's teeth gave a grit.

"In Sark's suitcases, I'll bet! That's why he got rid of them and himself along with them!"

Gail shook her head.

"I'm not so sure about either," she declared. "Sark may just be trying to make us think that he disappeared in a puff of smoke, taking those doc.u.ments with him."

"At least he tried to coax me into being the fall-guy," conceded Jud, "but I still don't see why he would keep evidence against himself."

"The evidence points to my father," explained Gail. "That's why Sark wanted to preserve it. Besides, Sark has enemies of his own."

That truth came right home to Jud as he remembered how he had been s.n.a.t.c.hed from what would otherwise have become a fatal cab ride. Who Jud's brief captors might have been, he couldn't even guess, and the perplexity that registered on his face made itself understood to Gail, "If I tell you more," said Gail, "you'll keep it to yourself, won't you?

I.

mean you won't give facts away - not even to Brenz - until I say you can?"

"Not if you tell me something I don't already know."

"All right then." Gail drew a deep breath of relief. "Did you ever hear of a man called Tanjor Zune?"

"No," admitted Jud. "In fact I never heard a name like it."

"Does the name Ludar mean anything to you?"

"Another blank."

"Very well then," decided Gail. "Since you're not to mention either, I'll tell you what little more I know about them. Zune is Sark's chief enemy; Ludar is the go-between."

"You mean just sort of a mutual emissary?"

"No. I mean that Ludar works for Zune but tells Sark whatever happens.

But I'm not sure that Ludar doesn't tell it all right back to Zune."

"What gives you that idea?"

"Listening in on Sark's telephone chats with Ludar. Somehow it seems likea double-cross all around."

"What sort of people are Zune and Ludar?"

"I've never seen them," admitted Gail. "I've only heard Sark talk to Ludar about Zune. But you won't mention this to anybody."

Jud smiled at Gail's tone, which carried command more than request. That explained itself by what followed.

"Because if you do mention it," stated Gail quite positively, "I won't show you where Sark lived. If I don't do that, we won't be able to go into the place together and find Sark's papers, if they still are there."

"An excellent proposal," returned Jud, "except that it would amount to burglary."

"Why not?" queried Gail. "We stole a cab last night, didn't we? By the way, Jud" - Gail put mock toughness in her tone - "where did you stash the hack?"

"In one of Brenz's garages," replied Jud with a smile. "n.o.body is going to find it, stuck in back of a lot of concrete mixers, unless -"

Gail's hand interrupted with a warning clutch. At the same moment, Jud was conscious that somebody had just come in the door. Then Gail eased her grip.

"It's all right," she confided. "I thought for the moment it was that Lane job wandering on my trail. I recognized the blue ensemble. It comes from Fifth Avenue in the Fifties. Margo doesn't have a monopoly on those styles though.

This one has a blonde in it."

Jud was smiling at the comment, when Gail added: "Don't look now, but I know that blonde too. She has an odd name: Ilga Vyx." Gail p.r.o.nounced the "y" like "i" and then continued: "I don't think she's a friend of Margo's. At least she won't be, if each sees the other copying their patterns. Suppose I run along; then you can watch Miss Vyx and make sure she isn't too interested."

That suited Jud, so Gail left. Paying the lunch check gave Jud ample time to stall and finally, when it was his turn to leave, he gained his first look at Ilga Vyx. She was rather a startling blonde and of a definitely foreign type, with eyes that moved dreamily and became blank when they fixed on anything such as Jud.

What impressed Jud chiefly about Ilga's get-up was the broad, circular hat she wore, tilted well back on her head. Full front, the hat accentuated her blonde hair, but when Jud looked back from the door, he saw that the hat completely concealed the blonde evidence, which explained why Gail, sighting Ilga from the back, had mistaken her for Margo.