'Chanbury took the gems!' exclaimed the jewel broker. 'He knew that I had them! He was the only one
-'
Henshew stopped. Chanbury was not the only one who had known. Henshew could not forget The Shadow. The words, however, had given Cardona an idea. Joe voiced it, straight to Chanbury.
'So that's why you had Tyrune snoop at Henshew's. Open that safe, Chanbury! We'll have a look!'
'He must have planted them there!'
CHANBURY was pointing to The Shadow. The grizzled man's voice became hollow as he heard a whispered laugh. The Shadow's tone, like the look of the heavy-locked vault, belied Chanbury's accusation. Perhaps The Shadow was reputed to have amazing skill at opening vaults, but there was no one to testify to it.
If Henshew's gems were found in Chanbury's vault, the law would believe that Chanbury had placed them there. It would be odd, indeed, to find anyone - even The Shadow - bestowing a quarter million dollars' worth of wealth upon some one who had no claim to it.
'What if I do have the gems?' challenged Chanbury. 'I've laid everything else in the open! I intended to do the same with the jewels I took from Henshew's! I couldn't let it out too soon.'
'You never intended to!' cried Henshew. 'You took the swag to scare me off. You thought maybe I'd quit and let you have the jewels. But if I came here - like I was fool enough to do tonight - I'd find the law here waiting. Maybe you'd like to know what I'd have done, if I'd known you had them gems. I'll tell you. I would have quit!'
Henshew's admission was small comfort to Chanbury. The Shadow had played crook against crook.
Henshew vengeful toward Chanbury, was using his own keen brain to supply facts that The Shadow could have stated.
When Henshew finished, Chanbury indulged in a dry smile. He felt that he could still square himself with the law; and he had good reason to so believe. Shark Meglo lay dead upon the floor. Chanbury's eyes glistened when he viewed the body. Others were watching him; so Chanbury was prompt to declare:
'There lies a murderer! Henshew is the man who backed the killer! All that I did was to save innocent lives.'
'Except one!'
The Shadow's tone was sinister. Chanbury glared as he met the burning eyes. Turning to Eleanor, The Shadow spoke a question. Oddly his voice had changed its tone, so slightly that it was apparent only to the girl. Yet Eleanor, strained for the test to come, did not realize that she was again speaking to Kent Allard. She heard the quiet question:
'When did you reach this house last night?'
'At quarter of eight,' replied the girl. Without waiting for another question, she added: 'Mr. Chanbury said that he had retired early; but it couldn't have been as early as that. I thought that Mr. Chanbury was not here at quarter of eight.'
'He did not expect you so early?'
'No. He gave me the evening off. But Tyrune seemed to think that Mr. Chanbury had been here, or should have been. I'm not quite sure -'
The Shadow's voice interrupted. Again, with exceeding calmness, he asked:
'About the pass-key marked Exhibit A. Did Chanbury show it to Tyrune when he mentioned it?'
'No,' replied Eleanor. 'He started to look for it in the desk drawer but did not find it. I never saw the key until after Inspector Cardona came here, much later.'
'And in mentioning Henshew's apartment,' prompted The Shadow, 'did Chanbury merely suspect there was a hiding place behind the bookcase?'
'He said there was one,' returned Eleanor. 'But he said that before Tyrune told him that Henshew said nothing had been stolen from the apartment.'
HENSHEW was out of his chair, shaking his handcuffed wrists toward Chanbury as he shrilled:
'That tells it! Tyrune guessed what had happened. He knew you'd sneaked out of here to grab my gems.
You forgot to put back the pass-key, didn't you? Left it in your coat upstairs. And you topped it by mentioning the place behind the bookcase. That drove it through Tyrune's thick skull -'
'Silence him, Cardona!' snapped Chanbury. 'I have the gems. I have admitted the possession of them.
That proves -'
'That you murdered Jim Tyrune!' cackled Henshew, in insane enjoyment. 'He was honest. He was through with you. He was going to call Cardona when he got home. That's what he was starting to do at the telephone.'
Henshew settled back into his chair maddened by his own choking laughter. Above the crook's high-pitched chuckles came a more ominous mockery: the mirth of The Shadow.
Chanbury's fists were on the desk, his arms straining to support his body. He steadied; his knee raised slightly to nudge the buzzer below the desk top. Only The Shadow saw the motion. Rallied, Chanbury coughed his denial.
'You found Shark's mask,' he voiced to Cardona. 'That was proof against the killer -'
'A funny thing, that mask' inserted Cardona grimly. 'Come to think of it, it was the first one Shark ever dumped. You know, Chanbury, they sell lots of bandannas, in every five and ten. It's easy to cut slits in them too. Any one could do it.'
It was Joe's turn to talk and he was doing it. He stopped only to learn if Chanbury had something to say.
Defensively, Chanbury demanded:
'Why should I turn criminal? Look at this mansion - my art treasures -'
Chanbury stopped; he had seen The Shadow turn away. The Shadow was noting portraits on the wall.
As his eyes fixed upon one, The Shadow spoke:
'Faces from the past. I remember this one. Its owner thought the portrait was genuine; it was later declared a clever fraud. Perhaps he bought the original, but received the imitation -'
'Like my father did!' exclaimed Eleanor. 'His paintings were proven false! He couldn't believe it. That is why he committed suicide.'
'As Tyrune did!'
WITH those words, The Shadow's eyes met Eleanor's. His gaze called for action that The Shadow had told her would be needed. His back toward Chanbury, The Shadow was playing his master stroke. He was giving Chanbury an opening to betray himself without further proof.
Chanbury took it. Springing back from the desk, he yanked a gun from his pocket and aimed straight for The Shadow. The cloaked form faded; but its shift was unnecessary. Eleanor had acted at The Shadow's signal. She had the automatic from her pocket; she pressed the trigger before Chanbury could fire.
The crook staggered, a bullet in his elbow. Cardona and the detectives were surging for him. Their revolvers withered him as he tried to prop his right hand with his left. The grizzled crook rolled forward on the desk; toppled sideways and fell to the floor.
There was a clatter in the hall. Chanbury had counted on his servants; they were here, but too late to rescue him, thanks to the crippling shot that Eleanor had supplied. Crooks to the core, the armed invaders were willing to riddle Cardona's squad; but their chance never came.
Blackness blocked the door in front of them. Big automatics sprawled the foremost of the band. Others flung their guns aside; they cowered, arms raised in surrender. The Shadow's laugh echoed along the gallery. The lips of stolen portraits seemed to quiver in reply.
The mocking tone faded. Into the room came Chanbury's followers, herded by The Shadow. Detectives clapped handcuffs on them. Cardona drew Henshew from his chair. The prisoners began their slow march outward. Cardona ushered Eleanor from the room of death.
The girl gave one glance as she left. Faces from the past reflected her gaze: those wall portraits, to which Eleanor had become accustomed. But there were other faces here tonight, as stilled as painted ones.
They stared from the floor. Shark Meglo's, the face of a murderer; beyond that, the face of Michael Chanbury. Frozen in death, Chanbury's visage had lost its mask of pretense. Its hardened lines showed the murderous character of the man.
Madden Henshew, clever man of crime, had been trapped through the genius of a crook greater than himself.
The Shadow had allowed that outcome, that he might bring a similar disaster upon Henshew's crooked
