Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 129 - Crime,Insured

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CRIME, INSURED
Maxwell Grant
This page copyright © 2001 Blackmask Online.
http://www.blackmask.com
? CHAPTER I. CRIME'S FORECAST
? CHAPTER II. WALLY'S SUBSTITUTE
? CHAPTER III. THE DOUBLE SURPRISE
? CHAPTER IV. CARDONA SOLVES A CRIME
? CHAPTER V. DUKE COLLECTS
? CHAPTER VI. THE SHADOW STRIKES
? CHAPTER VII. THE LAST PAY-OFF
? CHAPTER VIII. CRIME'S INTERLUDE
? CHAPTER IX. CRIME'S PROFITEER
? CHAPTER X. CRIME SPREADS THE DRAGNET
? CHAPTER XI. TO THE SANCTUM
? CHAPTER XII. TRAP OF DEATH
? CHAPTER XIII. BELOW AND ABOVE
? CHAPTER XIV. BRADTHAW MAKES A DEAL
? CHAPTER XV. THE SHADOW'S MOVES
? CHAPTER XVI. CRIME TAKES A LOSS
? CHAPTER XVII. CRIME'S ULTIMATUM
? CHAPTER XVIII. FRANCINE EXPLAINS
? CHAPTER XIX. MESSAGE OF DOOM
? CHAPTER XX. CHANGED DEATH
? CHAPTER XXI. CROOKS CLAIM WEALTH
? CHAPTER XXII. THE LAW LEARNS
CHAPTER I. CRIME'S FORECAST
WALLY DRILLICK stood before the big mirror in the living room of his swank apartment. He was
adjusting his black bow tie with the utmost care. Wally was most particular about his appearance when
he wore tuxedo attire. It was necessary in his specialized profession.
Wally was a crook who worked on a deluxe scale. A good dresser, a smooth talker, he could wangle his
way into any social circle. Wally was handsome; and conscious of it. That also helped his cause. All in all,
Wally had proven himself most useful to big-shots like "Duke" Unrig.
Wally was thinking of that very fact when he finished preening himself in the mirror. He placed a cigarette
in a monogrammed holder and seated himself in an easy chair to enjoy a smoke. It was not quite time to
start on tonight's expedition; hence Wally had opportunity to consider recent events.
Crime had gone ultra-modern in Manhattan. Big-shots - like Duke Unrig - had discarded old-fashioned
methods. They staged their latest jobs with clock-like precision, accompanied by streamlined speed.
Tough-mugged hoodlums had been shoved to the background. Instead, the big-shots used smooth
workers like Wally - who spent their leisure hours in smart night clubs and high-priced taprooms, instead
of underworld dives.
Of course, there were the "finger men" - the lads who slipped the information to the big-shots. They
worked as doormen, waiters, or other attendants in clubs, hotels and apartments. Some of the finger men
were chauffeurs or butlers in private homes; good places from which to point out spots for crime.
Duke Unrig was one big-shot who handled the racket right. From dope that his finger men gave him,
Duke mapped his campaigns. His orders went to chaps like Wally; and the well-oiled machinery moved.
Wally had found every job a cinch. Loot was plentiful; the hauls were large. Duke received the proceeds
and saw to it that Wally and the other gentlemen crooks received enough cash to live in lavish style.
Duke still had tough guys on his pay roll: "trigger men" who liked to use their gats. Those "torpedoes"
were necessary, in case of emergency. They were under strict orders, though, to use the soft pedal; to
keep out of sight unless the jobs went sour.
So far, none of Wally's expeditions had produced the slightest difficulty. In Wally's conceited opinion,
Duke's trigger-handlers were totally unnecessary.
In fact, Duke had been ready to dispense with his gunmen, until some other big-shots had encountered
trouble. Oddly, some smooth jobs had been slipping lately. Wise criminals had been running into
unexpected obstacles; sometimes the police had received timely tip-offs.
The newspaper on Wally's mahogany table told how the law had bagged a well-dressed crook and four
wanted thugs who were disguised as truckmen. The five had been loading rare paintings into a moving
van, from a millionaire's Long Island residence.
The millionaire's servants had actually been helping the thieves, thinking that the pictures were going to an
art exhibition. The police had arrived in time to interfere. Who had passed the tip-off, was still a mystery
to the big-shot who had arranged the game.
That was but one case of thwarted crime. Roughly, Wally estimated that the percentage of successful
jobs had been cut in half during the past month. His opinion - again an egotistical one - was that the field
had overcrowded, making less good workers available. Big-shots other than Duke Unrig were
handicapped. They did not have the services of men like Wally Drillick.
THERE was a thumping at the apartment door. Wally discarded his cigarette and strolled over to answer
the knock. A pasty-faced delivery man extended a box of laundry. Wally paid him three dollars and forty
cents.
As soon as the man had gone, the crook opened the package. Between two starched shirts, Wally found
an envelope.
It contained a message from Duke; it referred to the "Melrue job" and mentioned contact at the Top Hat
Club. With the message was a table reservation at the night club, also a faked membership card to a
fraternal order that bore the name of James Ludas from Cincinnati. Wally had used credentials like these
before.
Duke's note added two other details. After he burned the message, Wally took care of those points.
He went into a bedroom; opened a bureau drawer and produced a thick silk handkerchief that had two
thin slits, artfully cut near the center of its expensive fabric. Reaching behind the drawer, he brought a
stubby revolver from a hidden compartment. He placed the weapon in his hip pocket.
Going out through the living room, Wally stopped long enough to pick up the newspaper and turn to the
society page. He smiled suavely at the printed portrait of a light-haired girl, whose eyes carried a
vivacious sparkle, apparent even in the coarse-screened newspaper photograph. Her features were of
even formation, with the possible exception of her chin, which showed determination. That pleased
Wally.
"You're a good-looker, kid," he said, in a low-purred tone. "Too bad you won't be around when I call.
Maybe it's all for the better, though. I'll remember the address. Maybe I'll drop in some time, without
this."
By "this," Wally meant the silk handkerchief that served him as a mask. He dangled it in front of the
photograph, then pocketed it. He studied the picture once more.
He read the name beneath it: Francine Melrue. The caption stated that she was to be on the reception
committee of a charity ball that was being held tonight.
What the society report did not mention was the fact that Francine Melrue had recently become heir to
half of a million-dollar estate left by her deceased uncle. The girl's brother, George, had received an equal
amount. In the apportionment, Francine had been given family gems valued at one hundred thousand
dollars.
Those jewels, Wally happened to know, were somewhere in the apartment that Francine Melrue
occupied. Wally's job was to pick up the gems during the girl's absence. The task was entirely smoothed
over, the final details would be awaiting at the Top Hat Club.
Donning a light overcoat, Wally made sure that a pair of gray kid gloves were in the pocket. They were
important, for they eliminated finger prints. Standing in front of the mirror, Wally adjusted a natty derby
hat upon his head. Lighting a fresh cigarette, he strolled to the door.
He paused long enough to transfer the revolver to an overcoat pocket. Since a gun had been mentioned
in Duke's orders, Wally preferred to have it handy.
THERE was only one inconvenience about the apartment house where Wally Drillick resided. It was
rather secluded; and taxis were not always on hand. Wally made it a practice to allow for a few minutes'
delay in case the doorman had to summon a cab.
Tonight, Wally was in luck. When he reached the sidewalk, he saw a shiny, streamlined cab parked in
the hack space out front.
The driver opened the rear door as soon as Wally appeared. The crook saw an eager, pointed face
peering from the front seat. The hackle questioned:
"Where to, sir?"
Wally named the Top Hat Club as he stepped aboard. The driver nodded to show that he knew the
address. The door slammed shut; the cab was in motion. Wally settled back to draw a long puff from his
fancy cigarette holder. He heard a slight stir in the darkness beside him.
Quickly, Wally shifted. A passing street lamp gave his eyes a momentary view of a black-cloaked figure.
Wally caught the glow of burning eyes beneath the brim of a slouch hat. He sped his ungloved hand for
his overcoat pocket, plucked out the stubby revolver and swung the muzzle toward the being beside
him.
The glimmer of the gun was seen by those burning eyes. A black-gloved hand sped forward with
trip-hammer speed. Before Wally could hook the trigger with his forefinger, his wrist was twisted in a
clamping grip. The crook doubled to the floor, writhing in the clutch of an expert jujutsu hold.
In three brief seconds, Wally guessed the identity of his powerful antagonist. He was in the grip of The
Shadow, superfoe to crime!
To The Shadow, all crooks were alike, whether they dwelt in the scummy badlands or posed as
members of society's upper crust. The Shadow had his own methods of handling evildoers. He
demonstrated them in the case of Wally Drillick.
As the stubby revolver thudded the floor of the speeding taxi, The Shadow's free hand gained a grip on
Wally's flailing left arm. The crook performed a half somersault; came up to tug at a hand that held his
throat. Wrenching his neck free, Wally planked his head against the cab door; it tilted his chin upward at
a desirable angle. The Shadow's fist delivered a well-placed jab.
Wally Drillick felt the jolt in two places: against his lower jaw and the top of his skull. It had a telescopic
effect, as if his head had suddenly compressed. The tuxedoed crook crumpled on the cab floor. That
punch was the sort that remained good for ten minutes.
The Shadow spoke an order to the cab driver. The taxi changed course; threaded among narrow streets.
Meanwhile, a tiny flashlight glimmered in the back seat.
The Shadow plucked objects from Wally's pockets and examined them in the glow. A soft, whispered
laugh sounded from invisible lips beneath the hat brim.
Rolling Wally face downward, The Shadow peeled off the criminal's topcoat. He replaced all items,
including the revolver, in the overcoat pocket. Wally's derby was lying on the seat. The Shadow bundled
it with the topcoat, and laid both in a corner.
The cab stopped in front of an empty side-street house. The door opened. The Shadow stepped to the
curb and gave a sibilant hiss. Two men arrived from the shelter of the house steps; at The Shadow's
order, they hauled Wally's senseless form from the cab and carried it through a basement door beneath
house steps.
From the sidewalk, The Shadow spoke an order to the cab driver. The taxi wheeled away. Obscured in
the darkness, The Shadow moved in the opposite direction. He was gone when his two agents came
from the house, locking the basement door behind them.
The Shadow had temporarily disposed of Wally Drillick. The smooth-working sharper was out of the
running tonight. That did not mean that Duke Unrig's plans would not go further. On the contrary, The
Shadow had arranged for them to continue; but not with Wally as the active worker.
Tonight's crime was to reach a point that The Shadow desired. That point would mark its finish. Like
Wally Drillick, Duke Unrig was to experience a jolt. One that the big-shot would remember.
Crime that seemed sure was due for failure. Such was The Shadow's forecast.
CHAPTER II. WALLY'S SUBSTITUTE
HALF an hour later, the streamlined taxicab stopped at the glittering entrance of the Top Hat Club. The
cab had picked up a passenger on the way - a keen-cut young man who made a better appearance than
Wally. When he stepped from the cab, this new passenger was wearing Wally's derby and topcoat.
The young man was Harry Vincent, The Shadow's most trusted agent. It was Harry's job to take over
Wally's route so that crooks would not know that tonight's crime was slated for failure.
At the cloakroom, Harry left the hat and topcoat. He was wearing a tuxedo of his own; and he had
transferred all Wally's belongings to its pockets, with the exception of the gray kid gloves. They remained
in the topcoat pocket.
The Top Hat Club was not overlarge. Its tables were placed on steplike tiers, forming three sides of a
hollow square. The central space was for dancing; later, there would be a floor show. The entertainers
alone used a small stage at the far end of the dance floor.
Lights were dim. It was difficult to recognize people as they walked between the tables. That suited
Harry Vincent. It was one reason why The Shadow had sent him here openly. No one would remember
Harry afterword.
It was not a case of Harry passing for Wally Drillick. The Shadow had been watching Wally for some
time, and knew how the smooth man of the underworld worked. Duke Unrig never arranged contacts at
the places where Wally usually went. Information always awaited Wally at some night spot where he was
unknown. If something went wrong, Wally would simply pass as a chance visitor.
Proof that Wally was unknown at the Top Hat Club was apparent from the card that bore the name of
James Ludas. That card was at present in Harry's pocket.
So was the card that held the table reservation. Harry found the table - a small one set for two persons.
It was just past a large pillar, two steps up from the dance floor. Harry showed the reservation to a
waiter and took one of the chairs.
There was a lighted lamp on the table; it was shaded. Harry had no difficulty shifting to a position where
his face was away from the glow.
It was not long before an assistant head waiter arrived, to inquire:
"You are expecting someone else, sir?"
Harry nodded. He was watching the dance floor while he fitted a cigarette into Wally's fancy holder.
Since the table was set for two, Harry decided that a nod was the right answer.
It suited the head waiter. Apparently, he expected stalling tactics from the man at the table. The fellow
put another question:
"May I see your reservation again, sir?"
The tone signified something more. Reaching into his inside pocket, Harry produced two cards: the table
reservation and the identification card that bore the name of James Ludas.
As the head waiter drew the upper card away, he saw the lower one. He gave an understanding whisper.
Harry pocketed the Ludas card.
The head waiter spread a menu on the table. His lips were close to Harry's ear. In an undertone, the man
repeated:
"Apartment. Time - 9:05. Over hatbox. Chime."
THE head waiter was gone. Harry glanced at his watch. It was twenty minutes after eight. He watched
the dance floor for a short while; then strolled from the table.
Harry picked up the hat and coat at the cloakroom. As he reached the street, he felt for the kid gloves.
His fingers crinkled a slip of paper, evidently slipped in the pocket in the cloakroom.
Once in a cab, Harry read the note that provided added information:
Bedroom window opens above next roof. Trapdoor leads to inside
stairway. Use in pinch. Leave rest to outside crew.
From a cigar store, Harry made a telephone call. As soon as he had dialed the required number, an even
voice responded:
"Burbank speaking."
Burbank was The Shadow's contact man, who relayed information between active agents and their
mysterious chief. Harry gave the facts to Burbank; quietly, the contact man told him to stand by.
In five minutes, there was a return call.
Harry was to go to the Adair Apartments, where Francine Melrue lived. He was to proceed as Duke
Unrig expected Wally to perform; but he was to force the pinch that Duke mentioned but did not want.
To produce the emergency, Harry had merely to wait in the apartment until trouble began.
THE Adair Apartments fronted on a side street just off Lexington Avenue. Harry arrived at the entrance
a few minutes after nine. Eyeing the street, he saw that it was deserted.
There was a service entrance just past the far wall of the apartment house; and there were some good
lurking spots farther down the street. Those could serve the outside crew; but they were too far away for
any one of them to note a difference between Harry and Wally Drillick.
What Harry did not notice was a house directly opposite the apartment building. Its first floor was a small
restaurant. Its second story was dark.
There were eyes watching from a blackened window on the second floor. A well-concealed observer
spotted Harry Vincent. Harry had a minute to wait until five minutes after nine.
When Harry entered the foyer of the apartment house, he saw an office near the elevator. A clerk was
busy at the switchboard, answering a deluge of calls that were crowding in all at one time. The elevator
operator, a dull, long-faced fellow, was leaning over the counter. Harry heard him ask:
"Is Fred on the telephone, Mr. Deedham?"
The clerk answered impatiently.
"Get back to the elevator, Eddie. If Fred calls, I'll tell you!"
"But he's supposed to relieve me at nine o'clock."
"I know! He's late. He'll be docked for it."
"That won't help me. I got an important date."
Harry was entering the elevator. Eddie came back to run the car. Muttering his opinion of Fred, Eddie
scarcely noticed the tuxedoed passenger who was aboard. He started the car upward.
Harry said "Sixth" and Eddie stopped at that floor. The operator was still mumbling when Harry left the
elevator.
FRANCINE MELRUE'S apartment was No. 6H. Harry found the door unlocked. He entered and
noted pitch-blackness. He closed the door and turned on the lights.
Window shades were drawn; the door to the bedroom was closed. Unquestionably, someone who
worked in the apartment house had seen to these details. That person would have a perfect alibi later.
Such was the way with the finger men employed by Duke Unrig. They paved the way for workers like
Wally Drillick, but were careful to do nothing more. That completely misled the police when they studied
scenes of crime for signs of an inside job.
So far, Harry had followed Duke's instructions as capably as Wally could have. His next step was to
look for a telltale hatbox. Harry saw it, resting beside the wall, near a corner chair.
Apparently, that hatbox had been put there accidentally. Harry knew otherwise. He looked directly
above it and saw a square-framed painting on the wall.
All the while, Harry had been wearing the gray kid gloves. The time had come for another precaution that
Wally had regarded as unnecessary, but upon which Duke had insisted. It was one that was to serve
Harry later, so he made preparation.
Harry produced Wally's silk mask and carefully arranged it to cover his face. He fixed it so that he could
see through the narrow slits.
Harry's gloved hands gripped the picture frame. It was tight against the wall, but a few shifts enabled
Harry to find how it was fastened. The painting came away. Harry laid it on the hatbox. His lips smiled
beneath the silk mask, as he noticed an open space where the picture had been.
Harry saw the door of a small wall safe, protected by a most effective device: a letter lock. The middle of
the door showed five small letters, like the figures on a speedometer. At present, those letters formed the
medley:
BZRSQ
With gloved fingers, Harry turned each cylinder, bringing new letters of the alphabet into view. He
reached the ones he wanted and adjusted them so that they formed an exact line, spelling he word:
CHIME
When Harry gripped the knob beside the letter lock, the door of the wall safe came open. Harry found a
stack of jewel cases. Opening them in quick progression, he took out the gems, placing each emptied
case with the picture on the hatbox.
The jewels formed a double handful; but Harry managed them with one hand by holding it against his
coat. Harry was a fair judge of gems; he recognized that this collection was certainly worth the one
hundred thousand dollars of estimated value.
One old-fashioned finger ring was mounted with a huge emerald - one of the finest green stones that
Harry had ever seen. There was a ruby-studded brooch, a diamond necklace, pendants that contained
excellent sapphires. Other rings and bracelets glistened with diamonds of smaller size; but if those gems
were flawless, their value would run high.
The last item in the safe was a purse of woven platinum, that crinkled when Harry brought it out. It made
a fair-sized bag, large enough to hold the gems, if they were lightly packed. The purse would he useful
later. For the present, Harry did not intend to use it.
He pocketed the purse and waited beside the wall safe.
Tensely, the minutes passed. If Harry had been Wally, he could have put away the loot and made a cool
departure either by the elevator or the window, according to which he preferred. For the present, Harry
intended neither.
He was following Duke's orders no longer. From this point on, The Shadow's instructions were in
operation.
Soon, The Shadow's plans were to produce a startling development that would bring crooks into the
open. The Shadow was ready to force the issue with the hidden big-shot, Duke Unrig.
CHAPTER III. THE DOUBLE SURPRISE
WHILE Harry Vincent waited in Apartment 6H, Fred, the tardy elevator man, arrived in the downstairs
foyer. Fred was a poker-faced fellow. He formed a distinct contrast to Eddie. In fact, it was Fred's
superior ability that had caused the management to put him on the important night shift.
"Sorry I'm late, Mr. Deedham," began Fred, stopping at the office. "It won't happen again, sir -"
"Yeah?" It was Eddie who interrupted, as he came from the elevator. "Well, it happens that you picked
the one night I had a date."
"That's serious," laughed Fred, eyeing the other operator. "I guess you're only due for about one date in a
lifetime!"
Deedham remarked that he would have to dock Fred as a matter of policy. Fred looked disgruntled;
then nudged his thumb at Eddie.
"You ought to dock this bird all the time," said Fred. "There's a lot of rules he doesn't follow. Like taking
people up in the elevator without asking who they are, or where they're going."
Eddie looked sheepish. Fred had picked his weak point. The long-faced operator started to say
something, then decided against it.
"I get it," grinned Fred. "I'll bet you slipped on that very order this evening!"
"I guess I did," admitted Eddie. He turned to the clerk. "There was a fellow went up about ten minutes
ago, while you were at the switchboard, Mr. Deedham."
"You didn't ask who he was?"
"No, sir. He got off at the sixth and hasn't come down. I didn't notice him close, except that he looked all
right."
Deedham made a note on a slip of paper. He told Eddie to go off duty; then spoke to Fred:
"Watch for the fellow. Find out who he is, when he comes down."
Fred entered the elevator. His back turned to Deedham, the operator showed a wise look. Everything
was working right. Fred was the finger man who served Duke Unrig. He had come here late for a definite
purpose. Fred had been sure that his lateness would make Eddie jittery enough to forget the rule about
questioning persons who went up in the elevator.
As matters stood, Eddie would be blamed for the robbery when it was discovered. He would be fired
for negligence. Fred would remain on the job, in high standing, completely supported by Deedham's
testimony.
Fred had found out that Eddie did not remember what the visitor looked like. That made everything right
for Wally.
Fred's job was to flag the crook when he rang from the sixth floor and tell Wally to slide out by the
window. He could report to Deedham that there had been no one waiting for the elevator. That would
start a lot of excitement, with Wally safely away.
PASSING minutes made Fred decide that Wally had already gone through the window. That made it all
the better. Standing in the open elevator, Fred was just about ready to approach Deedham and start
talking about the mystery man on the sixth floor, when a girl came hurrying into the foyer.
Fred's poker face changed slightly. He recognized Francine Melrue. The girl had come from the charity
ball in haste, for her evening wrap was almost slipping from her shoulders. Francine stopped at the office
with the worried question:
"Has my brother arrived yet?"
"I have not seen Mr. Melrue," expressed the clerk, in a surprised tone. "I - I thought, Miss Melrue, that
-"
"I know. George and I have not been on the best of terms. That does not matter. I received a message
that George wanted to see me here at once."
Fred had a shrewd idea. Wally had probably cleared out and called Duke. This could be a stunt to shift
the blame elsewhere. Stepping from the elevator, Fred remarked:
"Maybe it was Mr. Melrue that Eddie took up to the sixth."
"Of course!" exclaimed Deedham. Then, to Francine: "Possibly your brother is upstairs in the
apartment."
Fred took Francine up to the sixth floor. Obligingly, he kept the elevator there. Fred expected the girl to
come hurrying out with screams about a robbery. Fred was due for a surprise.
As soon as Francine opened the apartment door, she saw the lighted living room. She looked about as
she entered, and spied Harry a moment later.
The girl stopped short, as she viewed the masked face beneath the derby hat. She saw Harry's gloved
left hand with its load of gems.
Instead of faltering, Francine showed spunk. She sprang across the room to snatch at the jewels and the
mask.
Harry, faking that he was surprised by the girl's entry, was up against a real predicament. He solved it by
pushing Francine away with a quick arm-thrust. Harry started for the door of the bedroom.
On the way, he whipped off the derby hat and poured the jewels into it. Holding the bowler like a
football, nestled in his left arm, Harry reached to his pocket with his right. He brought out Wally's
revolver, to bluff a threat against Francine.
Harry's shove had sent the girl against a corner table. When Harry turned, Francine had opened a
drawer. The girl was pointing a .32 in Harry's direction. She had him covered before he gained a chance
to aim Wally's gun.
"STAND where you are!" ordered Francine, in a strained tone. "Drop that gun!"
There was bravery in the girl's voice. Harry saw the determined chin that Wally had admired. He knew
that Francine had nerve enough to shoot. Harry dropped the stubby gun.
"Now the jewels." Francine spoke louder, more briskly. "Put them on that chair!"
She nudged her revolver toward the center of the room to indicate the chair. A moment later, she again
had Harry covered. Slowly, Harry started to obey the girl's order. As he did, he heard sneaky steps in
the hallway.
Harry guessed right when he decided that some crook was making an approach. It was Fred. The finger
man had heard Francine's voice and knew what was up. This was something not in The Shadow's plans.
Harry was supposed to be away, with the jewels, before any others came. It was a tight spot for Harry;
in the emergency, he thought quickly.
Francine had brought her gun from deep in a lower table drawer. There was a chance that the girl had
kept it there unloaded. There was also a possibility that whoever had inspected this room some time ago
had found the gun. A smart finger man might have unloaded the weapon, just in case something like this
might happen.
Chances were even, as Harry saw them. He was ready for the risk. He gave a shrug as he put the derby
on the chair. His motion was slow, reluctant; it suddenly changed to speed. Twisting from the chair,
Harry made a dive for Francine's gun hand.
He had the girl's wrist before she could press the trigger. The gun went upward, its muzzle pointed wide.
Francine managed a tug. The gun went off.
Harry was wrong in his guess; but that no longer mattered. The shot had missed. Harry was plucking the
smoking weapon from Francine's fingers.
Francine still showed bustle. She grabbed for the lost gun. She clawed for Harry's mask. Her evening
wrap fell as she grappled; with arms free, Francine showed determined opposition until Harry caught one
of her wrists in a backhand grasp. He spun the girl around; held her helpless beside him.
Panting, Francine glared upward at the silk mask, trying to guess the features that it covered.
Past the girl, Harry saw Fred at the door. The finger man had drawn a revolver. Harry shook his head, to
indicate that the gun would not be needed. Thinking the masked man to be Wally, Fred put away the
weapon.
Though Harry regretted it, there was only one way to handle Francine and keep her safe from actual
crooks. That was to put her far enough away for Harry to manage escape by the window. Harry relaxed
his grip.
摘要：

CRIME,INSUREDMaxwellGrantThispagecopyright©2001BlackmaskOnline.http://www.blackmask.com?CHAPTERI.CRIME'SFORECAST?CHAPTERII.WALLY'SSUBSTITUTE?CHAPTERIII.THEDOUBLESURPRISE?CHAPTERIV.CARDONASOLVESACRIME?CHAPTERV.DUKECOLLECTS?CHAPTERVI.THESHADOWSTRIKES?CHAPTERVII.THELASTPAY-OFF?CHAPTERVIII.CRIME'SINTERL...

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