The rising sections of the floor caught the falling bodies and lifted them. They rolled, almost like drowned corpses in the swell of moving waves; then became still.
Gyp Tangoli came suddenly to action. He sprang to the spot where Nicky Donarth lay. He found a key in the dead proprietor’s vest pocket. Seizing it, Gyp dashed to the office. He found the door latched.
Cuyler Willington had attended to that matter. Gyp unlocked the door and entered.
Tumult was sounding from the outside night club. Policemen were fighting their way through the hordes of frantic customers who were battling to gain the exits. There was an outlet at the side, not far from the entrance to the gaming room; but only a few had fled from this exit that lay so near the entrance to the dread room of death.
Blackness emerged suddenly from that unused exit. A figure moved into view. The cloaked form of The Shadow became visible in this deserted spot.
Swiftly, The Shadow swept through the door to the gaming room. His burning eyes saw the bodies on the floor.
Stepping forward. The Shadow eyed dead faces. The whisper that came from his unseen lips was one of grim, fierce understanding. Instantly the link had leaped to his mind. He knew what had caused the death of these victims, all of dark complexion.
Pounding footsteps from the night club. The police had broken through. The Shadow’s gaze swept round about. He pictured the spot where the roulette wheel had been. He knew that the menace was gone.
Swiftly, he headed for the office; he stepped through the unlocked outer door, to the passage beyond.
He tried the inner door; the actual office entrance. It was latched. The Shadow produced a pick.
Police had stopped on the threshold of the gaming room. Their mad dash had ended. The Shadow had counted upon that occurrence. Though accustomed to the sight of death, the bluecoats were stunned by the unaccountable scene that lay before them.
Dark, mysterious death. The incredible result was something that men of the law could not fathom. They waited, wondering what to do, how to move, not realizing that someone had arrived upon the scene before them.
Meanwhile, The Shadow, glimmering his tiny flashlight in the short passage to the office, was working upon the strong lock of Nicky Donarth’s door. For The Shadow knew the cause of murder that had struck. He was seeking the fiend who had delivered death and fled.
CHAPTER XV. TRAILS DIVERGE
GYP TANGOLI had acted with promptness upon his arrival in Nicky Donarth’s office. Astounded by the deaths that he had witnessed, Gyp had been nonplused for a solution to the mystery.
He might have wondered about his own survival, except for the fact that others, too, had lived. He did not realize that the slaughter had been the premeditated work of Cuyler Willington.
For Willington had planned with a craft far beyond Gyp Tangoli’s ken. Fiendishly, the pale-faced crook had designed the death of his ally, Tony Luggeto, along with his enemies, Gyp and Turk. He had also included the treacherous Nicky Donarth in his scheme of murder.
To Willington, men who knew too much were dangerous. He had let Tony Luggeto die as he had sacrificed Congo Mollin. He had fled believing that Gyp Tangoli would surely succumb as had those others of dark-hued complexion.
The lowering of the roulette wheel had been Willington’s final stroke. He had performed that action with confidence, thinking that Gyp Tangoli must surely have died. But Gyp, living, had seen the contrivance drop. Gyp knew enough of the layout at the Club Cadiz to know that the control lay in Nicky’s office.
It was there that Willington must have fled. The dropping of the roulette wheel was Willington’s work, in Gyp’s opinion. But to Gyp’s startled brain, it meant only that Willington must have gained some familiarity with arrangements here. Gyp saw no connection between the roulette wheel and the dark death that had fallen.
Two impulses had motivated Gyp Tangoli. One was pursuit of Willington. The other was his own desire to escape before the police arrived. Thus, upon reaching Nicky’s office, Gyp’s first act was to try the steel door at the left.
Gyp found the barrier bolted on the other side. He realized that Willington had gone in that direction, closing the path behind him. Plans of pursuit changed to those of escape. Bounding across the room, Gyp opened the unlocked door on the right.
Just as the dark-faced crook was about to dash from the office, the telephone began to buzz. Hesitating, Gyp grabbed the instrument from Nicky’s desk. He lifted the receiver and spoke in a low, disguised voice. The response came in a tone that Gyp recognized:
“Is Mr. Tangoli there? I would wish to speak with him.”
It was Mahmud. Hoarsely, Gyp responded.
“This is Gyp Tangoli,” he informed. “What is it, Mahmud? Where are you?”
“I have gone from the apartment, sahib,” came the Hindu’s voice. “The Shadow came there. He has killed Bundha. It is wise not to return, I have gone to the place which you have prepared for an emergency in a time like this—”
“I’ll meet you there,” broke in Gyp.
WITH that, the crook hung up the receiver. He stared momentarily toward the center door of the office.
Gyp’s eyes were wild. He seemed to sense that someone had arrived beyond that barrier. In that impression, Gyp was correct.
For The Shadow had reached the outside of the door at the very moment when Gyp had completed his conversation with Mahmud. Luck had favored the crook. But for the Hindu’s timely warning, Gyp might have lingered. Mention of The Shadow, however, had filled him with apprehension.
Hastily, Gyp Tangoli ducked through the doorway at the right. He closed the barrier behind him and threw the bolt. He made his way along the hidden passage, seeking only to put all possible distance between himself and the illfated Club Cadiz.
Thirty seconds after Gyp’s flight, the door of Nicky’s office opened. The Shadow swept suddenly into view, automatics in readiness. Finding the lighted office empty, he closed the door behind him, locking it.
The Shadow tried the steel door on the left. He found it bolted. He tested the one on the right and made a similar discovery. A soft laugh crept from his lips. The Shadow knew that trails had diverged: that Cuyler Willington had taken one route; Gyp Tangoli the other. For The Shadow had seen neither of those crooks among the dead in the gaming room.
As The Shadow lingered, someone began to pound at the office door. The police had arrived. Hesitation ended, they had crossed the room of death. They were coming to investigate the office. Soon they would begin to shatter the wooden door. Meanwhile, The Shadow stood trapped between two steel barriers, each bolted from the other side.
Again the whispered laugh as The Shadow looked upward. Quickly the black-cloaked personage crossed the office and turned out the light. His ghostly figure stood revealed only by the slight glow that came through the frosted skylight. That illumination showed The Shadow rising atop Nicky’s desk.
His long arms reaching to the low ceiling, The Shadow manipulated the rusty catches that held the skylight shut. As The Shadow worked, a crashing sound came from the door. A policeman was attacking the barrier with an ax.
The skylight yielded, swinging downward on groaning hinges. The Shadow’s figure stretched uncannily as his fingers caught the edges of the opening. Then his form went upward.
The Shadow came out upon a small roof. Lying prone, he drew the skylight up with force. Despite its loosened fastenings, it jammed in place.
The Shadow knew that the police would investigate this outlet. His rising figure looked like a growing shroud as he arose upon the little roof. The glow of city lights outlined his shape in uncanny fashion. The Shadow made for the edge of the roof.