The Crime Clinic
- Автор: Грант Максвелл
- Серия: The Shadow #43
- Год: 1933
- Язык: английский
- Год: Street and Smith
- Жанр: Крутые детективы
Электронная книга - «The Crime Clinic». Краткое содержание книги:
“But I can’t go any further—”
“Easy!” Bing Claver’s growl was steady. “The bulls ain’t after you, Melken. What’ve you got to worry about?”
Bart Melken was a picture of dejection. He licked his lips and stared pleadingly at his ugly tormentor. At last he seemed to gain control of his emotions.
“Here’s the trouble, Bing,” he stated. “I had to work for The Jackdaw. I was hard up after the gambling houses swindled me. I stole some bonds; how The Jackdaw learned it is more than I know. You were the man who got hold of me, and told me that I would have to work for The Jackdaw, or be exposed.
“I thought I could go through with it. All I had to do was play a minor part; work on the inside at the homes of wealthy friends. There were times in between when I thought those jobs had ended. But always there were new instructions from The Jackdaw; more jobs to do. I stood it until last night.
“I didn’t care if Rutherford Casslin lost his diamond. He could afford it. But when murder crept in, I lost my nerve. I didn’t think, when I gave those signals with my cigarette lighter, that The Jackdaw intended to kill Casslin.”
“Yeah?” There was no sympathy in Bing’s growl. “Well, you might have expected some guy would get the bump sooner or later. You’ve got to stick with The Jackdaw now.”
“Who is The Jackdaw?” demanded Melken.
“I told you I don’t know,” retorted Bing. “I get word from him like you do — over the telephone. He needs me once in a while, too. I’m telling you, Melken, if you go yellow, you’ll get yours. If you expect to marry that ritzy jane you’re engaged to, you’d better stick with The Jackdaw’s racket.”
The reference to Yvonne Lydell brought a troubled look to Bart Melken’s face. The young society man knew that Bing Claver had made a definite threat.
“I’ll — I’ll try to go through with it,” stammered Melken. “But I’m telling you, Bing — if you have a chance to tell it to The Jackdaw — that I’m likely to lose my nerve on the next job. This Casslin affair was something for which I didn’t bargain.”
Bing Claver snorted contemptuously. He looked at Bart Melken to make sure that the young man had meant what he said. Bing saw that Bart had spoken the truth.
“All right,” growled the gang leader. “I’ll put The Jackdaw wise when I hear from him. It won’t be so hot for you, though, if you try to slide out of your job. I guess you’re getting worried on account of the girl.”
“I am,” admitted Melken. “She may have suspected something — last night she—”
“What if she did? Who’ll she tell?”
“I don’t think she will say anything. Her father — Garforth Lydell — is in Florida at present. He is the only one in whom she would confide.”
“Don’t worry, then.”
Bart Melken bobbed in startled fashion as he heard a bell ring. Bing Claver laughed at this sign of nerves. He arose and pressed a button alongside the wall.
“Who is it?” queried Melken anxiously.
“Just Limps Silvey,” answered Bing. Claver. “He’s harmless. A guy that’s been hanging around here. Tells me a little about what’s going on outside. I don’t go out except when I have to.”
BING opened the door to the hall. A few moments later, dragging footsteps were heard. A pitiful figure appeared at the door of the room.
A man with a twisted form, frail of build, and faltering of step, hobbled into the room with the aid of a cane. He turned a brownish, leering face toward Bing Claver; then looked with sharp eyes at Bart Melken.
“Just a friend of mine,” explained Bing. “That’s all, Limps. A guy I’ve known for a while. Sit down.”
“Limps” dropped into a chair.
“Anything new?” growled Bing.
“Nah,” rejoined the cripple. “Tings are quiet out on de street, Bing. Some of de guys are talkin’ about dat diamond dat a smart bird stole.”
“Yeah? Who do they think did it?”
“Dey don’t have no idea. But I got one, Bing.”
“Who?”
“I’ll put you wise later.”
“Don’t mind this guy,” returned Bing, with a nudge toward Bart Melken. “Tell me — what do you know about that job at Casslin’s?”
“It ain’t nothin’ that I know, Bing. It’s what I’ve figured. Dere’s only one guy smart enough to get away wid somethin’ like dat. De guy I’m thinkin’ of is De Jackdaw.”
A smart grin spread over Limps Silvey’s dirty face. Bing Claver smiled slightly.
“Anything else?” he asked.
“Nothin’, Bing,” responded Limps.
“Scram, then,” ordered Bing.
The cripple arose from his chair and shuffled from the room. Bing Claver looked at Bart Melken.
“This guy Limps don’t know much,” he said in an undertone. “Sometimes I think, though, that he figures I work for The Jackdaw. It don’t hurt if he does. He keeps mum.”
The gang leader paused to make a new study of Bart Melken’s anxious face. Then, in a gruff manner, he arose and snarled as he made a final statement.
“Keep away from here after this,” he ordered. “You got your job; I got mine. See? Just because I hooked you up with The Jackdaw don’t mean nothing. I don’t know who the guy is. He pays me for what I do — like he paid you. But I’ll tell you this” — Bing’s voice was harsh — “and you can take it or leave it. Any guy that crosses The Jackdaw don’t live long. When you think about this Casslin bird, think about yourself. Maybe The Jackdaw will give you what he gave Casslin. He can do it.”
Bart Melken nodded. He recognized the wisdom of the gang leader’s words. He detested this ex-gorilla; he had come here only in hope of reaching the unknown master whom both he and Bing Claver served. Realizing, now, that he could learn nothing from the other minion, Bart Melken arose and walked from the room.
AS soon as his visitor was gone, Bing Claver strode back across the well-furnished room to the door beyond which The Shadow had been standing. He was too late, however, to spy that sinister figure which had hovered in the next room.
As though foreseeing Bing Claver’s move, The Shadow had chosen a new and quick method of departure. His fingers had raised the half opened sash of the window; his figure had swung clear of the sill. Silently, The Shadow was lowering his tall, lithe form into the blackness of the alleyway.
He was not departing directly downward; instead, he had shifted to the side. Hence Bing Claver, peering into darkness, did not see his mysteriously descending form. Bing was watching for a sign of Bart Melken. It came. A slight flicker of light denoted the opening and the closing of the door below. Bing could hear Melken’s footsteps clicking on the stone paving of the alley below.
Bart Melken, however, was not alone as he strode from that darkened area. Behind him, unseen in the gloom, stalked the figure of The Shadow. As Bart reached the entrance of the alleyway, the tall figure lingered. Keen eyes peered through darkness, as though watching for the appearance of another person.
A full minute elapsed. Melken had turned the nearest corner. Then, from the darkness across the street, came a slinking human form. Soft feet took up a shuffling gait. Limps Silvey had been waiting to make sure that Bart Melken had left Bing Claver’s.
The Shadow followed. The shuffler was moving at a rapid pace. Evidently he had capped his cane with a rubber tip, for it made no sound as he tapped it against the sidewalk. Limps was not on Melken’s trail; he had remained only to assure himself of the young man’s departure from the neighborhood.
Indeed, Limps moved so swiftly that his shifty form seemed to elude detection. The Shadow’s trailing was a marvelous achievement. Through streets and alleys, he kept on the track of Limps Silvey, until the course ended abruptly in a cul-de-sac where walls were on three sides. There were doorways here; none showed a trace of Limps Silvey’s entrance. The frail hobbler had made a rapid dive into some hideout.