The Shadow - Death Turrets Part 10

Swinging quickly from the door, The Shadow faced the rear of the laboratory. His hand went to his cloak to draw an automatic; then halted, short of the weapon.

Again, the tone of Lenley's chuckle sounded through the laboratory, but this time, the ugly chortle came from the inventor's own lips. At the open panel stood the bearded man, his eyes focused in a murderous glare.

On a level with Lenley's gritted teeth was his right hand. In its grip, a big revolver. His finger seemed itching to tug the trigger.

Lenley had staged some strategy of his own. He had taken the secret route to reach his laboratory. With his arrival, Lenley had found luck. He had opened the panel at the one moment that the noise could escape The Shadow's attention.

As a result, Lenley had gained an advantage that he relished. Here, far from all interference, the phony inventor had trapped The Shadow. Whatever his past career, this was one time when Robert Lenley planned cold murder.

The glare in Lenley's eyes spoke the words that his gloating lips found no need to utter: "Death to The Shadow!"

CHAPTER XV.

THE DEATH PIT.

THERE was one vantage that The Shadow always held when faced by a cool foeman of Lenley's sort. Scheming crooks knew of The Shadow's prowess in battle, but they had no information concerning the tactics he used when placed in a seemingly helpless position.

Lenley was not the first crook who had trapped The Shadow under circ.u.mstances such as these. There had been others, but they had not lived to describe what happened afterward.

To The Shadow, emergency demanded quick-formed strategy; he invariably used his wits more swiftly than the enemy. He was doing so upon this occasion, from the very instant when he saw that Lenley held the bulge.In some instances The Shadow would have performed a sudden fade, whipping out a .45 as he shifted. He had given crooks the benefit of the first shot on more than one occasion, and they had missed.

Such tactics might have worked with Lenley, but the odds were bad. The laboratory was too well-lighted, the s.p.a.ce near the door too cramped. That was one reason why The Shadow did not pull a gun.

There was another reason. The Shadow knew that Lenley preferred to postpone the death shot because of t.i.tus. Revolver fire would bring the servant; Lenley would have a hard time explaining a new death to t.i.tus, even if The Shadow happened to be the victim.

Lenley wanted to see the blame for murder shunted completely upon George Brendaw. That was possible, as long as t.i.tus did not consider Lenley to be a killer.

If Lenley should shoot The Shadow within the next few minutes, he would have to kill t.i.tus when the fellow arrived. Otherwise the servant would welsh.

t.i.tus was too valuable a man for Lenley to lose; he was counting upon the servant to support any fake story that might be necessary under later circ.u.mstances.

Lenley's preference, therefore, was to hold The Shadow helpless for a short while. Knowing it, The Shadow gave Lenley the opportunity to the full.

Slowly, The Shadow let his hands move away from his body. He raised his cloaked arms, to render himself totally helpless.

That brought a grin from Lenley. The crook had an exaggerated idea of his own ability. He gloated, thinking that he had proven himself master over The Shadow.

Without knowing it, Lenley played squarely into The Shadow's hands. The ease of his capture gave Lenley a new idea.

The Shadow was yellow, thought Lenley; that made things just right. If he could draw The Shadow into the secret room, the job would be quick and certain. Gunshots would be completely m.u.f.fled; Lenley could leave the body where it fell.

GAZING steadily, The Shadow could tell the crook's exact scheme. It happened that Lenley's move fitted with The Shadow's own plan. All that he wanted was a close-up opportunity to take Lenley off guard.

"Come straight ahead," ordered Lenley, "and keep your hands up. It'll be easier for you!"

Lenley lied; his own manner told it. Nevertheless, The Shadow advanced, his arms still higher, as though he trusted the counterfeiter's promise and wanted to curry good favor.

Lenley stepped to one side as The Shadow neared the open panel. The crook jammed his revolver muzzle against The Shadow's ribs and rasped a command to halt. He made no effort to frisk his prisoner, and the fact that Lenley did not bother to look for hidden guns told The Shadow exactly what to expect.

Lenley intended to deliver his death-shots as soon as The Shadow was past the open panel.

There was one triumph, however, that Lenley could not resist. With his free hand, the inventor whipped off The Shadow's slouch hat and scaled it through the opening into the secret room. With a snarl, he told The Shadow to face about. Sight of Allard's countenance produced a grin from Lenley.

"I thought you were a phony," sneered Lenley. "I had you labeled for a Fed, not for The Shadow. When I saw you go out to-night, I figured maybe you were coming here. That's why I went upstairs first, and doubled down through.

"Been doing a lot of snooping, haven't you? Well, you didn't find this gat that I had buried under the printing press!" Lenley nudged with the gun.

"So that makes it even. I guess you didn't find anything that would do you any good."

"I found the rifle." The Shadow spoke in the calm tone of Allard. "The one in the lookout room, at the front of the house."Lenley's eyes glittered. For the first time, they showed a nervousness.

Then, with an attempt at unconcern, Lenley snapped: "Trying to bluff me? I'll look into it. We'll talk about it later. Move on through there, and get in the corner. I'm going to tie you up a while."

The last remark was Lenley's idea of a bluff. As The Shadow stepped into the darkened secret room, the crook reached for the panel. He released a catch, so that it would slide shut as soon as his free hand moved away.

His gun against The Shadow's back, Lenley intended to shove through and riddle the victim with bullets, the instant that the panel snapped in place.

LENLEY'S face betrayed his purpose, but The Shadow could not see the bearded man's eager glare. That did not matter to The Shadow; instead, it lulled Lenley. The Shadow was ready for a move that the crook did not suspect.

There was a ledge along the wall, at the spot below the panel, an upright base only a few inches high. Lenley expected The Shadow to step over it, and he did, with one foot. When his next step followed, The Shadow performed an artful trip, one so natural that Lenley never realized that it was faked.

Before the crook could trigger his gun. The Shadow had pitched forward in a long sprawl, away from the gun muzzle. His arms extended, his dive took him into the blackness of the secret room. The Shadow's head ducked forward.

Darkness seemed to rise to envelop him within its folds.

A snarl from Lenley. The crook performed the very deed that The Shadow expected. Not guessing the ruse, Lenley thought that his best opportunity was to spring for The Shadow in the darkness; to shoot him before he could recover from his fall.

Just as The Shadow hit the floor, Lenley bounded through the opening, letting the panel ride shut.

The next thrust came as the panel clicked, closing both antagonists in pitch darkness. Lenley jabbed his gun downward and fired. His bullet bashed the concrete floor.

The Shadow had turned his sprawl into a sideward roll. He was no longer at the spot where Lenley had placed him. Then, before the crook could take new aim. The Shadow's feet swung together with a forward clip. One foot hooked Lenley's ankles; the other caught the crook's shins.

With a powerful scissors motion, The Shadow sprawled Lenley half across the room.

Before Lenley could recover, The Shadow rolled upon him. He wanted Lenley alive, with no more chance at gunfire. Uncannily, The Shadow found Lenley's right hand, its forefinger off the gun trigger. A moment later, he had the weapon out of the crook's grasp.

Lenley locked, fighting to regain the revolver. His strength was that of desperation. Sheer frenzy enabled Lenley to hurl back The Shadow's arm and lock with him in a furious grapple.

The fighters came to their feet beside the wall. All the while, Lenley managed to stave off the slugging blow that The Shadow wanted to deliver as settlement of the conflict.

FOR the moment, the fight seemed equal; then The Shadow gave ground.

This was new strategy. He wanted Lenley to overtax himself, to bring about a situation in which The Shadow could gain a new jujutsu hold.

With a hoa.r.s.e gulp of hopeful triumph, Lenley drove The Shadow to a corner at the front of the room. The Shadow's shoulders. .h.i.t the wall; there, they braced.

The Shadow's hand released Lenley's gun. The crook heard the revolver clatter to the floor. He felt The Shadow's shoulders shift downward, in a motion that Lenley mistook for a sag. The murderer clutched for The Shadow's throat. Two trip-hammer arms came up to block him. Then The Shadow's own fists had the grip they wanted. His body tightened.

Lenley took a long, spinning lunge that would have knocked him senselesshad his head struck first. That was the way The Shadow intended it, but Lenley's dive carried him to the base of the printing press, where his shoulder took the brunt of the blow.

Lenley flattened with a groan. When he looked up, he saw the Shadow's flashlight blink from the front corner of the room.

The battle at that moment was The Shadow's. Victory was so certain that he stooped to pick up Lenley's gun. The flashlight gleamed upon Lenley's bearded face; the crook looked barely capable of motion. His right arm moved mechanically as it flopped toward the s.p.a.ce beneath the press where Lenley had earlier picked out his revolver.

The Shadow remained motionless, still in the front corner. If Lenley had another gun, he would find no chance to use it. The moment his hand emerged from under the press, The Shadow could spring upon him.

But Lenley's hand did not have to come out. His fingers had found something else they wanted; a hidden lever. Lenley tugged it.

The effect was instantaneous. A square slab parted beneath The Shadow's feet. As he felt the floor give way, The Shadow shoved his hand for the front wall, to propel himself to safety. The wall split inward as his hand arrived.

Its opening action was timed with the motion of the floor.

Two doorlike traps had swung together, and The Shadow's instinctive try for safety carried him into the double jaws of the trap. Forward, downward, he went, in the exact direction that Lenley had designed, into a lower sub-cellar that formed a s.p.a.ce in the house wall.

LENLEY had provided that burial spot to receive unwanted visitors. That was why he had forced The Shadow to the front corner. He had hoped to leave his foeman groggy, while he sprang the trap. The Shadow had frustrated that purpose, but sheer luck had given the crook a better opportunity than the one that he had hoped to gain.

In the s.p.a.ce of a mere second, The Shadow realized the danger that lay below and did his best to avoid it. His arms thrust outward to break his fall.

They served, in part, for the drop was a short one, but The Shadow's head took a side jolt against a lower wall. The thump stunned him, a dozen feet below the cellar level.

Head tilted back, The Shadow reached mechanically for an automatic, in case Lenley followed, intending to shoot it out. Dimly, there came double sounds from above. The floor had swung up into place; the walls had locked tight shut. Weakly, The Shadow sank back against the slime-oozed wall.

It was a full minute before The Shadow's swimming senses could steady.

Even then, he stumbled when he tried to rise. He gripped the wall; his fingers slipped from its surface. It would be a hard grind, working up from this pit.

A few efforts made The Shadow pause to rest. He needed steadier senses before he could begin the task. Through The Shadow's brain throbbed the thought that he could eventually clamber to that split floor above and force it open. That done, he would be ready to meet Lenley in another fray.

But, with that drilling thought, The Shadow sensed another probability: that Lenley might not be content to merely leave him here a prisoner. If Lenley had some ingenious way of delivering death below, the odds would lie with the bearded inventor.

LENLEY had that way. Already, the murderer was making ready to use it.

In the darkness of the secret room above, bearded lips gave a new gloat of triumph, as Lenley rose to his feet beside the printing press.

The springing of that trap was merely the first of Lenley's moves. There was another stroke to follow; one that Lenley had arranged when he first prepared that emergency snare.

Though he had never expected to receive The Shadow as a prisoner below, Lenley had designed a manner of quick doom that would be swift enough to frustrate the escape of even that formidable foe.

Five minutes was all that Lenley required to turn the prison cell into apit of absolute doom. That period ended, no living creature could exist within those lower walls. Ready for his next action, Lenley could foresee but one possible result.

That would be the death of The Shadow. This trap was one that even The Shadow could not survive!

CHAPTER XVI.

MURDER WINS AGAIN.

IT took Lenley a half minute of groping to find the panel that opened into the laboratory. When he found it, he slid the panel aside and sprang into the lighted room, letting the tricky barrier close behind him. Once in the lab Lenley's speed became feverish.

There was a satanic expression on the inventor's bearded face when his hurrying hands poured synthetic gasoline into the fuel tank that topped the motor. That done, Lenley made quick adjustments; gave a spin to the small crank. The motor began to sputter; the bearded man moved the throttle. The result was a steady rhythm.

From beneath a workbench, Lenley brought a huge monkey wrench. His leer was more evil than ever, as he approached the lower pipe that led into the wall. That was the exhaust pipe; Lenley had said that it led up through the ground. It did, when the line was tight, but when it leaked, the result was different.

Clamping the wrench around the casing of the pipe, Lenley gave a series of powerful tugs. The casing came clear; the bearded man loosened the inner pipe. That done, he twisted the casing just tight enough to enter the wall. He laid the big wrench on the table beside the mounted motor.

Lenley's face told the ugly deed that he had accomplished. The exhaust pipe led through the secret prison room. By loosening it, Lenley had caused the motor's deadly fumes to pour into the cell that held The Shadow.

Five minutes of that treatment would be sufficient. Lenley had long ago calculated the time required to fill the hidden cell with carbon monoxide. It would be death for The Shadow, the one person whose presence Lenley really feared.

For a few moments, Lenley was satisfied; then a frown showed on his forehead. He tilted his head to listen for sounds from the prison room. Any that came were drowned by the purr of the motor.

Perhaps it was the heat of the engine that brought the beads of sweat to Lenley's forehead, but the thoughts in the crook's mind might have accomplished that result.

Lenley wasn't satisfied. Five minutes was a long time, when The Shadow was concerned. Lenley mopped his forehead; stared steadily at the motor. His soured lips spread in a new smile.

Reaching to the upper pipe, Lenley turned the valve with his fingers.

The new adjustment of the vaporizer brought snorts from the motor, but it did not stall. Fumes would be thicker from that skipping engine. The Shadow's time of life was lessened.

BELOW, The Shadow recognized his plight.

The cloaked prisoner was on his feet. He had found his flashlight; was studying the confines of his narrow cell. The Shadow could scent the sweetish odor of the motor's fumes; he knew that with them came a heavy content of deadly carbon monoxide.

That murderous gas was heavier than air. Creeping up from the floor, it would bring sure death by the time it filled the cell. There was no way to stop it, for the top of the cell was equipped with a metal grating, its slats barely wide enough for fingers to enter.

The pipe was above that griddle, where The Shadow could not reach to plug the leak.The grating ended against a solid metal beam. To the left was a s.p.a.ce of smooth ceiling, split by a narrow crack. That was the trapdoor through which The Shadow had dropped. The Shadow saw a way to get at that exit. He began an operation that was almost superhuman.

Clutching the slippery wall, The Shadow actually clawed his way upward.

He lost his hold near the top, and dropped back to the floor. Again, he made the attempt. This time, he managed to thrust out one hand and wedge his fingers into the grating.

Clinging with his powerful fingers, the prisoner swung his other hand to grip the grating.

The fumes were pouring from directly above The Shadow's head. Holding his breath, he clung to the grilled ceiling, swaying back and forth like a human pendulum. The strain of that test seemed too great for fingers to bear, but The Shadow did not fall. Instead, he performed a new move that was more phenomenal than the first.

Lowering one hand, he thrust it farther along the ceiling to seek a new hold. The other hand followed. Using his fingers as grippers, The Shadow was literally walking along the ceiling, to reach the closed trapdoor!