Chopping with a short pick, Strampf dug deep into wooden laths. He hewed an opening; Caudrey hacked another hole a few minutes later.
Soon the lower portion of the wall was cleared away. While Strampf and Caudrey stood back, Bradthaw flicked a flashlight's glow into the space. The light glimmered upon the metal chest. Caudrey and Strampf hauled it from the hiding place. Each pulled a clamp; Bradthaw raised the cover.
Three crooks stared at emptiness.
The big disappointment was Caudrey's. He had sunk over ninety thousand dollars; all the money he possessed. In return, he had an unsalable mansion. Bitterly, he remembered the Speculation Rider attached to his policy. He recalled Bradthaw's statement:
"If there is nothing you receive nothing and pay nothing."
Bradthaw also remembered it. He was sorry that Caudrey had lost out on three million dollars, because three hundred thousand would have come to Bradthaw, at premium payment. Three hundred thousand though was small change, compared to the total that the crime-insurance racket would eventually produce.
Smugly Bradthaw expressed regrets to Caudrey. The actuary stood numbed. His droopy eyelids were closed, his hollow cheeks sucked deeper than ever. His lips were muttering wordless sounds.
Bradthaw's lips were hardened in contempt when the situation took a sudden change.
Strampf had crawled into the hole. His lean shoulder poked out again; his cadaverous face looked up. In his harsh fashion, Strampf voiced:
"Somebody rifled that box! They came up through the floor!"
Strampf halted as he caught a glare from Bradthaw. Instantly Caudrey came to life. His eyes popped open; his voice was high-pitched as he wheeled to Bradthaw.
"Then the policy stands!" Caudrey was almost hysterical. "I can collect my claim! Three million dollars!"
THE burden had transferred to Bradthaw. The crime profiteer was faced by the very problem that had stunned Caudrey. But Bradthaw did not slump. He even repressed the oaths that he wanted to hurl at Strampf. After all, Strampf was paid to get to the bottom of matters. That talent had proved itself a boomerang; but Strampf could not be blamed.
"You shall collect your claim," Bradthaw told Caudrey. "Under the circumstances, however, we must insist upon all provisions in the policy. There is one calling for thirty days' grace in settlement."
"But with others," protested Caudrey, "you paid off without delay!"
"Because the lost spoils could not be regained. That does not apply in this case. Someone still holds the funds that belonged in this coffer. Incidentally, Caudrey, we must find that person - and the funds - to learn the actual amount."
Bradthaw's impressive tone calmed Caudrey. The actuary was willing to accept the thirty-day decision.
Moreover he was anxious to retain Bradthaw's good favor since future payment hinged on it. Fearing that Bradthaw might think that he had been double-crossed, Caudrey hurriedly assured him that all had been fair.
Caudrey swore that he had spoken to no one regarding the hidden wealth. He had kept the fact from Reddingham; that, in turn, had prevented George Melrue from learning it. In fact, added Caudrey, he had not seen George for days. Only Hurden had seen George; but Hurden knew nothing.
George had been in this house yesterday; but he had not even been in Reddingham's office today.
Hurden had mentioned George's absence; Francine's statement that her brother was ill.
Bradthaw's steely eyes showed a glint.
"The answer is plain," declared the crime executive. "Young Melrue was familiar with this house. He guessed its secret. He carved his way up through the floor and took the millions."
"But he sold the house," reminded Caudrey.
"He tried to avoid selling it," analyzed Bradthaw. "He set an exorbitant price to discourage purchasers.
When Hurden showed willingness to buy at ninety thousand, George could not reject the offer. His urge for money also influenced him to sell."
"But if he already had the three million, ninety thousand would have been small -"
"He did not have the millions," interrupted Bradthaw in a final tone. "George filched the wealth last night.
The cellar was not properly guarded. That is how he managed it. A crude job with traces of its hurried method. Today, George's nerve was gone. He knows that others wanted that wealth."
Strampf was listening intently to all that Bradthaw said. The insurance man's deductions brought a steady nod from the cadaverous investigator. Even before Bradthaw had finished, Strampf was picking up the telephone to send orders to finger men and thuggish crews. Instructions given, the group in the study waited.
Word came back. George Melrue was not at his hotel. He had checked out that morning. There was no trace of Francine at her apartment. She had packed and left during the afternoon.
Strampf ordered his informants to search for traces of the missing Melrues. Hanging up the telephone receiver Strampf said to Bradthaw:
"They will be found!"
Bradthaw's nod was one of confidence. He could depend upon Strampf to locate that pair of amateur treasure-seekers. It seemed obvious that George had delegated his sister to arrange the house sale; then join him afterward. Wherever they had gone, Strampf would dig them out.
Neither Bradthaw nor Strampf looked beyond the obvious. Clever though they were, they could accept no more than the surface facts. With The Shadow supposedly dead, they had no reason to look for a deep-laid purpose behind the disappearance of the Melrue heirs.
The crime-master and his star mercenary had taken the same bait from The Shadow's hook.
CHAPTER XVII. CRIME'S ULTIMATUM
TWO days had passed. It was night again; the time when The Shadow could ordinarily move on secret missions. Circumstances, however, were no longer usual with The Shadow. His own chosen policy kept him from action. The Shadow was continuing the pretence that he was dead.
Two nights ago, crooks had entered the storage house where The Shadow had placed the black-ray machine. Newspapers had told of a trifling burglary there. The Shadow knew that the equipment was gone; that it would eventually reach Burbank. So far, however, there had been no pickup by the direction-finders.
The answer was that Strampf was too busy searching for the Melrue heirs to bother with the special machine. The delivery of the device had been delayed somewhere along the line, awaiting further orders from Strampf.
There were times when The Shadow regretted his present policy. He had adopted his waiting tactics, confident that such a course would insure the safety of his agents. Thinking The Shadow dead, crooks would fear nothing from the agents; and should therefore keep them prisoners for future use.
But the absence of contact was ominous, even to The Shadow. It could mean that something had happened to the agents.
His choice once made, The Shadow could not alter it. He kept to a hideout, in the basement of a small apartment house. The Melrues occupied an upstairs apartment; while in his present location, The Shadow could protect them in an emergency.
As yet, Strampf's searchers had not even come close.
This evening, a scene occurred that would have pleased The Shadow, had he been there to view it. It happened in Bradthaw's office. For reasons of his own, the insurance magnate had employees working overtime; and was on the job himself.
As before, Bradthaw had two visitors. Strampf was there, with Caudrey.
"I have sent feelers everywhere," declared Strampf, in his harsh, mechanized tone. "Not one of my searchers has picked up a trace of the Melrues. I cannot understand how they managed such a complete disappearance!"