Shadow was at work, he heard faint sounds of the elevator making a descent.
That meant that Pinkey Findlen had arrived to hold conference, in Ondrey's
office.
The elevator was at the bottom of the shaft when the trapdoor came free.
The taut cable offered a means of rapid descent. Hand under hand, The Shadow went downward, until he found a resting place upon the solid top of the elevator.
On his previous visit to Ondrey's office, The Shadow had observed that the
wall panel was slightly higher than the elevator. Reaching from the top of the car, he probed in front of it, until he found a catch. The panel was released; but The Shadow did not spread its sections.
Instead, he was content with a mere quarter inch of space, that enabled him to peer into the office and overhear what passed there.
The Shadow was correct in his assumption that Pinkey had arrived. The big-shot occupied the center of the office and two others were present with him. One was Claude Ondrey; the other, Slick Thurley.
It happened that Bugs Hopton was absent; and from the conversation, it came apparent that the leader of the strong-arm crew was not expected.
'Tonight, we frame Bron.' Pinkey made that statement in positive tone.
'The way we'll handle it, the job will be the neatest one we've staged. There won't be a chance of The Shadow mooching in to queer it.'
Slick Thurley added a nod; he knew the general plan, but Claude Ondrey hadn't yet heard the details. His fat face showed worry; he was mopping sweaty spots from his baldish forehead.
'Don't get jittery,' rasped Pinkey. 'We ain't yanking you into it, Ondrey!
Bugs Hopton is the guy that's going to start things.'
'Which means a mob,' reminded Ondrey, 'and that may bring cops - and The Shadow.'
'Not tonight,' assured Pinkey. 'Bugs is working alone. Just so you'll be posted, I'll give you the set-up.'
Pinkey began his explanation.
'First of all,' he declared, 'Bron is going to be in his office until midnight. He's cleaning up an auditing job, so he can go over the World Oil interests books tomorrow. What's more, we know that Bron will be alone in his office. That's where Bugs will walk in on him.'
ONDREY'S nervousness returned. Pinkey gave a harsh laugh;
'Bugs won't begin by pulling a gat,' declared the big-shot. 'He's going to
hand Bron a letter of recommendation given to him by a sap named Roy Parrington.
Bron will think that Bugs has come to ask for a job.'
'Parrington?' questioned Ondrey, suddenly. 'I seem to know that name.'
'Maybe you do,' returned Pinkey. 'Parrington goes around to a lot of bright spots; he's probably been here. He's an advertising promoter; at least, that's what he calls himself. But he spends most of his time playing the races.
That's how Bugs got acquainted with him - by giving him tips on the ponies.'
'And Parrington knows Bron?'
'Of course. That's why Bron won't be suspicious when he sees the letter.
But he won't have a job for Bugs. That'll make Bugs mad.'
For the first time, Ondrey showed a smile. Evidently, he had begun to picture certain fine points of this game.
'You know what Bugs is like when he pretends he's goofy,' reminded Pinkey.
'They call him 'Bugs' because of the way he can stage the nut act. From then on,
its a cinch!'
'Bron will get scared and try to heave him out. Bugs will yank a gat and Bron will make a grab for it. There'll be a blank shot and - blooey! - Bugs will be flopped like he was dead with Bron holding the rod.'
It was Slick who put in the next approval.
'Bugs can fake that dead stuff as good as I can,' declared Slick. 'We've both seen so many boobs get croaked that we know the way it looks.'
Pinkey strode across the floor, pointing here and there, picturing the future scene.
'Suppose this is Bron's office,' he declared. 'There's Bugs on the floor; Bron standing over here, with the heater in his mitt. The door opens; I step in, like some guy who heard the shot from another office.
'While I'm listening to Bron, like I was friendly and believe his story, in comes Slick. He flashes that badge of his, says he's Bill Quaine, the dick.
Only he won't believe Bron's story. He'll talk about pinning a murder rap on the guy.'
'That's when I'll have the way to fix it. I'll tell Bron what I want done,
and that if he'll play ball he won't have to worry about nothing. Tomorrow, he'll put his O.K. on those books over at World Oil.'
Pinkey's story was finished, and from Ondrey's delighted look, the big-shot was sure that the scheme would work. Ondrey was not the only listener who nourished that opinion.
From his hiding place, The Shadow had heard all the details and could foresee the result, once the game reached completion.
Obviously, Lewis Bron would realize that he was framed by the time Pinkey came to the climax; but that wouldn't help the auditor out of his dilemma. If Bron believed that he had actually shot Bugs and that Slick was really Bill Quaine, the game would work. Knowing the skill with which Pinkey and his pals worked, The Shadow was sure that they would sell Bron on the proposition, provided nothing intervened to disturb their scheme. It happened, though, that crooks would be due for a surprise; because The Shadow saw a way to provide one.
The Shadow, too, could be witness to all that occurred. When the game came
to its high point, he could step in with a brace of guns and corner both Pinkey
and Slick. Bugs on the floor, would never dare a move.
A call to police headquarters would bring Joe Cardona, Manhattan's ace police inspector. Fuming crooks would be trapped, with their whole game exposed.
WHILE The Shadow was speculating on that pleasant prospect, Pinkey stepped
toward the elevator. The Shadow pressed the panel tight; rolled to the top of the car.
Pinkey slid the panel wide; The Shadow could hear him entering the elevator alone. Pinkey's words were also plain.
'I'm going over to watch Bron's office,' he told the others. 'You can come
along later, Slick - say in about forty minutes, because Bugs won't be due until
eleven o'clock.
'You look too much like Bill Quaine to be seen around Bron's place until you're needed. You might bump into some harness bull who knows that Quaine is away on vacation.'
The panel went shut. The elevator moved smoothly upward carrying its two passengers. It was a curious situation - Pinkey Findlen starting off on a criminal venture, taking The Shadow right along with him. Pinky hadn't the remotest idea that such a case existed.
Nor did The Shadow disillusion him. When the car reached the top of the shaft, he waited while Pinkey went out though the door. After that, The Shadow stretched upward and opened the trap above his head, to emerge upon the roof.
Pinkey was gone by the time The Shadow reached the street below. There wasn't any reason to trail him, for the big-shot was going to the very spot where The Shadow wanted him to be. Shifting through the darkness, The Shadow reached a waiting cab. Entering it, he whispered to the agent who was at the wheel.
That aid was Moe Shrevnitz, the speediest hackie in Manhattan, but Moe didn't hurry on this occasion. He drove at an easy pace; while The Shadow contacted Burbank by radio. Over the short-wave set, The Shadow learned Bron's office address. It was in a small office building on Thirtieth Street.
The Shadow instructed Burbank to send an agent, Harry Vincent, to the Bubble Club, in case of chance developments there. That done, he put away the shortwave and gave Moe the street address.
But the cabby didn't stop when they reached the destination. Instead, he merely slackened speed near the
