Maxwell Grant - The Man From Shanghai

“Good enough,” decided Spark, “if The Shadow falls for it. But suppose he don’t? Why should he, anyway? What’s going to bring him into the square box?”

“Tomorrow afternoon,” stated Malfort, in a tone of prophecy, “Ku-Nuan will pay a visit to Chinatown.”

Spark gaped; then asserted: “Say, chief, that will queer everything! The chinks are out to spot Ku-Nuan. They’ll trail him and pass the word to The Shadow. You said yourself that he’s got some hook-up down in Chinatown.”

“That is the very reason why Ku-Nuan will go there.”

Spark’s eyes showed that understanding had dawned.

“I think I get you, chief,” declared the lieutenant. “Ku-Nuan will head for the trap. The chinks will see him slide into the courtyard. They’ll take a squint at the other passages. But they’ll be watching for Ku-Nuan to come out.”

“Ku-Nuan will not come out,” stated Malfort. “He will hurry through one passage. Near the street, he will enter a side door that leads into the old pawnshop. He will bar that door behind him; he will go up to his lookout post. The Chinese will stay on watch outside the courtyard.”

“Until The Shadow comes?”

“Certainly. That will be after dark. Meanwhile, Ku-Nuan will swing the switch that controls the four beams.”

Spark pondered, seeking a final flaw.

“Suppose The Shadow goes after the door to the hock shop,” he remarked. “That might queer the whole game, chief.”

“The door is sheathed with steel,” stated Malfort. “The Shadow will investigate the courtyard before he attempts to crack that door. Remember the Chinese will pass through the courtyard unmolested, because Ku-Nuan will not swing the switch until after they are gone.”

“And since the chinks get away with it,” approved Spark, “The Shadow won’t mind taking a Brodie. Say, chief, you’ve got it doped out perfect! There’d be a lot of big-shots still alive if somebody had thought up this gag a few years ago.

“I’ll have to use the whole crew, though. No use taking chances with The Shadow, even if he’s bagged. He’ll drop some of my gorillas before we get him. You said fifteen to one; I’ll make it twenty to one.”

Malfort considered. Wardlock spoke, to voice an objection.

“There’ll be no one at the Maribar Hotel,” reminded the secretary, “except Barthow and those inside. Suppose Furbish comes there while Spark and his crew are not available? How can he be handled? Barthow and the inside men can not risk making a commotion at the Maribar.”

“Spark can post one man at a telephone near the trap,” explained Malfort. “Barthow can call there, if Furbish appears. Spark and his outfit can get back to the Maribar in less than fifteen minutes. If Furbish calls on Rowden, he will doubtless remain longer than a quarter hour. Our plans remain the same, so far as Furbish is concerned.”

WITH a wave of his hand, Malfort dismissed the conference. As his companions departed from the room, the master crook warmed his hands before the open fire and chuckled his evil elation. Despite the thoroughness of his schemes for murder, Malfort had encountered opposition from The Shadow; that fact, however, did not disturb this genius of evil.

Long since, Malfort had designed his trap in case The Shadow should prove a threat against his game. The trap was ready – with Ku-Nuan as the bait. The Mongol, moreover, would see that the trap was set.

After tomorrow evening, Malfort was convinced, there would be no more trouble from The Shadow.

“EACH side of the square is a wall. The openings are passages.”

Almost word for word, the statement was Malfort’s; the diagram that a pointing finger indicated was identical with the one that the supercrook had drawn.

The speaker, however, was not Malfort; nor was the pointing hand his. The slow, careful words were delivered by Yat Soon; the finger that touched the lines of the square belonged to the distinguished Chinese arbiter.

Yat Soon was in his reception room. Opposite him, cloaked in black, sat The Shadow. Hours had passed since Malfort had discussed his plans. It was late the next afternoon.

“At four o’clock today,” declared Yat Soon, solemnly, “Ku-Nuan was seen in Chinatown. That is why I dispatched my request that you come here. Meanwhile, my men followed Ku-Nuan and brought back word of his whereabouts.”

Yat Soon made a penciled mark – an arrow that indicated the chief entrance of the trap.

“This was where Ku-Nuan went. He did not reappear. My men found the other passages. They entered the courtyard. There was no sign of Ku-Nuan.

“It is possible that he slipped swiftly away. But it is more probable, Ying Ko, that he came through the far passage and stopped by a door near its outlet. Had he entered that door and barred it after him, he could be within the house that has a window on its second floor.”

Yat Soon indicated the far wall of the trap. He unfolded a sheet of rice paper that bore characters in Chinese and passed it to The Shadow, who read the legend as easily as if it had been in English.

The text was a description given by one of Yat Soon’s competent men. It told of three blank walls within the courtyard; also of a fourth, with solid shuttered windows on its ground floor, an unbarred window on the second.

Yat Soon’s Chinese informant had left no detail uncovered. His description of projecting shutters; his figures, with exact dimensions as to width of windows, their height above the ground – these gave The Shadow a perfect picture of the courtyard.

Laying the paper aside, The Shadow spoke words in Chinese. Yat Soon nodded solemnly.

“I share your opinion, Ying Ko,” announced the arbiter. “The upper window could well serve Ku-Nuan. From that spot he could hurl a knife, much as he did one night ago. There would be no post to protect you.

“You are correct also when you state that all will surely be dark within that courtyard. My searchers found no trace of lights. Ku-Nuan, like yourself, would require darkness. Nevertheless, Ying Ko, I fear a snare. It would be wise if my chosen men accompanied you tonight.”

The Shadow voiced a statement in Chinese. Yat Soon smiled blandly. “You have spoken wisely, Ying Ko,” commended the arbiter. “You have said that where danger lurks, one may venture what many would not dare. I shall order my men to depart at dusk. The trap will remain unwatched.

“Enemies will then be seized by doubt. Impatient, they may reveal themselves before you arrive. Unless the enemy is Ku-Nuan alone. In that case, the absence of others will prove the fact.”

The Shadow had risen. Yat Soon stood up and bowed.

“I had forgotten that you must be elsewhere,” declared Yat Soon. “We have spoken all that must be said. More words would delay your present mission.”

THE SHADOW departed through the labyrinth of passages. Reaching the darkened street that led to Chinatown, he moved away, enshrouded in gathering dusk. Beneath an elevated railway, where gloom had come early, The Shadow boarded a taxicab and spoke an order to the driver.

Cutting across Manhattan, the cab reached the water front along the Hudson River. Here, buildings no longer blocked the afterglow that came from beyond the New Jersey hills. Though lights were glimmering from cars and street lamps, there were sufficient rays of sunset to reveal the face at the rear window of the cab.

The Shadow had removed his garb of black. He was wearing the guise in which he had visited Major Rowden the quiet, pleasant features of Henry Arnaud.

The cab wheeled to a stop beside a steamship pier. The Shadow alighted and watched a liner as it warped into the dock. A gangplank dropped; passengers streamed into view, to be met by customs officers who stood beneath the pier lights.