mg.cyro-第4部分
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The Shadow wheeled。 Swiftly； he swept toward the door to the inner room。
Weirdly； he merged with the darkness beyond。
Then came a final crash against the outer door。 The barrier ripped from its hinges。 A broad…shouldered policeman came plunging through and sprawled head foremost on the floor。 Close at his heels sprang a stocky； swarthy…faced man brandishing a revolver。
It was Joe Cardona； acting inspector； ace sleuth of the New York police force。 Cover…up man for the cop who had crashed the door； Joe was ready with his gun； anxious to bead any crook who might use the officer for a target。 As he concluded a wide sweep with his gun arm； Joe Cardona came to a sudden stop。
While a policeman and a detective sergeant crowded in behind him； Joe stared at the prone form of Roke Rowden。 The others copied his example。 The big cop who had smashed the door picked himself up and joined in the gaze。 Joe looked toward the door of the inner room。
Advancing with leveled gun； the ace reached the inner door。 He pulled a flashlight and clicked it as he entered。 His sweeping glare showed that the room was empty。 Joe moved to the window。 He raised the sash and spread the glimmer through the lower courtyard。 Turning back； Joe clicked out his light and faced the detective sergeant who had followed him。
〃If anyone went that way； Markham；〃 said Cardona； 〃he's made his getaway。
There's nobody at the bottom of that fire escape。 e on back。 Let's take a look at the dead guy in the other room。〃
CHAPTER IV
THE MAN FROM DES MOINES
JOE CARDONA had missed his guess about the lower courtyard。 His powerful torch had thrown a broad glare into that silent space； but its rays had failed in their effectiveness。 Joe had missed the inner corner by the bottom of the fire escape。
Thus he had failed to see the one spot where a figure lurked。 The fringe of the flashlight's circle had stopped at the very feet of a shrouded form that had stood absolutely motionless。 It was not until Joe had given up the search that the blackened figure moved。
Swiftly； silently； The Shadow traveled through the passage to the street。
A taxicab was standing thirty feet from the opening。 For a moment； a darkened shape showed as it passed a street lamp。 Then the fleeting form reached the cab。 The Shadow stepped aboard。
〃Cobalt Club。〃
The order came in a quiet voice。 The driver nodded。 He had not heard the passenger enter； but he had expected this arrival。 Moe Shrevnitz； the driver of that cab； was in agent of The Shadow。 He had posted himself at this appointed spot in response to an order previously received。
EIGHT minutes later； the cab wheeled up in front of the exclusive Cobalt Club。 This time the door opened visibly。 A tall； stoop…shouldered man alighted。
He was wearing neither hat nor coat； his gray hair formed an untidy shock beneath the light of the marquee。
Moe Shrevnitz closed the door and drove along the street。 He had a delivery to make。 A bag was to go to the Metrolite Hotel； to be left there for Mr。 Lucaster。 Moe had brought the bag in his cab； empty。 Delivered； it would contain garments of black…hat； cloak and gloves…which the owner would later regain。
The stooped man with gray hair had entered the Cobalt Club。 An attendant stopped him。 Excitedly； the man spoke in a crackly voice：
〃The police missioner！ I must see him！ Tell him so； at once。〃
The attendant paused； doubtfully。
〃It is urgent；〃 came the plea。 〃Urgent！〃
〃Your name； sir？〃
〃Lucaster。 Mr。 Northrup Lucaster。 From Des Moines。 I must see missioner Barth。 Tell him I shall explain。〃
The attendant went to a card room。 He returned and nodded to the gray…haired man。 Lucaster started forward。 He encountered a tall； bald…headed individual who was ing from the card room。
〃Are you the police missioner； sir？〃 questioned Lucaster。
The bald…headed man paused to study the questioner through a pair of pince…nez spectacles。 He thrust his head forward with the manner of an eagle。
In a pompous tone； he declared：
〃I am Wainwright Barth…the police missioner。 You are the gentleman who asked to see me？〃
〃Yes。〃 The response was eager。 〃I am Northrup Lucaster。 Here is my card； missioner。 I am from Des Moines； Iowa。 A recently retired manufacturer…〃
〃Ah； yes。 And your purpose here？〃
〃Look； missioner。〃 Lucaster drew a large envelope from his pocket。 〃I have twenty…five thousand dollars here。 Fresh from the bank this very afternoon。 Men are seeking it…〃
〃Then why do you carry it with you？ Are holdup men on your trail？〃
〃No； no。 Swindlers！ They want me to bring the money to them。〃
〃Have you informed detective headquarters？〃
〃This afternoon； missioner。 Let me explain what has happened。 I had an appointment this evening with a man named Roke Rowden。 I was to bring this money to his apartment。 I suspected a swindle。 I called headquarters and talked to an inspector。 His name was Cardona…〃
〃Yes。 Go on。〃
〃He said that he would go in my place。 That he would trap the swindler。 I suppose that he has done so already。 But I have not heard from him。 I think that I should go there at once； to the apartment where Rowden lives。〃
〃Why so？〃
〃To identify Rowden after he is arrested。 The man is crafty； missioner。
But I made a mistake。 I drew my money before I notified headquarters。 I do not like to go to Rowden's。 missioner； the man is a most persuasive talker。 It was intuition only that made me believe him a swindler。 I can not leave this money at my hotel。 Yet I am afraid to carry it。 I learned that you might be here； at this club…〃
〃One moment； Mr。 Lucaster；〃 interrupted Barth。 The missioner's eyes were agleam with interest。 〃Where does this man Rowden reside。〃
〃At the Mallison Apartments。 Less than ten blocks from here。〃
〃And Cardona is already there？〃
〃He should be。〃
〃Very well；〃 decided Barth。 〃I shall acpany you there； Mr。 Lucaster。 My car is outside。 Let us start at once。 Your description of this swindler intrigues me。〃
A slight smile showed on the cracked lips of Northrup Lucaster。 A singular shadow swept across the floor as the gray…haired stranger stalked by the missioner's side。 The Shadow knew Wainwright Barth's penchant for viewing crime in person。 He had decided to bring the missioner into this case。
TWELVE minutes later； Detective Sergeant Markham burst into Rowden's living room； where Joe Cardona was watching a police surgeon make his examination of the body。 Markham was excited。
〃Lucaster's here；〃 he told Joe； 〃and the missioner is with him！ They're ing up。〃
〃Lucaster…with the missioner？〃 Joe evidenced surprise。
〃Both of them；〃 replied Markham。 〃That's why we couldn't get Lucaster at his hotel。 He got all excited and went to see the missioner。 They're ing now； Joe。〃
Markham stepped away from the door。 Ten seconds later； Wainwright Barth stepped into view； his face gleaming with interest。 Behind him was the gray…haired figure of Northrup Lucaster。
〃I learn that it is a case of homicide；〃 exclaimed Barth to Cardona。 〃I am glad that Mr。 Lucaster came to see me。 Let us hope that he can identify the body。 Ah； Mr。 Lucaster； is this the man？〃
Cardona watched Northrup Lucaster move falteringly toward the form。 He appeared greatly distressed at the sight of death。 His head nodded slowly； and his expression showed pity。
〃That is Roke Rowden；〃 he stated。 〃Poor chap。 I am sorry for him。 I…I hope you did not have to kill him…on my account。〃
〃He was dead when we crashed the door；〃 announced Cardona。 〃It looks a lot like suicide。 See that glass； broken on the floor； missioner？〃
〃What has that to do with it； Cardona？〃
〃I've seen other cases like it； missioner。 Fellow deciding to take poison。 Pills in this case； it would be。 They get so shaky they drop bottle； glass； or whatever they're holding。〃
〃And then？〃
〃They figure a gun the best way out。〃
〃Did you know this fellow； Cardona？〃
〃No。 But I've heard of him。 Mr。 Lucaster's identification settles it。 Roke Rowden was a con man； missioner。 But I'm not sure he mitted suicide。〃
〃Ah！ You have a clue？〃
〃Ask Mr。 Lucaster。〃
〃Why me？〃 questioned the Des Moines manufacturer； in a quivering tremor。
〃How should I have a clue？〃
〃From what you told me this afternoon。〃
Eyes glimmered as heavy eyelids blinked。 Joe Cardona did not catch the gleam。 The Shadow； in his pose as Northrup Lucaster； was careful to keep the light behind him when he faced Cardona。
〃I understand！〃 he exclaimed； in the crackly tone he had assumed。 〃There was a man to be here…with twenty…five thousand dollars； the same sum that I was to bring。 And yet〃…he paused…〃yet why should Rowden have been murdered？
He had no money。〃
〃No？〃 Cardona laughed。 〃You were falling for a con game； Mr。 Lucaster。 The man who was to be here must have been Rowden's pal。 They had the money； probably； and maybe…in fact； very likely…all of it was Rowden's。〃
〃I see。〃 A nod from the pretended Lucaster。 〃Perhaps they had an altercation。〃
〃That's it；〃 declared Joe。 〃The blind…that's the other fellow…may have figured that Rowden's dough was a better bet than yours。〃
〃Excellent deduction； Cardona；〃 mended Barth。 〃Have you any other clues？〃
〃This；〃 declared Joe； stepping to the desk。 〃It looks as though Rowden wrote it。〃
〃C…Y…R…O〃…Barth paused in his spelling。 The name is inplete； Cardona。〃
〃I don't think so；〃 responded the sleuth。 〃About a year ago； missioner； a couple of Scotland Yard men came here from London。 They told me about a swindler who was burning up the Continent。 A fellow who had gypped members of the nobility。 They said he called himself Cyro。〃
〃An odd name。〃
〃The one by which he was known to his confederates。 They said to watch out for him in New York。 Well； it looks like he's been here。
〃Yes。 I don't think a swindler of his class would have played for so small a stake as twenty…five grand。 But he might have had a grudge against Roke Rowden。 To bump Rowden and take the fellow's money…well； that could suit Cyro's style。 That's only my theory； missioner； but…〃
〃It is a good one； Card
