The Shadow - Washington Crime Part 5

Creelon nodded. Blandly, he told how he had posed as Agent F-3. From his own statement, he practically admitted that he had murdered the real F-3 in Paris. That did not shock Bryland. Instead, it brought a sparkle of evil approval from the ex-major's deep-set eyes.

FROM the Argus mirror, The Shadow could see a tightening of Creelon's straight lips. The master-spy was coming to the matter of business; but he was cagily avoiding mention of the NEC until he had sounded Creelon further.

"Nina Valencita came here after she saw you," informed Creelon. "She said that a girl was with you at the Apollo Club; that the girl saw her and did not like it."

Bryland grimaced; shrugged his shoulders.

"The girl was Martha Leeth," he said. "The congressman's daughter. She made a scene, and it looked bad. There were people about."

"Did they see Nina talking to you?"

"Yes. But I doubt that it mattered. Nina Valencita is well accepted inall Washington circles."

Creelon arose; shook his head as he stepped toward the fire to warm his hands. Facing about, the spy looked toward Bryland. From the mirror, The Shadow could see the false ruddiness that came to Creelon's features. All that they needed was the evil smile; then the firelight would give them their satanic glow.

"I am not sure about Nina," expressed Creelon, slowly, still preserving his straight-lipped pose. "She is reliable; otherwise I would not have employed her. But her status in Washington may be less established than I supposed. Her trip to Spain, during the revolution there, was the sort of expedition that would have placed her name on a doubtful list.

"I think that you should have an alibi to cover your meeting with Nina.

Therefore, I have provided these. Nina wrote them hastily while she was here; but they will suffice. Particularly because she showed skill in writing love notes."

Creelon produced a small packet of note papers. Bryland scanned them, he recognized the handwriting of Nina. He smiled as he read them; nodded approvingly.

"All back dated," he remarked. "They certainly convey the impression that Nina was once in love with me. They go well with this note that she had delivered to me at the Apollo Club, saying that it was important for me to see her."

BRYLAND produced the note in question; showed it to Creelon and added it to the fake love letters. He started to put the batch in his inside pocket; stopped because of a sealed envelope that bulked there. The Shadow saw an avaricious sparkle in the eyes of Hugo Creelon. The spy knew that Bryland's big envelope could contain the NEC.

"I shall place these letters where they can be found," a.s.serted Bryland, "if any one - suspecting my meeting with Nina - should search my apartment. I shall have no trouble covering my visit here. Martha Leeth and I are supposedly at the theater this evening."

"What about the girl?" quizzed Creelon. "Will she support your story?"

"She does not have to," chuckled Bryland. "I took her home instead of to the theater. I purposely made her angrier than before. That put her in a tantrum. I told her that she was a snippy child, that I would telephone later, to receive her apology. She retorted that she would not answer the telephone, no matter how often it rang. The rest of the family is away. Calls to the Leeth home will therefore be ignored."

Bryland was explaining the exact reason why Vic Marquette had called the Leeth house without result. Bryland's arrangement pleased Creelon. He waited to hear if the thief had more to say. Bryland's silence made it apparent that he had finished. Creelon spoke. He questioned: "You obtained the NEC complete?"

"I did," replied Bryland. "Exactly as I took it from Follingsby's apartment."

"You have kept it intact?"

"Precisely as I found it."

"You have made no copies of it?"

"None. Not only did I lack the time to do so; but I had no reason to make copies. I might add - needlessly, perhaps - that no one other than myself has even seen the NEC since I acquired it." Creelon eyed Bryland steadily; then questioned in choppy tone: "What is your price?"

"One million dollars!"

Creelon did not flex a muscle when he heard Bryland's demand. He gave the price consideration; then snapped his answer: "Too high!"

Bryland delivered an indulgent laugh; steadied his hands to rise from his chair.

"It is worth two million," he told the spy. "You will probably receive more for it. I warn you, Creelon, that my offer will not be lowered."

On his feet, Bryland placed his hand to his inside pocket, gripped the fat envelope and added: "My next price will be one million two hundred thousand dollars. I consider that the danger of keeping the NEC should be worth the difference."

CREELON remained immobile. Through the mirror, The Shadow watched the spy intently. Creelon looked almost ready to accept the million dollar terms. If he did, the NEC might change hands before The Shadow's eyes.

That would force the issue. The Shadow had steadied; he had already determined to undertake battle, if necessary, even against odds. The present seemed to offer The Shadow the sole opportunity that remained to him. He knew that he could reach the reception room, enter there and cover both Creelon and Bryland while they still stood together, their transaction uncompleted.

One against two. Small odds for The Shadow. He was weak, though; and these adversaries were men of the most dangerous sort. Balancing that, however, was a factor that could serve The Shadow. He could attack by surprise, startling both crooks by the sight of an enemy whom they believed already dead.

The Shadow drew back slowly from the plate gla.s.s; then paused. It was neither weariness nor uncertainty that halted him. His eyes fixed themselves first upon Creelon, then on Bryland. In each face, The Shadow saw something that enlightened him; yet which neither of the trading crooks noted in the other.

The lips of Hugo Creelon were beginning the insidious smile that could transform the spy's face into that of a Mephistopheles. The square-jawed features of Frederick Bryland had taken on a firmness that meant more than mere stubbornness.

For some reason, both were confident that the other would come to terms.

Through The Shadow's brain flashed the double answer. He foresaw exactly what was due; he could tell the sort of trump cards that these crooks would play.

That was why The Shadow made no farther move. He remained in his position behind the Argus mirror.

Creelon's features showed their satanic contour more plainly. Bryland noted it; saw the spy's hand move toward the wall. Still gripping his inside pocket with his left hand, Bryland shot his right toward his side pocket. His move was hopelessly late.

Creelon had buzzed a signal with a hidden b.u.t.ton beside the fireplace.

Purple curtains ripped from the walls of the reception room. In surged Creelon's crew of huskies.

Bryland had no chance against the inrush. He was unable to twist away as The Shadow had done, the night before. Attackers struck him in a solid ma.s.s; s.n.a.t.c.hed his revolver from his fist before it was half from his pocket. Theyrolled him to the floor; pinned his arms behind him and hoisted him upright for Creelon to see.

Gloating, Creelon stepped forward; he plucked the big envelope that projected plainly from Bryland's inside pocket. Harshly, Creelon hissed: "You fool! If you had named a reasonable price, I would have paid you! A million dollars! Bah! You will be content with nothing! You can have your life, because your death would be of no consequence to me.

"Go! Denounce me if you dare! Your statement that I hold the National Emergency Code will be a confession of your own theft. No one will believe that I, the guest of a great emba.s.sy, could be an international spy."

The strong-arm squad was ready to drag Bryland away. Creelon restrained them. To complete his triumph, he wanted to flaunt the stolen NEC in the face of the tricked thief who had lost it. The envelope in Creelon's hands was a prize that Bryland could not hope to reclaim.

Nor could The Shadow gain it. He had pa.s.sed his opportunity.

Nevertheless, he waited behind the mirror. Creelon's elation might have changed to puzzlement had he seen The Shadow. The spy's look would have altered, too, had he bothered to look at Bryland, for the ex-major still showed a grim smile.

Creelon, however, was thinking of nothing but the envelope. He ripped it open; hissed his triumph as he tugged thick-folded papers from within. With hands that showed eagerness, Creelon spread the folds to gain his first gaze at the stolen NEC.

It was then that the master-spy stood rigid; his demoniac features soured.

Even from the mirror, The Shadow could see the cause of Creelon's suppressed rage, for the firelight's glow showed the papers that Creelon held.

Frederick Bryland had tricked Hugo Creelon; the thief had made the spy overplay his game. The tight-packed papers from the envelopes were blanks!

Bryland had not brought the precious NEC to Creelon's lair!

CHAPTER IX.

THE WAY OUT.

BRYLAND'S ruse had worked with Creelon, but not with The Shadow. Watching the events that had preceded the climax, The Shadow had pictured the surprise that was due, and with it, he gained new opinions of the two crooks.

Bryland, to date, had seemed more of an opportunist than a conniver.

Creelon had more or less established himself as a master of intrigue. That situation was changed. Comparing the pair, The Shadow conceded that Bryland could be the more dangerous.

The ex-major was a lone worker; one who relied on his own wits. He would dare anything. His attack on The Shadow at the Hotel Halcyon had not been sheer madness. Bryland had calculated the consequences before making the attempt. He had pulled out of that jam neatly. He was ready to do the same in his present situation.

As for Creelon, it was plain that his international reputation was exaggerated. True, the spy could scheme; but only in a prearranged fashion, as he had done when he posed as Agent F-3. Creelon's tactics were like those of a prize fighter who telegraphs his punches. Any one expecting sharp work from Creelon, could be prepared for it. That was where Bryland had held an advantage over The Shadow. Bryland had known that he was going to meet Creelon. If The Shadow had suspected that the supposed F-3 was actually Creelon, he could have handled the master-spy accordingly.

Creelon's real trumps were his precautions. The safe pose as F-3, his present residence in a foreign emba.s.sy; the constant support of a strong-arm crew, those were the factors that made the master-spy formidable.

His fists clutching a sheaf of blank papers, Creelon was faced with the problem of dealing anew with Bryland. The Shadow was convinced that the spy would not outsmart the ex-major. Bryland was cool enough to counter either craftiness or threats.

Creelon began with strategy. He managed to repress the demonish scowl that adorned his face. Straightening his lips, he faced Bryland; then gave an imperious gesture. The huskies released the major; they slouched off through the curtains.

Creelon called back the fellow who had taken Bryland's gun. Holding the weapon by the barrel, Creelon began to tap his other palm with the gun handle.

"You are clever, major," complimented Creelon, in a choppy tone. "I admire cleverness. Therefore, I shall give you another chance. Bring me the code. I shall pay you a half million for it."

Bryland's retort was a head tilt; a laugh in Creelon's face. It showed his contempt for such a promise.

"Perhaps you would like the money first," suggested Creelon. "Very well.

Nina will bring it to you. She will receive the code in its place."

A headshake from Bryland. The thief announced: "The price is still a million dollars."

"A million, then," shrugged Creelon. "Let us forget this haggle over price. Notify me when and where you wish to meet Nina. She will be there."

"It seems quite curious, Creelon," observed Bryland, "that you would so willingly trust Senorita Valencita with so large a sum as a million dollars.

What guarantee would I have that she would reach me?"

"Nina will be watched," declared the spy. "My men are unsuspected in Washington. They will follow her; close in immediately, if she offers the slightest trouble -"

Creelon broke off. Bryland was eyeing him with a wise smile. As the spy chewed his stiffened lips, Bryland derided him.

"Your men will be close," sneered the thief. "Close enough to seize Nina; therefore, close enough to capture me again, as they did to-night! It is too thin, Creelon! Suppose that I suggest the way that the exchange is to be made."

Creelon's reply was a quick step backward. The spy gave a twist to Bryland's revolver; had the ex-major covered in an instant. As he confronted Bryland in that fashion, Creelon snarled: "I shall make the terms! You are helpless here! I shall hold you, while my men search your premises!"

"They will never find the place where the code is hidden."

"You think not?" Creelon's glare was livid. "Suppose I worm it from you with torture, Bryland. I have done it with others, more stubborn than you."

"Quite useless. I have placed the code where you cannot gain it. I took precautions before I came here. In fact, if I do not leave here within the next thirty minutes, the National Emergency Code may be destroyed!"

BRYLAND'S statement was emphatic. It impressed Creelon; made him wonder what measures Bryland had chosen. The spy pictured the NEC as hidden in some mechanical contrivance that contained a time-fuse, ready to burst with flame and consume the stolen doc.u.ment at a given hour. The Shadow, however, was not deceived. He knew that Bryland was depending upon sheer bluff. Again, the smooth thief was outguessing the master-spy.

Bryland watched Creelon; waited until the proper moment, then spoke in persuasive tone.

"Why not be reasonable about this matter?" he queried. "You have gone at it wrongly, Creelon. You placed the burden upon me, instead of yourself. That was a mistake. I have the NEC. My position is dangerous. Therefore, I should be the one to make the deal."

Creelon considered. He decided to listen further.

"We have settled on the price," declared Bryland, briskly. "You run no risk in giving me the money. I would prefer to rid myself of the National Emergency Code. If I tried to keep it, you could easily block me from selling it elsewhere."

"Quite true," admitted Creelon, dryly. "Provided that you actually have the NEC. There is still a chance that you were merely smart enough to claim its ownership when Nina questioned you."

This brought a smile from Bryland.

"We can both be safe, Creelon," he remarked. "You have already negotiated with a certain foreign power; you are living here, at that nation's own legation. You have merely to arrange for that power to have a million dollars waiting elsewhere."

"Elsewhere?"

"Yes. At its legation in another country, of my choice. Prove to me that the money will actually be there; that I shall have no difficulty obtaining it.

I can then leave immediately for the designated place."

"But the code -"

"Will be here in Washington. In a spot where you can easily obtain it. I shall advise you of the place after I begin my journey. If you do not find it intact, you can denounce me."

The plan was reasonable. Creelon's own expression admitted the fact.

Bryland, moreover, knew that he was safe; for he was forcing the emba.s.sy to take part in the deal. The thief felt sure that such a measure would protect him.

Creelon, however, saw one objection. The emba.s.sy would be in a hot spot, if forced to denounce Creelon should he fail to deliver the code. At the same time, he was figuring a way out of that difficulty.

"I think that matters can be arranged," he decided. "I shall have to discuss it with certain persons here. Tomorrow night would probably be the earliest time for a decision."

"That will be soon enough," expressed Bryland. "I can a.s.sure you that the NEC will be safe until you need it."

CREELON took the barrel of the revolver that he still held. He extended Bryland's weapon to its owner; pressed a b.u.t.ton on the far side of the fireplace. The two rogues chatted until the secretary appeared. Creelon ordered him to conduct Bryland below. After the two had gone, Creelon went to an inner room.

That fact pleased The Shadow. It meant that Creelon would not immediately learn of the bad luck that Jarruth had encountered. There was still time for The Shadow to find a way out from this lair where he had been held captive. It was imperative, too, that The Shadow take up Bryland's trail.

Moving from his place behind the gla.s.s, The Shadow reached the hallway door without trouble. Gripping Jarruth's gun, he stepped into the pa.s.sage. The door of the prison room was still closed; Jarruth had not yet regained consciousness. The Shadow moved along the hallway and reached the end door. He found at once that the barrier was formidable. Its lock could not be easily picked; moreover, The Shadow's cloak lacked the tools he needed. They had been in a special belt beneath his coat and Creelon had evidently taken the belt as a trophy. It would be folly to riddle the lock with bullets. Shots would bring Creelon's full squad of warriors.