ground floor.
There, instead of leaving through the service entrance, The Shadow peered into the hotel lobby. He saw the porter's room, empty and dark as he expected.
In hotels like the Bayonne, the porter was seldom in his quarters. Usually, the
clerk summoned a porter when guests called for one.
Crossing the dim lobby of the Bayonne was easy for anyone inside the place, since only the doorman kept tabs on unlikely strangers.
Reaching the porter's room, The Shadow used his tiny flashlight and found exactly what he wanted: a cardboard box of the size used by florists. Removing his cloak, hat, and other accouterments, he packed them in the box and wrapped it.
He was Lamont Cranston when he stepped from the porter's room, the box beneath his arm; but the clerk did not notice his arrival until he was almost at the desk. Seeing a gentleman in evening clothes, the clerk supposed that he had entered by the main door.
Giving Cranston's name, The Shadow asked for Count Fondelac. The clerk called the suite where Five-face was entertaining his lieutenants, and soon announced that Mr. Cranston could go upstairs. Before turning to the elevators,
The Shadow laid his package on the desk.
'Kindly call the Cobalt Club,' he requested, in Cranston's style. 'Ask them to send my limousine over here. And by the way, will you turn this package
over to your doorman and ask him to deliver it to my chauffeur?'
Upstairs, Five-face was stepping out from behind the bar, which filled an alcove in his living room. He was urging his lieutenants to finish up their drinks. Gesturing to the alcove, he added:
'Get in here, all three of you, and keep quiet. I know this fellow Cranston; he's worth a few million bucks, and he's been invited to the reception. That's why he's stopping by. Watch me handle him.'
The lieutenants moved behind the bar. Five-face pulled the screen in place, completely hiding them, though they were able to see through the cracks and watch what happened in the living room.
There was a buzz from the door. Five-face answered it. Immediately, he was
Count Fondelac, sophisticated of face, bowing in manner, as he shook hands with
the gentleman whom he addressed as 'M'sieu' Cranston.'
Behind the screen, the lieutenants watched in admiration. It was impossible to guess that Fondelac was anyone other than himself. The same applied to Cranston, though they did not guess it.
Here was a historical meeting: The Shadow, foe of evil, shaking hands with
Five-face, master of crime, under the gaze of the super-crook's own lieutenants!
Fortunately, only The Shadow knew the full details of the situation.
Neither Five-face nor the others guessed his real identity.
Posing as Cranston, The Shadow invited Fondelac to ride with him to the reception, and the count agreed to go. But behind the mask of Fondelac, a keen brain was at work, and The Shadow knew it. He had expected that it would be.
Five-face was taking The Shadow's bait.
'Ah, M'sieu' Cranston' - Fondelac's tone had a pleasant purr - 'this is one excellent meeting. You are the man who can tell me what I wish to know. I have some French government bonds, which Albertina gave me, of which I must dispose, since Albertina insists that I never return to la belle France.
'Perhaps they would be a good exchange for some American securities. But I
know nothing' - he shrugged - 'of your investments here. I may lose money, but
-
pouf!' He snapped his fingers. 'What is money to me, when I have my Albertina?'
The question was logical enough, and provided its own answer. No one ever thought of Albertina Adquin except in terms of money, and that in big figures.
As Fondelac expected, Cranston showed immediate interest.
He asked more about the bonds. Fondelac recalled their year of issue, and finally set a price on them, which was about two thirds their actual value.
What he did not mention was the fact that he had already told his lieutenants; that the bonds in question were counterfeits.
'Suppose we meet tomorrow night,' suggested Cranston. 'We can get together
at the Cobalt Club, say about eight. Bring the bonds along, Count, and I shall have some American securities to show you.'
THE two were talking in hundred-thousand-dollar terms, as they left the suite together. It was Fondelac who closed the door; his face dropped its suavity, as he grinned back toward the screen and gestured to the hidden lieutenants.
Cranston had set the place, even the hour, which was all the lieutenants had to know. As soon as the door went shut, they came from hiding. Pushing back
the screen, Banker suggested that they have another drink before they cleared out.
'We'll do a sneak from here,' declared Banker, 'and get the mob away.
This
Fondelac stunt is the best bet that Five-face has staged yet. He can count on us
at the right time tomorrow.'
Outside the hotel, two members of the picked mob had sneaked away from the
rest. Cliff and Hawkeye were conferring in an alleyway, wondering why they hadn't heard from The Shadow. The lapse of time made them think that Fondelac had been abducted, and that The Shadow had run into grief trying to save him.
Suddenly, Hawkeye gripped Cliff's arm, pointed from the mouth of the alley
to the front of the hotel. The Shadow's agents stared in utter amazement at two
men who came from the main door and entered a waiting limousine.
One was Lamont Cranston, otherwise The Shadow. He was arm in arm with a suave-looking friend, who could only be Count Raoul Fondelac. Rescuer and victim were leaving the Hotel Bayonne as if nothing at all had happened!
There was added mystery when the agents rejoined the mobbies and found that the lieutenants had returned. It was Banker who simply said that the job was off and that the crew could have cash that had been promised them.
That Fondelac was Five-face did not occur to Cliff and Hawkeye. The fact would have puzzled them even more, considering Cranston's friendly departure with the pretended count. It would have told them, however, that tonight's strange events would bode even stranger consequences.
With The Shadow and Five-face matching wits in each other's company, anything might happen!
CHAPTER XVII
BEFORE EIGHT
IT was late afternoon and Commissioner Weston was leaving his office, accompanied by Lamont Cranston. All afternoon, Weston had been talking to the financiers who had been robbed by Barney Kelm, trying to get any sort of clues regarding the missing fight promoter.
With the Barney matter a total blank, Weston decided to check on previous cases, as a matter of routine, even though he had no expectations of results.
'We'll go to Breddle first,' said the commissioner, 'and see if anyone at the Diamond Mart can remember anything about Flush Tygert. After that, we can drop in at Melbrun's office and thrash over the case of Jake Smarley.'
The Shadow smiled at the commissioner's use of the word 'thrash.' The term
'hash' would have been better. Nevertheless, The Shadow was willing to encourage
Weston. He wanted the commissioner to be in the proper mood for the coming evening, when The Shadow intended to introduce the law to Count Fondelac and surprise the pretended nobleman in a fashion that would end his career as Five-face.
