Once started, Osman did not mind talking more. He swung toward Archie: "I knew that you and Silk were staging something. So I got rid of Rendrew.
It was the one way I could be sure of getting the chunk of the estate that was due me. As for you" - he swung to Dwight again - "I sent you that forged letter, to bring you here.
"I fixed the clues, including the airplane schedule that I stuffed in Dogan"s cab while he was at the Busy Bee. I called him, told him to be around after nine. I"d counted on you finding your uncle dead, when you arrived. I thought you"d sneak out and grab the first cab you saw."
A bitter smile framed Osman"s lips. It showed regret for plans gone wrong, yet a satisfaction also, at the way in which schemes had stood the strain.
"Helene happened to be here," remarked Osman, "and Rendrew was still alive. But the whole thing worked as well as I expected. The next day, I cleared out the evidence. If it had been found in the meantime" - Osman chuckled gleefully - "it would have been blamed on Archie, never upon myself!"
Gradually, Osman"s chortle diminished. His eyes took on a vicious glare.
Sweeping the group with his ugly gaze, he a.s.serted: "I"ve got six bullets in this gun! One for each of you! I may not kill all of you" - he was flourishing the revolver - "but you won"t stop my getaway!
It"s my turn to use that side door, and afterward" - he gritted the next threat - "I"m going to get the man who figured out my game and planted fake evidence to match the clues that I destroyed. Yes! I"m going to get -"
Osman did not add the name: "The Shadow." A strange laugh interrupted, quivering from the hallway. The Shadow was present to announce himself. He was swinging through the doorway, an automatic in his fist.
But it seemed that The Shadow, at last, had laughed once too soon.
THE SHADOW stumbled, half across the threshold. Helene, nearest to him, leaped from her chair to aid his stumbling form. She didn"t realize that The Shadow had tripped purposely. His stumble was a bait to bring Osman"s gun away from the others, toward The Shadow"s own direction.
Cardona grabbed the table by the leg and wheeled to batter Osman with the improvised weapon. The killer was stepping back, aiming coolly for The Shadow, not realizing that a snap of a black-sleeved wrist was bringing a gloved hand to an aim more rapid than his. At that instant, there was a sharp report.
It didn"t come from The Shadow"s gun. Nor did Osman fire it, for the murderer was crumpling. A curl of smoke issued from between two books in the center of a shelf. It vanished, as the flame-seared volumes pressed together.
The cord leading to the table lamp went taut, then jerked clear. It whipped snakily over the tops of the books and disappeared. From below came a faint clang, as the death gun struck the partly-padded bottom of the hot-air shaft. The gun had been sent there by its own recoil.
John Osman had backed across the path of the black beam!
The murderer had taken the identical death that he had delivered to Adam Rendrew. Sprawled on the floor, a bullet through his spine, Osman had added the last touch that vindicated Dwight Kelden of past crime!
While eyes were staring toward the dead killer, The Shadow"s laugh trailed. Helene reached the doorway, saw that the hall was empty. Then, while she still hoped for a last glimpse of The Shadow, Dwight arrived beside her.
Cardona had relieved the prisoner of his handcuffs. Dwight"s arms infolding her, Helene felt herself drawn into the hallway, where she learned the thrill of an embrace that she had awaited during many months of longing.
From somewhere deep in the old house, trailing an eerie note of triumph that stirred weird, lingering echoes from every nook and alcove, came the parting laugh of The Shadow!
THE END.