Enwood did not reply. He wanted Trelger to continue, so the wheezy man took the invitation.

"I knew when my own funds went," spoke Trelger. "But Rayne's could have disappeared before the night he died. Wight's, I believe, were s.n.a.t.c.hed from him the time he fled. March.e.l.l's, however, date back to the past. Always, though, the money disappeared into your coffers, Enwood!"

A hard laugh came from Enwood. "You'll be accusing me of murder next, Trelger."

"Why not?" demanded Trelger. "Just because young Glendon, here, decided to kill March.e.l.l is no reason why you would not have murdered Rayne or Wight."

Enwood's laugh was ended, but his smile remained. He was prepared to refute all such accusations.

"It will interest you, Trelger," he said, "to know that I prepared myself with a continuous alibi, from the time I learned that you had been robbed. Not only did I alibi myself, but I did the same for my secretary, Olivan. It struck me that your case would mark the beginning of a sequence."

"Why?" demanded Trelger.

"Because I misjudged you," laughed Enwood. "I thought that you had actually framed your office robbery, so you wouldn't be suspected when others occurred."

Staring hard at Enwood, Trelger finally turned to look at Timothy. He didn't recognize the butler in his present make-up. Speaking to Enwood, Trelger declaimed: "You have the effrontery to say all this? Here, in the presence of the very impostor whom you bribed to pose as myself?"

Enwood gestured to Timothy, who reluctantly relaxed his expression, took off the gla.s.ses, and moved into the light. For the first time, Trelger recognized who his double was.

"It's dawned on you at last!" chuckled Enwood. "Young Glendon and the old butler teamed up on everything. They robbed you, Rayne, and Wight. They would have taken March.e.l.l's h.o.a.rd, if I hadn't plucked him first. Speaking of effrontery"-Enwood's laugh became a ba.s.so-"they actually came here to pillage me!"

FROM the curtained doorway, The Shadow watched a change creep over Enwood's features and foresaw that some singular game was manifest. On his home ground, with his own strength well established, Enwood dominated the situation. He was going to make the most of it.

Enwood chose a singular beginning. He stepped over and clapped a friendly hand on Bert's shoulder, much to that young man's amazement.

"Bert thinks that all our money should rightfully be his," declared Enwood solemnly. "His mathematics are exaggerated, but his sincerity is genuine. Moreover, he wants it all to go to charity. What do you think, Trelger?"

Trelger started to sneer; then, remembering that The Shadow was in the offing, he changed his mood and said: "Go on, Enwood."

"Since Bert holds three fifths of the total," continued Enwood, "we might say that he is the majority shareholder. So I propose that we accept his decision, with a reasonable modification." Enwood turned to Olivan and added: "Bring that will I drew up recently."

Olivan brought the will. Enwood handed it to Bert, who read the doc.u.ment in surprise. It stated that Enwood was leaving all his wealth to charity. Bert thought it a trick, until Enwood explained.

"What use will my money be to me when I am dead?" asked Enwood. "I believe in the acc.u.mulation ofwealth through one's own effort. When I have finished"-he snapped his fingers-"that is the end of my ambition, too. So you see, our ideas are much the same."

"Except that I'm turning over mine to charity right now," defended Bert stoutly, "while you intend to play your pile to the limit!"

"Every man to his choice," said Enwood. Then, abruptly: "Would you give Trelger the same privilege as myself?"

Bert thought it over, consulting Timothy with glances. He knew that Enwood wanted to buy off Trelger, rather than have the March.e.l.l swindle fully exposed. Still, Bert would be able to dispose of the funds belonging to Rayne and Wight, while the total would eventually go to charity. So Bert finished his meditation with a nod.

"Trelger can have his back," decided Bert, "provided he wills his fortune to charity. You draw up the will, while Timothy and I get the funds. They're at Timothy's apartment."

Enwood questioned how far away it was, and Bert gave the address. Enwood thereupon decided that it would be better to send only Bert or Timothy, and let Olivan be the second man. All the while, Enwood was glancing at Trelger, expecting him to say something, which Trelger did.

Again, Trelger was remembering The Shadow. Trelger had promised a showdown, and the mere reclaiming of his funds would hardly fill the bill. It was Trelger's duty to act as champion of justice, and he rallied to the call.

"These men are murderers!" accused Trelger, waging a finger from Bert to Timothy. "It is a proven fact that young Glendon killed March.e.l.l! As for the other-"

"You are wrong, sir." It was Timothy who inserted the objection. "I killed March.e.l.l tonight. I wish to sign a confession." He looked for pen and paper, saw them, and proceeded to the task. When he had finished, Timothy handed Bert the sheet and said: "Here, Mr. Bert; add this to the others. You know I killed Rayne and Wight, as well."

Slowly folding the paper, Bert placed it in his wallet. He looked appealingly at Enwood, who stroked his long chin. This case was breaking much as Enwood would have it, though Bert didn't realize it.

"The commissioner will be here shortly," said Enwood slowly. "It is my duty to turn Bert Glendon over to him on a murder charge. Therefore, I shall do so; but if I fail to hold Timothy, I cannot be blamed. Of course, Bert"-Enwood turned smilingly toward the young man-"you can produce those confessions later, after Timothy has gone."

Bert brightened. This was giving Timothy a chance for flight and life. But Timothy saw more than that in the glance Bert gave him. The faithful butler realized that if he should be caught, Bert would tear up the confessions. Grimly, Timothy was determined that he wouldn't get caught. For Bert's sake, he'd gladly lead a hunted life.

THE arrival of Commissioner Weston was soon due. In fact, it was expected downstairs. The clerk in the lobby saw a gesture of the doorman's arm and went out to learn what was wanted. The operator came from the elevator, too.

Outside, in the semidarkness, the doorman pointed to a cab and the clerk looked through the open door.

Doorman and elevator operator promptly suppressed him inside the cab. They slammed the door and the cab drove away. While this was going on, another man strolled into the Arcadia Apartments and took his place behind the desk. The new clerk was on duty when Commissioner Weston and Inspector Cardona arrived, with two accompanying detectives, a few minutes later. When Weston asked to see Enwood, the new clerk was the person who phoned the penthouse.

Upstairs, Enwood answered the ringing telephone personally. He covered the mouthpiece and turned to Bert, with the query: "Is it a deal?"

Bert looked at Timothy. When the butler nodded, Bert did the same. Trelger, with a smug smile, added a third nod, on the basis that he had probably accomplished enough to suit The Shadow. Over the phone, Enwood said: "Tell the commissioner to wait. I shall be down to see him in a few minutes."

That finished, Enwood turned to his companions.

"I'll take Olivan with me," he said. "I know you'll all stay here; my servants will see to it. We'll handle the commissioner, Olivan and I. We'll get him out, and let you know when Timothy can leave. Maybe we'll get him to take us over to March.e.l.l's, before coming up here. Later, Bert, we'll turn you over to the law and let you square yourself."

No one objecting, Enwood beckoned Olivan toward the door. Already, a triumphant smile was registering on Enwood's face, for he thought no one could view it.

Enwood was wrong. Eyes saw that smile-burning eyes that peered in from the doorway leading out to the elevators.

Then Enwood was backing up, and Olivan the same, each under the muzzle of a leveled automatic. In two-handed style, The Shadow was moving the conniving pair back where they belonged: with the rest of the men concerned in the trail of vengeance.

Next came the whispered laugh, a sibilant command that halted Enwood and Olivan, so that they blocked off any aid from the armed servants stationed in the room.

The Shadow's laugh finished with a sinister touch. This time, the showdown was really coming. The Shadow was forcing it, in person!

CHAPTER XX. MATTERS OF MURDER.

DESPITE his chagrin at being trapped in his own stronghold, Artemus Enwood felt himself secure. So, for that matter, did Horace Trelger when he saw that Enwood, not himself, was confronted directly by The Shadow.

As for Bert and Timothy, they were frankly bewildered. They had made a deal, but realized that it wasn't going through. What was to replace it, they could not guess.

At least half a minute pa.s.sed before The Shadow spoke. He seemed to be waiting for something, his head tilted, as he listened intently. At last, in sibilant tone, he ordered: "Stay as you are until this case is settled. Facts must be stated in my presence, without reservation.

Perhaps some of you need prompting. Enwood, for instance." Defiantly, Enwood faced The Shadow, as though he doubted that the black-cloaked master over crime could alter his status.

"Your game is plain, Enwood," spoke The Shadow. "Perhaps you did intend to have the commissioner take you over to March.e.l.l's. If so, it was only so that Olivan could go to Timothy's and pick up everything he found there."

Enwood gave an ugly grimace, despite himself. The Shadow stopped Bert and Timothy with commanding glances as they started forward. Both decided to subside. The Shadow could handle Enwood better than they.

"You would then have turned them both over to the law," proceeded The Shadow, "and all the profits would have been yours, unless you decided to pay off Trelger. If you planned that, Enwood, you were a fool!"

A curious expression spread on Enwood's face. He knew that The Shadow must be stating fact, but he couldn't grasp the answer. Nor could the others, except Trelger. His hand was creeping to a pocket, when The Shadow stopped it by the simple expedient of raising a gun from the cowering figure of Olivan and turning it in Trelger's direction.

"We have some matters to settle, Trelger," announced The Shadow. "Matters of murder: three, to be exact. Despite evidence and confessions to the contrary, I hold you responsible for the deaths of Rayne, Wight, and March.e.l.l!"

Trelger tried to snarl a denial, but The Shadow clamped the case with facts. While the cloaked speaker gave these facts, Bert and Timothy stared at each other, utterly amazed to learn that they were mutually innocent of crimes that each had tried to accept because of loyalty to the other!

Horace Trelger, triple murderer!

It sounded fantastic, considering that Trelger had originally been the victim of a clever robbery staged by Bert and Timothy, the first in a series along their route of vengeance. But within that nutsh.e.l.l lay the very kernel that marked Trelger as a triple killer.

Wealth was Trelger's G.o.d; having lost his idol in the shape of the stolen securities, Trelger was the sort who would go to any lengths to regain the object of his worship.

Sheer logic told The Shadow that Trelger must have decided to make the rounds in the same fashion that Bert and Timothy had followed their trail of vengeance!

"An impostor robbed you, Trelger," declared The Shadow. "You had no idea that the man was Timothy, the obscure, self-effacing servant of old Lionel Glendon. You proved that only a short while ago, by the surprise that swept you when you learned that Timothy was your impersonator."

THOSE words. .h.i.t home. From that moment, every listener recognized that The Shadow's a.n.a.lysis must be correct. For the cloaked accuser was stating thoughts that had earlier originated in Trelger's own warped mind.

"In seeking the man who robbed you," The Shadow told Trelger, "you considered your old a.s.sociates in order. The first on the list was Jared Rayne. You went to see him first and arrived while he was telephoning the police commissioner. You did not see Bert Glendon, half senseless, behind the desk, nor did you see me at the window.

"Rayne was saying that someone planned to rob him. He meant Bert, but you thought he was going toname you, Trelger, because you had come to get your wealth back and take Rayne's in retaliation. So you yanked the light cord and shot Rayne later, when he was springing toward the door."

The Shadow could have added further facts: how two cars, not one, had fled from Rayne's; how someone had dashed down the front stairs, a route that neither Bert nor Timothy could have reached.

What The Shadow did add was this: "You thought Rayne opened his safe himself, Trelger. When his cash box was found stuffed with worthless papers, you decided that the switch of bad for good had happened on an earlier evening.

Learning that Wight had visited Rayne, you decided that your suspicions of Jared Rayne were wrong.

You picked Freeman Wight as the man who was robbing his old a.s.sociates and thought that Wight had victimized both you and Rayne. So you visited Freeman Wight."

Needless to say, Trelger's trip to Wight's had come at the time when Bert and Timothy went there. By simple elimination, The Shadow named the one place where Trelger could have established himself: namely, in Wight's car. Trelger had picked that perfect lurking spot while the chauffeur was crossing the street to meet Wight.

No shots reached the car when it fled. But amid the gunfire in which the chauffeur partic.i.p.ated, Trelger had pressed his own revolver to Wight's heart and fired. Not suspecting an enemy in the car, Wight had been totally off guard.

During the flight, Trelger had found an opportunity to slug the chauffeur, accounting for the mysterious jolt the fellow received. The car's crash allowed Trelger's escape.

Again the killer had left empty-handed. The only bag in the car-the only one Trelger saw at all-was the larger suitcase containing only the clothes that Wight had packed!

"You were beginning to think that you always came too late," The Shadow told Trelger, after completing the a.n.a.lysis of Wight's death. "You wanted to see cash before you tried to carry it. Finding that Wight had been robbed like Rayne and yourself, you decided that Simon March.e.l.l must be the man who was getting away with everything-except murder."

Those added words carried a significance that made Trelger wince.

"You sought out March.e.l.l this evening," The Shadow told Trelger. "You left the door open, just in case a surprise visitor might arrive. One did: Bert Glendon."

Here was real amazement. Bert gave a gasp of surprise, while a look of understanding spread on Timothy's patient face. The man who entered March.e.l.l's ahead of Bert had been Horace Trelger in person, not Timothy in disguise!

THE SHADOW pa.s.sed over the details of how Bert and the real Trelger had parried with March.e.l.l. The important phase of that interview was its climax.

"When Bert fell through the trap," The Shadow told Trelger, "you shot March.e.l.l and left very promptly to call on the police commissioner and steer him to March.e.l.l's. You wanted the commissioner to find Bert Glendon and accuse him of three murders on the strength of one circ.u.mstantial case.

"Certain friends of mine saw you leave"-The Shadow was referring to his secret agents-"and they also saw you arrive again from the opposite direction. Acquainted with important facts, they knew that the second arrival was Timothy."

Bert looked at Timothy, who nodded. "That's right, Mr. Bert," said Timothy. "I wondered why you had gone into March.e.l.l's before I arrived there."

"Then you thought I really killed him!" exclaimed Bert. "But you were willing to take the blame!"

"I thought the same in the other cases," nodded Timothy. "But I had no qualms, sir. I felt the responsibility was mine."

Before Bert and Timothy could exchange further compliments, the heavy voice of Artemus Enwood boomed an interruption. Enwood's words carried accusation, directed at Horace Trelger.

"So, Trelger!" hurled Enwood. "I was to be next! You hoped to deal with me as you had with Rayne, Wight, and March.e.l.l!"

"I only wanted what belonged to me," pleaded Trelger, his voice becoming a whine. "I killed Rayne by mistake; Wight because it was necessary; and I had to do away with March.e.l.l to cover the other murders. But I only wanted-"

"What belonged to you," interrupted Enwood. His tone became a deep laugh. "Plus whatever wealth they had."

"I wanted to get even with whoever robbed me," argued Trelger. "When I learned that you swindled March.e.l.l, I took it that you'd robbed everyone along the line, beginning with myself.

"These people"-he gestured at Bert and Timothy-"really had me fooled."

Trelger's statements were an absolute confession. As a triple murderer, he had taken over the show.

Acting upon that, Enwood turned to The Shadow and said: "Trelger is the culprit. Take him."

Accusing eyes bored hard upon Enwood.

"You are forgetting one point," spoke The Shadow. "Stir your memory, Enwood, back to the matter that produced this chain of crime. I refer to the sudden death of Lionel Glendon."

The Shadow was emphasizing what Bert and Timothy had discussed earlier: how Enwood and Olivan were the only hands who could have framed Lionel's death. The fact stood bare, now that layers of doubt were removed. Trelger certainly hadn't slain Lionel. Rayne, Wight, March.e.l.l, victims all, had never shown the caliber of killers.

Tonight's events had marked Artemus Enwood with motive. His swindling of Simon March.e.l.l was reason for disposing of old Lionel Glendon, who, while he lived, had been a safeguard against pillagers preying upon one another. The only thing was to prove the case against Enwood and The Shadow was choosing the perfect way.

In centering upon Enwood, The Shadow was apparently ignoring Olivan, though the latter rated as a partner in guilt. If either switched from bluff to action, both would be marked for what they were.

In forcing Enwood to bluff, The Shadow gave Olivan the chance to act. No longer covered by a gun, Olivan felt a surge of returning nerve.

With an upward leap, Olivan grabbed for The Shadow's gun hand, only to receive the gun itself as it swung. His own hands failing to ward off the blow sufficiently, the sallow secretary reeled. Bert and Timothy made a grab for him, while The Shadow was wheeling to divert the fire of Enwood's servants, who were springing into action.

As for Trelger, he whipped his gun out and aimed for The Shadow while springing toward the door. But Trelger and those other gunners were met with a surprise. The Shadow wasn't handling this proposition all alone. With facts flying thick and fast, he had naturally arranged for the right people to listen to them.

He was giving those same people their chance at battle, too, and they took it.

IN from the entry, where they had been hearing everything, sprang Commissioner Weston, Inspector Cardona and the two detectives. They aimed for Trelger, not realizing that The Shadow was ahead of them.

One shot from The Shadow's automatic clipped Trelger's gun hand. Before the murderer could rally, he was riddled by police bullets. The man who had trailed his own ill-gotten cash, seeking spoils from those he slew, was at the end of his trail. Trelger's death under that combined fire was more sudden than any he had delivered to his victims.