THE trip to the Diamond Mart took more than half an hour. It was nearly six when the commissioner and Cranston arrived at Melbrun's office, to find the
importer hard at work.
Melbrun was planning a trip to Buenos Aires, to open up new channels in South American trade. He had practically forgotten the matter of Smarley.
'I'll be tied up here for the next couple of hours,' said Melbrun.
'Suppose I see you tomorrow, commissioner. Of course, if the matter is important, I could stop by at the club this evening.'
'It is not important,' returned Weston. 'Besides, I shall not be at the Cobalt Club tonight. I have been invited to a banquet, and will have to go there.'
'Why not stop off anyway, Melbrun?' inquired The Shadow, in Cranston's fashion. 'I happen to have something urgent on my mind, and you are the very man to help me with it.'
'What can that be, Cranston?'
'Some French government bonds,' replied The Shadow. 'I intend to exchange some American securities for them. I would like the opinion of a man versed in international exchange. You are the very person, Melbrun.'
Melbrun agreed to be at the club soon after eight o'clock. The visitors left, and Weston promptly inquired why Cranston happened to be buying foreign bonds. The Shadow mentioned that he was purchasing them from Count Fondelac.
'I might suggest that you slip away from the banquet shortly before eight,' added The Shadow. 'I would like you to be present, too, commissioner.'
'Just why?'
'Because I don't trust Fondelac,' was the reply. 'It would also be an excellent idea to have Inspector Cardona outside, with a picked squad. But impress upon him that he is to restrain himself. Fondelac is very clever; he might have friends on hand to warn him if police were about. The fellow strikes
me as being an experienced swindler.'
The thing intrigued Weston. Watching the commissioner, The Shadow noticed his flickers of expression and read them correctly. Weston did not, in any wise, class Count Fondelac with such crooks as Smarley, Flush and Barney.
Therefore, the commissioner could be depended upon to handle his part of the job in smooth style.
Weston could be smooth enough under proper circumstances; and that applied
to a chance meeting at the Cobalt Club, where the commissioner was a member and
therefore likely to drop in at any time.
Dropping off at the club, The Shadow strolled about, looking over strategic spots. He knew that tonight's task would be no set-up. It wasn't just
a case of dealing with a smart swindler, as The Shadow had led Weston to believe. Five-face would have his usual quota of reserves, headed by his three lieutenants.
The master crook was anxious to dispose of the Fondelac personality; to efface it forever, as he had three others. He wouldn't care if he identified himself with mobbies in a spectacular style. The law had not guessed that three
previous crimes had been staged by one master crook.
Fondelac, of all people, would never be linked with Smarley, Flush or Barney, no matter how he staged the coming crime.
In looking over the setting, The Shadow remembered that his agents would be present, as actual members of a crooked horde. He saw ways in which they could play a part. When he called Burbank, The Shadow included special instructions that were to go to Cliff and Hawkeye.
Others, too, were given orders. Harry Vincent, long in The Shadow's service, was an agent who could come to the Cobalt Club at Cranston's invitation. Clyde Burke, a reporter on the New York Classic, was another who could logically be in this neighborhood. As for Moe, he and his cab would certainly be on hand.
Down the street was a small apartment house where a uniformed doorman could take a post without exciting suspicion. Tenants in the building would merely think that the management had decided to make the place fashionable. So The Shadow ordered Burbank to contact Jericho, a big African, and tell him to put on a fancy uniform for this evening.
Five-face would be walking into a double mesh when he came to the Cobalt Club as Count Fondelac. The police formed one net; The Shadow's agents, the other.
DINING as Cranston, The Shadow forgot the clock. Fondelac was to arrive at
eight, the hour that The Shadow had set for Melbrun. If anything, the count would probably be late, in keeping with his rather indifferent character.
Hence it was a mild surprise, even for The Shadow, when an attendant entered the grillroom, at quarter of eight, to announce that Count Fondelac had
arrived to see Mr. Cranston.
The grillroom was the proper meeting place. Telling the waiter to clear the table, The Shadow gave word to show Count Fondelac downstairs. When Fondelac arrived, he saw Cranston rising from the table, holding a leather portfolio beneath his arm.
'Sorry to be early,' purred Fondelac. 'But it is on account of Albertina.
She insists that she must go to the theater this evening. So instead of coming at eight o'clock, I find that I must leave by then.'
There wasn't a slip in Fondelac's manner to indicate that he had obtained any knowledge of The Shadow's preparations. It might be that his mention of Albertina was the truth, and not an alibi. In his turn, The Shadow was very careful to give no indication that he wanted to hold Fondelac past the hour stated.
Five-face produced the French bonds. They were very clever counterfeits, but they did not deceive The Shadow. He had been to his bank that afternoon and
had examined French bonds thoroughly. Glaring from Fondelac's bonds were various
errors, tiny to the ordinary eye but magnified to The Shadow's gaze.
In the detection of false securities, The Shadow had no equal. At Cranston's home in New Jersey he kept a collection of counterfeit stocks and bonds, trophies of his battles against crime. He had gone over them thoroughly,
this very morning, looking for samples of French forgeries.
There had been none in The Shadow's collection, though he had many varieties of worthless paper. At least, Five-face was using judgment in peddling a new brand of counterfeit, which had never before been foisted in America. But The Shadow's inspection of genuine French bonds enabled him to know that Five-face was going through with the swindle.
Five-face was supremely clever. Smart enough, in fact, to change his game at the last minute. The Shadow had foreseen that the crooked count might even walk in with genuine bonds, if he suspected Cranston's bait. To make this transaction complete, The Shadow had to be sure that the bonds were counterfeit, before he took them. That part of the game was certain.
Fondelac rated the bonds at two hundred thousand dollars, a third less than their face value. They were an issue that was soon to mature, and the French government would surely meet its obligation, Fondelac insisted, despite wartime conditions. Apparently convinced that the deal was a good one, The Shadow opened his portfolio.
He spread various issues in front of Fondelac: stocks in copper mines and established oil companies; bonds guaranteed by large, thriving concerns. He even helped Fondelac pick out the ones that seemed best. Then, in Cranston's style, The Shadow remarked:
'But this is only my opinion, Count. For your benefit, I have invited a gentleman named Arnold Melbrun to join us. I think that he will render an impartial judgment.'
There wasn't the slightest change on the face of Fondelac. His expression indicated that he had never heard of Melbrun. In fact, The Shadow did not expect such mention to bother Five-face. But there was another reason for Fondelac's indifference.
