“Yes. Under Inspector Klein’s supervision.”
“Exactly. Therefore, the only excuse for the inability of the police force to locate either the kidnapped man or the supposed kidnaper is the fact that both may be absent from the city.”
“That would be a good reason for not finding either of them.”
“Cardona,” — Weston became serious as be spoke — “there is a clever crook behind the disappearance of Hubert Apprison. That crook may be Velvet Laffrey. I think he is Velvet Laffrey, but I am not willing to express a final opinion until more evidence is obtained in the matter.
“We must find the master crook. Naturally, if he has been outside of New York, we can say that the task is one that might be excusable if it failed. But if the crook should be in New York — if he should positively return to the city—”
“We ought to get him, commissioner.”
Weston nodded at Cardona’s words. The detective became a bit uneasy. He had a hunch that Weston was holding something back.
“If,” remarked the commissioner thoughtfully, “our man were to enter New York on a stipulated date and there attempt a crime similar to the kidnapping of Hubert Apprison — a crime with murder again involved — we, as representatives of the law in New York, should certainly be expected to apprehend the miscreant. Am I right?”
“Yes,” agreed Cardona with a short laugh. “If we knew what the crook is going to do, we ought to get him.”
“And if,” added Weston, “we should be somewhat in the dark regarding his actual plan of action, it would be our part to illuminate the subject in time to forestall crime?”
“Absolutely.”
“Good. I am glad to hear you talk that way, Cardona. Very glad, especially” — Weston was smiling — “because I am able to give you an opportunity to prove your statement.”
There was a biting challenge to Weston’s tone. Joe Cardona shifted uneasily. He watched the commissioner pick up a folded sheet of paper from the desk.
“The crook,” remarked Weston quietly, “will be in New York. Do you understand that, Cardona? The man behind the disappearance of Hubert Apprison is coming to New York. There is information that I want you to put to good use. If there is anything more that you want to know about the man in question, ask me.
“All right,” returned Cardona. “Why is he coming here?”
“To repeat his crime,” answered Weston promptly. “To perform murder as well as abduction.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
THE quickness of the commissioner’s response took Cardona aback. The detective stared in stupefaction; then, recalling Weston’s statement that he would answer required questions, Cardona put another query.
“How do you know all this, commissioner?”
“Because,” declared Weston, “I have received a letter from the crook himself.”
With that response, the police commissioner unfolded the sheet of paper. He planked it on the desk in front of Cardona’s amazed eyes. A sheet of white paper — a beautifully engraved letterhead in the upper left corner — a series of typewritten lines as the body of the message itself — these lay in plain view.
But to Joe Cardona, these meant nothing at first sight. The detective’s gaze was glued to the bottom of the page, upon the spot where one might have expected a signature to the communication.
The object which Cardona saw there was one that commanded his complete attention. Thrust through two small slits in the sheet of paper was a symbol identical with the one that The Shadow had tonight gained from the dead grasp of the big shot, Rowdy Kirshing.
Detective Joe Cardona was staring at a feather which formed a glistening black-dyed blade against the white paper to which it had been affixed!
CHAPTER IV
THE COMMISSIONER’S PLAN
COMMISSIONER RALPH WESTON stood smiling grimly while his ace detective stared at the queer signature beneath the letter. Then, as Cardona made no immediate effort to read the message itself, Weston offered explanatory suggestions.
“Up here,” remarked the commissioner, pointing to the top corner at the left,” you will find the name by which our correspondent chooses to call himself.”
Cardona looked at the corner indicated. Printed in jet-black was the artistic drawing of a bird. The detective took it to represent an eagle or a hawk. Then, noting three neatly lettered words below the depicted bird, he read them aloud:
“The Black Falcon!”
“The Black Falcon,” repeated the commissioner. “An appropriate name, Cardona, for one who swoops down to gain his prey by night. The falcon, Cardona, is a bird trained in methods of effective capture.”
“The author of this letter calls himself The Black Falcon. If you will read the message, Cardona, you will see why; and I, by watching, may gain an inkling of the effect which The Black Falcon’s statements have upon their reader. When I perused the message myself, I must confess that I was too tense to consider my own reactions.”
Cardona nodded silently. He held the letter before him and scanned the typewritten lines which appeared as follows:
Ralph Weston,
Police Commissioner,
New York City
Dear Sir:
You, as chief representative of the law in New York City, have chosen to concern yourself with the disappearance of one Hubert Apprison.
In order to save you time and annoyance in a futile search for this missing person, I take the liberty of announcing that Hubert Apprison is at present in my charge.
Inasmuch as Hubert Apprison is a man of great wealth, it is my intention to hold him prisoner until I have arranged suitable means of delivering him into the hands of friends. This service is one for which I shall receive a ransom commensurate with my prisoner’s wealth.
Since, however, I am willing to relieve you from trouble in connection with Hubert Apprison, I expect the same courtesy in return. Undue interference on the part of the police will merely disturb my plans — not balk them.
May I suggest that you announce to the public that Hubert Apprison vanished of his own accord? Such a course will relieve you of troublesome responsibility. It will also enable me to conduct quiet negotiations with Apprison’s associates. I can assure you that if you act as I suggest, all will be handled to satisfaction.
I shall look forward to seeing your definite statement in the evening newspapers on the day that you receive this letter. Should you, however, fail to act in accord with my plans, I shall act again, as I did with Apprison, before midnight.
In return for your failure to cooperate, I shall kidnap another person of wealth from within the limits of New York City. My second crime, like the first, will be committed in an area under your jurisdiction.
It will stand as proof of my ability to kidnap and return people at will. My only regret will be that you will have committed the folly of putting my unique skill to the test.
Joe Cardona, when he had finished the reading of this singular epistle, remained in deep thought. Commissioner Weston, watching the detective, was ready for a comment. None came. The commissioner put a question.
“What do you think of it?” be asked.
“When did you receive it?” parried Cardona.
“This afternoon,” was the commissioner’s reply. “Here, at my apartment.”
“I’ve seen a lot of crank notes,” decided Cardona, “but this doesn’t look like one.
“It is too specific,” agreed the commissioner. “Furthermore, if it were intended as a hoax, it would defeat its own purpose—”
“Because it names tonight as the time limit,” interposed Cardona, as Weston paused.