Greed, crime, and apathy plaque all. Evil lurks around every corner as well as within the hearts of men. There are but few who seek to bring Justice to those who would harm others. Among them, a lone figure with the power to cloud the minds of others and the ability to meld with the darkness that sprung him. Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? The Shadow knows!
New York City, 1938
“Lane,” she said, tilting her head slightly as she smiled. “My name is Margot Lane.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Miss Lane,” Lamont said. His eyes swept over the woman, taking in her obvious beauty. However, there was something else about her. Something not so obvious…
“I hope I’m not disturbing you, but I wanted to introduce myself,” Margot said. “My uncle and I were at the Shoeshine Club last night, but you left rather abruptly before he could arrange for us to meet.”
“Your uncle?”
“The mayor,” she replied, blushing slightly. “He said you were back in town recently, and since I was new to the city, he thought you might enjoy showing me the sights. I suppose he thought you would want to reacquaint yourself with New York, Mr. Cranston.”
Lamont ran a hand through his slick, black hair. The cool morning air bit slightly at his lips, but it was far from the worst winter the city had seen. Since his return, his nightlife had preempted him from catching up on his favorite hotspots. Perhaps he would show this attractive young lady around town.
“I suppose you’re here to meet your uncle?” Lamont guessed.
“Yes. He said this business with Big Boy wouldn’t take too long. We’re going to grab an early lunch. I had a feeling you would be around, and the next thing I know, there you are!”
“Big Boss.”
“Pardon?” she asked, leaning forward, an eyebrow raised slightly.
“You said boy,” he explained. “This whole business is over a man named Big Boss Francis Turiano. He was apprehended late last night after an anonymous tip was called into the local police precinct. I’m not quite sure of all the details, but I believe your very uncle has important light to shed on the subject.”
“Well, whatever the reason I was hoping--”
Lamont turned quickly at the sound of a car horn blaring loudly behind them. Normally he wouldn’t give the annoying noise a second thought, but this car horn was a unique one. It belonged to his personal driver, a cabbie named Moe Shrevnitz. Moe was waiting exactly where Lamont had left him that morning, resting by the curb outside the courthouse. The driver was sitting behind the wheel of the yellow cab, an anxious look on his face.
“I’m sorry,” Lamont said, turning back to face Margot. “I just remembered I have an important engagement that I can’t afford to be late for. Shareholders’ meeting. Very important. Another time, Miss Lane!” he called over his shoulder.
Lamont, in his usual manner of self-importance, quickly made his way to the waiting cab, yanking the back door open. Moe stepped on the gas before the door was even closed and the yellow cab launched out from the curb. Other cars swerved to avoid the cabbie’s mad route as Moe used the car to dive deeper into the city.
“Morning, boss,” Moe said. The smell of onions permeated the inside of the automobile, a reminder of his simple breakfast.
“What’s going on, Moe,” Lamont replied. As with each time he slipped into the back of this cab, his voice once again darkened and became raspy. It was like a metamorphosis had overtaken him, the morning light even bending slightly in the back of the cab.
“Message from Burbank,” the driver replied as he passed a folded piece of paper to the backseat. “Marked as urgent. Thought you would want to know about it A.S.A.P.”
Lamont all but ripped the paper from Moe’s hand, unfolding it as quick as he could. Of all Lamont’s agents, Burbank was the most trusted and loyal, except for maybe Moe. If Burbank said he needed the information now, he meant it. While Moe guided Lamont through the streets of New York, Burbank guided Lamont’s own agents, coordinating their efforts and maintaining contact. His job as a radio and telephone operator put him in the perfect position to intercept and pass along valuable information.
“The secret formula that Professor Tuttle was developing has been stolen!” Lamont exclaimed. “Head to the docks, Moe.”
“Sure thing,” the driver complied, sending the car hurtling down a side street. “Who’s this professor guy?”
“One of my agents. Tuttle recently came to the city in search of another scientist to aid him in his research only to find his colleague murdered and his own life in danger. Someone had contracted a hired killer to eliminate him. I put him in a safe house so he could finish his work but apparently someone has found him!”
“What kind of secret formula is this guy cooking up?” Moe asked. The driver seemed more concerned with the question than he was the elderly woman he nearly ran over.
“It wouldn’t be a secret if I told you,” Lamont said with a smirk. “Just get me down to the docks. That’s where I planted Professor Tuttle and that’s where I’ll begin my search. Before long the Shadow will get to the bottom of this…”
~~~-<>-~~~
“Who are you? Go away!”
The aged man peaked through a mail slot, shouting from behind the door. He seemed greatly agitated and so far hadn’t let the door budge open an inch. There was only one entrance into the small building that had once been used as a fisherman’s office and the older man was doing his best to seal it.
“Relax, Professor!” Lamont said. His voice was calm and almost melodious, a tactic he often used during business transactions. “My name is Lamont Cranston and I am also an agent of the Shadow. He sent me to make sure you were all right after he learned your formula was stolen.”
“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” the man said through the mail slot. His eyes peered through the small opening, trying to size up the man wishing to enter. He looked clean and friendly enough, but the professor was too timid to take any risks.
The clean-cut man who had identified himself as Lamont stuck out his right hand for the professor to see. Tightly grasping his middle finger was a silver ring with a red stone embedded in the center. It was reaching noon, but the sun still shown at enough of an angle for it to cast a ray over the polished stone, reflecting up into the professor’s eyes.
“Ah, I see,” he said before opening the door from within.
Lamont entered the small domicile as if this was his first time there, looking awkwardly around the room. Little did the professor know that as the Shadow, Lamont had used this safe house on more than one occasion.
“Good to meet you then,” the professor said as he reached to shake Lamont’s hand, his own ring an exact duplicate of the one he had just been shown. “I take it my message got through to the Shadow then?”
“Yes, it was routed his way and he told me to come here immediately.”
“It’s terrible!” Professor Tuttle suddenly hollered, throwing his hands into the air slightly. “You must get me to the Shadow so I can tell him myself what has happened!”
“Easy, Professor…” Lamont said to try and relax the aged man. “The Shadow is indisposed right now, but he said for you to tell me exactly what happened. Rest assured I’ll see to it that the Shadow knows what has happened.”
“Well…all right,” he finally agreed. The pair moved across the room to a set of small, yet comfortable chairs. Lamont noticed the room had become slightly chaotic since he had moved the professor in. Beakers, test tubes, burners, various chemicals, and rifled notebooks lay strewn about the room. He wasn’t sure if the mess had something to do with the robbery or if the professor was just a natural slob.
“Start at the beginning,” Lamont said. “What happened to the secret formula?”
“A group of men broke in while I was sleeping last night,” he began. “They roused me from my bed upstairs with all the noise they were making down here. You can see how everything is thrown about with little regard to tidiness. How stupid I was! I shouldn’t have left all my work on the tables for anyone to see. I should have locked it all up!”
“Did you recognize any of them?”
“I crept down the stairs just enough to see the tops of their heads,” the professor answered as he pointed to the top of the old, wooden stairs lined with dust. “I don’t think they knew I was here. None of them even looked my way. They ransacked the place and took my notes on the formula along with the samples I had derived. Whoever they were, they knew enough about chemistry to know what to take! I didn’t recognize anyone, but they all had tattoos on their forearms.”
“Tattoos, you say?” Lamont’s face lit up at the mention of the distinguishing marks. He now how an idea of who had perpetrated the crime and with luck he would find them soon. “What kind of tattoos?”
“It was hard to tell,” Tuttle responded. His already wrinkled brow wrinkled even more as he tried to concentrate on the memory. “It was something long that wrapped around the bulk of their forearms…a chain perhaps? I’ve seen sailors with tattoos similar to them; usually a chain attached to an anchor. We are next to the docks after all…”
“Could it have been a snake you saw?” Lamont asked. His suspicions had been raised and he hoped he was zeroing in on the culprits. If what he thought was correct, he knew exactly what had happened.
“A snake! Yes! I believe it was a snake I saw on each man’s arm. At least, those who had their sleeves rolled up. There were a half dozen men here and I think three or four of them had the tattoo that I could make out. Do you know them? Do you know where the formula is?”
Professor Tuttle was obviously growing impatient and Lamont understood the frustration the man must be experiencing. For years the professor had been trying to develop his formula and he had sacrificed much for his work. To have it all suddenly ripped away from him must have been almost too much to bear.
“I’ll relay all of this to the Shadow as fast as I can,” Lamont said as he stood to leave. “Don’t worry, Professor. Your work won’t be lost. The Shadow will retrieve that which was stolen from you. Just have faith.”
Before the professor could argue Lamont left the small building, closing the door behind him. He jogged the short distance back to where Moe sat in the cab, the engine still running.
“Moving out again, boss?”
“You bet, Moe. Looks like I’ll be visiting the Kobra Klub tonight. Take me back to the mansion first, though. I’ll wait for nightfall before seeing them.”
The cab lurched forward and shot down the pier, a flock of seagulls desperately flapping their wings to avoid being hit. Lamont looked over his shoulder at the safe house where the older man remained, happy at least that he would finally be able to solve the murder of the professor’s colleague as he now suspected the two matters were related.
~~~-<>-~~~
Lamont Cranston may appear to be a business man who loves water polo and martinis at the club, but his intentions are always geared towards a specific means. Every time he ate a power lunch with some business associate his ulterior motive was something to benefit his alter ago. While the line between Jekyll and Hyde was a solid black, the line between Cranston and the Shadow was a shady grey. That’s why whenever Lamont smiled after shaking hands with someone he was setting up they shivered.
The Shadow moved silently within the confines of the building. Dusk had barely fallen behind the ridge, but he already felt safe moving about in the darkness. He had never stepped foot inside the Kobra Klub before, but he had met a few of their members once while investigating the murder of Professor Tuttle’s colleague. The fact that they were back now proved the connection.
Word traveled through the underworld that the Kobra Klub had branches of their organization in every major city, but the Shadow had his doubts. Either they were very good at staying out of the spotlight or the rumors had been greatly exaggerated. If the reputation was true, then the Shadow was very impressed, especially in their ability to work with Big Boss. Francis Turiano hated outside influences in his city. They had either struck a deal with him or they were so secretive that he wasn’t aware of their existence.
Light spilled into the hallway where the Shadow was creeping down. Glasses clinked together from inside the room and voices emitted along with the light. The Shadow could cloud the minds of men so he would appear completely invisible, but the light from inside the room would prove a problem. When lit directly, the only thing he couldn’t hide was his own silhouette.
The building was big enough that he had no trouble slipping inside. Moe had dropped him off a few blocks down the street in an alley and it took him less than five minutes to get to the roof of the Kobra Klub, the name given by several of the underworld’s more colorful members. The building was run down with no records of ownership, which was how the Shadow had discovered it was secretly someone’s criminal lair. According to his agent at the electricity company the building was still being powered but no one laid claim to the deed.
“Samuel!” hollered one of the voices from inside the room. “Get all this stuff together for transport! We’re moving out tonight.”
He had worked his way down from the top once he had successfully picked the lock for the roof access. The third and second floors were completely empty except for a few stray mattresses randomly thrown out on the wooden floors. Here on the first floor, he guessed the half dozen or so men had gathered together and were getting ready to make their getaway, probably to deliver the secret formula to their employer.
“Tonight?” Samuel responded. “Why so fast? We just got all this formula stuff last night. Our original orders were to lay low for a few days in case that professor guy called the authorities.”
“The major crime boss in this city was just apprehended. Our orders have changed. New York has become too unstable at the moment and it will only get worse, drawing unwanted attention. We need to move out now.” The first man had a slight accent. Most likely European and it sounded like he had a decent education.
The Shadow wasn’t entirely sure what was going on. Perhaps these men were part of a larger organization. Their orders had to have come from somewhere and they didn’t act like regular thugs. They were smart and obviously had contingency plans. He hated not knowing the full situation and he hated even more that these men seemed to be more of a whisper in the underworld than even he was. Regardless, he had to stop them now or risk losing them.
If any of the men had been looking toward the door they would have seen a very strange sight. A dark image in the shape of a man’s arm reached along the back wall with what might have been a gun in its hand, pointing at the ceiling. The disturbing thing was that the arm looked ghostly and flat. It was a silhouette cast by some unseen person against the back wall. One of the fingers wrapped around the trigger of the gun squeezed and the gunshot rang out, causing the six men in the room to stiffen and reach for their own weapons. Even if the shadowy arm looked surreal, the bullet fired from the gun certainly wasn’t. The perfectly aimed shot shattered the bulb in the lone ceiling lamp, instantly causing the room to fall into darkness.
“Spread yourselves out against the wall!” the leader ordered, his accent thicker as he prepared for action. The Shadow didn’t sense fright in his voice, however…he sensed tension and concentration. These men had been trained and were certainly not amateur gangsters. “Where did the shot come from?”
The Shadow heard each of the men slap against the walls as they complied with the man’s order. Automatic handguns, possibly similar to his 45’s, were cocked and loaded along with another sound he couldn’t quite place. It sounded like metal was being unsheathed…
“Somewhere inside,” Samuel answered. “None of the windows were broken. Whoever fired must be in the hallway.”
Definitely smarter than your average gangsters. It was time for the Shadow to try and unnerve his opponents the best way he knew how.
He began to laugh.
The laughter sounded insidious and arcane, starting out deep and slowly rising to a higher pitch. He had been told on more than one occasion that it had made a full-grown man lose control of his bodily functions. He reveled in the fear he instilled in his prey as it made them easier to collect.
“What’s going on? Who the hell is that?” another of the men asked. Fear was starting to creep into his voice, which made the Shadow smile and laugh louder.
“I’m your deepest fears brought to life,” the Shadow said, his voice echoing off of the walls. It was another trick he had picked up during his travels in the Far East. The darkness was his tool in totality. “I know of the resentment you hold over yourselves for the acts you’ve committed. Did you really think there would be no consequences for your actions?”
“Don’t listen to him, all of you,” the leader ordered again. His voice was calmer now. He was afraid, but only of the fact that he would be caught somehow. His discipline helped restrain any further fright. “Samuel. Get the formula. Everyone else form up and head for the hallway. We’ll plow through this mystery man.”
A more direct approach would be needed for this case. The training these men had gone through was apparently enough that his usual tactics wouldn’t do much good. They must have been through several rather tragic ordeals to begin with. These men no longer feared death.
“You were hired to murder Professor Tuttle’s colleague and to steal his secret formula. Consider this your warning: leave the city now and never come back. You have one minute to decide! If you stay…you will surely regret it. My patience does have a limit.”
The Shadow’s laughter echoed out into a small murmur. He sensed the men inside the room were slightly confused as to what action to take. Good.
Silence boomed throughout the building. Not a single person moved or spoke. It was seemingly a standoff with neither side wanting to risk a foolish encounter. Before long, however, their leader made the decision for them.
“Open fire into the hallway.” His voice was still calm and collected. It was almost as haunting as the Shadow’s.
Bullets whizzed through the air and into the back wall of the hallway. The Shadow was far enough down that he was in no danger although he was slightly surprised. These men, these members of the Kobra Klub, obviously had more to them than he had initially thought. When this was all over he would have to investigate the matter further.
The Shadow crouched down low and shuffled up to the room’s sole entrance, both of his 45’s drawn. He swung around underneath their gunfire and began his retaliation barrage. Even without the muzzle flash to direct his fire he would have been able to see them as clear as day. The night held nothing from his eyes.
One of the Kobra members fell to the floor after having his torso assaulted with five fresh bullet holes. Another quickly joined him after the Shadow gained a bead on him by edging around the corner of the doorway.
The remaining four criminals quickly realized the Shadow was low to the ground and all of their bullets were aimed much too high. By the time they had corrected this mistake the Shadow was gone again, having rolled forward into the room and behind a desk.
“Jesus!” Samuel yelled in his own thick accent as he reloaded. The blood from his two companions was beginning to seep into the wooden floors, staining it permanently. “He killed Frederick and Nathaniel!”
“Be quiet, Samuel,” the leader said. Even with two of his men dead he was still calm. The Shadow could see his feet from under the desk as he began to move closer to the doorway. None of them had been able to see him roll into the room as the Shadow had forced the darkness to crowd around him.
“Your life will end here this evening, Samuel, unless you give up now. I know that the fire of evil within your heart has only been fanned by others that control you. Take this free pass, as I will not offer it again.”
“Ignore him, Samuel,” the leader commanded. His accent was definitely European…possibly from some part of Scandinavia.
“Ignore me if you will, but know that I will show no mercy for those who do not leave the criminal path. Your life was forfeit the moment you first committed the heinous acts that have brought you here tonight. Professor Tuttle’s colleague was a true innocent caught in the crossfire of your actions. Punishment will find you!”
“I-I don’t…” Samuel muttered. His gun was rattling in his grip as the fear started to work its way down his spine. Before Samuel knew what had happened, the Shadow had sprung up from beside him having silently made his way to the side of the room.
“I know what your decision is…” the Shadow whispered as terror froze Samuel solid. The Shadow grasped Samuel’s hand with the gun still in it and aimed it across the room at the remaining Kobra members. The Shadow wrapped his fingers around Samuel’s and pulled the trigger, emptying the clip into the hired criminals. Samuel watched in horror as his comrades were killed indirectly by his own hand.
The leader hugged the corner he had fallen into for the small amount of protection it offered, watching the men fall to the floor, motionless. His eyes ripped themselves off of the corpses and bore a hole into Samuel, anger finally showing on his face.
“Samuel!” he blurted out, raising his gun to point at the scared man. The Shadow had let him go and melted back into the darkness. From the leader’s perspective it appeared that Samuel had just turned on his own men. The leader was not pleased.
“No! It wasn’t me!” Samuel tried to defend. He tossed his gun on the floor and raised his hands up to show he was no longer armed. “It was him! He killed them!”
“How dare you! The Order of the Kobra is not one you can simply betray so easily! You will die for your cowardice!”
The leader drew a bead on Samuel’s head and fired two shots with no regard for anything else. Apparently he valued loyalty above most other traits and witnessing his own men killing each other in betrayal was one of the few things that could break his nonchalant attitude. Samuel slumped down along the wall, dead.
The leader lowered his weapon and let out the breath he hadn’t even realized he had been holding in. Disappointment and a small amount of confusion covered his face. He had trusted Samuel…
“Tonight is a night for revelations,” the Shadow stated as he suddenly appeared before the Kobra leader. The Shadow took advantage of his momentary lapse in memory concerning his presence and grabbed him by the collar. “What is the Order of the Kobra? Your reputation among the disgusting criminals in this city is that you’re nothing more than hired thugs who collect themselves in this ‘Kobra Klub.’ From what I’ve witnessed here tonight I have been misinformed. Tell me what you know!”
The Shadow’s concentration was fully on the man in his grasp. He didn’t notice the sixth man behind him slash down at his back with a large blade until it was too late, the source of the metallic sound from earlier. The Shadow cried out in sharp pain as blood began to flow from his lower back and hip. The blade had cut through his cape and deep enough into him that the wound was wrecking his thought process. He let go of the leader and spun around on pure instinct, yanking out one of his pistols again and shooting the man with the blade.
The leader drove his knee into the Shadow’s stomach. Pain tore through his psyche again as the breath was forced out of his lungs. The Shadow had fallen to his knees on the floor and was gasping for air from under his red silk scarf.
“The Order of the Kobra is a sacred collective that a man like you is unworthy to know of,” the leader said. The tip of his weapon was inches from the back of the Shadow’s head, styled in the classic assassination pose. “Now your life is forfeit!”
The Shadow, bearing through the pain, flung his head back into the tip of the gun. The sudden and unexpected movement caught the killer off-guard and gave the Shadow enough to time to swing around and throw an uppercut into his groin. The man doubled over in excruciating pain, dropping his weapon. The pair was now face to face, both kneeling on the floor in an attempt to cope with their afflictions.
The Shadow was the first to act by grabbing the criminal by the neck. Through his black gloves he began to squeeze harder and harder. “Tell me everything or I’ll crush your windpipe.”
The man smiled slightly as he chomped down on something in his mouth. The smell of almonds hit the air and the Shadow knew instantly what he had just done.
“Cyanide capsule,” the Shadow whispered as he let the now lifeless body fall from his grasp. He had heard of captured soldiers committing suicide like that in order to make certain they didn’t reveal anything important.
The Shadow tried to stand and found it was almost too much for him. The blood was still flowing from his wound and he felt slightly woozy. He managed to get to the table in the center of the room, leaning on it for support. He stuffed the professor’s notes into a satchel sitting there that was already full of various chemicals. The formula was safe for now. The Shadow, however, was far from safe.
Somehow, miraculously, he made it to the back alley a block away where he had told Moe to wait for him. Upon seeing his boss fall into the side of the taxicab instead of his usual invisible entrance, Moe rushed to his side to try and help him up.
“Christ, boss!” Moe exclaimed. “Are you okay?”
“Get…get me home,” he managed to reply. His voice sounded frail like he was ready to pass out.
Moe took the satchel and helped him into the back seat of the cab. “Don’t worry, boss! We’ll be there before you know it.”
The cab zoomed off into the night as the Shadow slipped away into the darkness of unconsciousness. There would be no hospital trips for him – he had made sure long ago that Moe would know what to do in case something like this ever happened. The only problem now was living long enough for those measures to actually be seen through.
~~~-<>-~~~
Casefiles & Comments
I’m trying to collapse all the different versions of the Shadow from over the years into this project. I initially wanted to keep with the ‘pulp noir’ feel, but I think I’m going to start taking this to a much darker place. Oh, and don’t think this is the last we’ll see of the Order of the Kobra!
“Lane,” she said, tilting her head slightly as she smiled. “My name is Margot Lane.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Miss Lane,” Lamont said. His eyes swept over the woman, taking in her obvious beauty. However, there was something else about her. Something not so obvious…
“I hope I’m not disturbing you, but I wanted to introduce myself,” Margot said. “My uncle and I were at the Shoeshine Club last night, but you left rather abruptly before he could arrange for us to meet.”
“Your uncle?”
“The mayor,” she replied, blushing slightly. “He said you were back in town recently, and since I was new to the city, he thought you might enjoy showing me the sights. I suppose he thought you would want to reacquaint yourself with New York, Mr. Cranston.”
Lamont ran a hand through his slick, black hair. The cool morning air bit slightly at his lips, but it was far from the worst winter the city had seen. Since his return, his nightlife had preempted him from catching up on his favorite hotspots. Perhaps he would show this attractive young lady around town.
“I suppose you’re here to meet your uncle?” Lamont guessed.
“Yes. He said this business with Big Boy wouldn’t take too long. We’re going to grab an early lunch. I had a feeling you would be around, and the next thing I know, there you are!”
“Big Boss.”
“Pardon?” she asked, leaning forward, an eyebrow raised slightly.
“You said boy,” he explained. “This whole business is over a man named Big Boss Francis Turiano. He was apprehended late last night after an anonymous tip was called into the local police precinct. I’m not quite sure of all the details, but I believe your very uncle has important light to shed on the subject.”
“Well, whatever the reason I was hoping--”
Lamont turned quickly at the sound of a car horn blaring loudly behind them. Normally he wouldn’t give the annoying noise a second thought, but this car horn was a unique one. It belonged to his personal driver, a cabbie named Moe Shrevnitz. Moe was waiting exactly where Lamont had left him that morning, resting by the curb outside the courthouse. The driver was sitting behind the wheel of the yellow cab, an anxious look on his face.
“I’m sorry,” Lamont said, turning back to face Margot. “I just remembered I have an important engagement that I can’t afford to be late for. Shareholders’ meeting. Very important. Another time, Miss Lane!” he called over his shoulder.
Lamont, in his usual manner of self-importance, quickly made his way to the waiting cab, yanking the back door open. Moe stepped on the gas before the door was even closed and the yellow cab launched out from the curb. Other cars swerved to avoid the cabbie’s mad route as Moe used the car to dive deeper into the city.
“Morning, boss,” Moe said. The smell of onions permeated the inside of the automobile, a reminder of his simple breakfast.
“What’s going on, Moe,” Lamont replied. As with each time he slipped into the back of this cab, his voice once again darkened and became raspy. It was like a metamorphosis had overtaken him, the morning light even bending slightly in the back of the cab.
“Message from Burbank,” the driver replied as he passed a folded piece of paper to the backseat. “Marked as urgent. Thought you would want to know about it A.S.A.P.”
Lamont all but ripped the paper from Moe’s hand, unfolding it as quick as he could. Of all Lamont’s agents, Burbank was the most trusted and loyal, except for maybe Moe. If Burbank said he needed the information now, he meant it. While Moe guided Lamont through the streets of New York, Burbank guided Lamont’s own agents, coordinating their efforts and maintaining contact. His job as a radio and telephone operator put him in the perfect position to intercept and pass along valuable information.
“The secret formula that Professor Tuttle was developing has been stolen!” Lamont exclaimed. “Head to the docks, Moe.”
“Sure thing,” the driver complied, sending the car hurtling down a side street. “Who’s this professor guy?”
“One of my agents. Tuttle recently came to the city in search of another scientist to aid him in his research only to find his colleague murdered and his own life in danger. Someone had contracted a hired killer to eliminate him. I put him in a safe house so he could finish his work but apparently someone has found him!”
“What kind of secret formula is this guy cooking up?” Moe asked. The driver seemed more concerned with the question than he was the elderly woman he nearly ran over.
“It wouldn’t be a secret if I told you,” Lamont said with a smirk. “Just get me down to the docks. That’s where I planted Professor Tuttle and that’s where I’ll begin my search. Before long the Shadow will get to the bottom of this…”
~~~-<>-~~~
“Who are you? Go away!”
The aged man peaked through a mail slot, shouting from behind the door. He seemed greatly agitated and so far hadn’t let the door budge open an inch. There was only one entrance into the small building that had once been used as a fisherman’s office and the older man was doing his best to seal it.
“Relax, Professor!” Lamont said. His voice was calm and almost melodious, a tactic he often used during business transactions. “My name is Lamont Cranston and I am also an agent of the Shadow. He sent me to make sure you were all right after he learned your formula was stolen.”
“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” the man said through the mail slot. His eyes peered through the small opening, trying to size up the man wishing to enter. He looked clean and friendly enough, but the professor was too timid to take any risks.
The clean-cut man who had identified himself as Lamont stuck out his right hand for the professor to see. Tightly grasping his middle finger was a silver ring with a red stone embedded in the center. It was reaching noon, but the sun still shown at enough of an angle for it to cast a ray over the polished stone, reflecting up into the professor’s eyes.
“Ah, I see,” he said before opening the door from within.
Lamont entered the small domicile as if this was his first time there, looking awkwardly around the room. Little did the professor know that as the Shadow, Lamont had used this safe house on more than one occasion.
“Good to meet you then,” the professor said as he reached to shake Lamont’s hand, his own ring an exact duplicate of the one he had just been shown. “I take it my message got through to the Shadow then?”
“Yes, it was routed his way and he told me to come here immediately.”
“It’s terrible!” Professor Tuttle suddenly hollered, throwing his hands into the air slightly. “You must get me to the Shadow so I can tell him myself what has happened!”
“Easy, Professor…” Lamont said to try and relax the aged man. “The Shadow is indisposed right now, but he said for you to tell me exactly what happened. Rest assured I’ll see to it that the Shadow knows what has happened.”
“Well…all right,” he finally agreed. The pair moved across the room to a set of small, yet comfortable chairs. Lamont noticed the room had become slightly chaotic since he had moved the professor in. Beakers, test tubes, burners, various chemicals, and rifled notebooks lay strewn about the room. He wasn’t sure if the mess had something to do with the robbery or if the professor was just a natural slob.
“Start at the beginning,” Lamont said. “What happened to the secret formula?”
“A group of men broke in while I was sleeping last night,” he began. “They roused me from my bed upstairs with all the noise they were making down here. You can see how everything is thrown about with little regard to tidiness. How stupid I was! I shouldn’t have left all my work on the tables for anyone to see. I should have locked it all up!”
“Did you recognize any of them?”
“I crept down the stairs just enough to see the tops of their heads,” the professor answered as he pointed to the top of the old, wooden stairs lined with dust. “I don’t think they knew I was here. None of them even looked my way. They ransacked the place and took my notes on the formula along with the samples I had derived. Whoever they were, they knew enough about chemistry to know what to take! I didn’t recognize anyone, but they all had tattoos on their forearms.”
“Tattoos, you say?” Lamont’s face lit up at the mention of the distinguishing marks. He now how an idea of who had perpetrated the crime and with luck he would find them soon. “What kind of tattoos?”
“It was hard to tell,” Tuttle responded. His already wrinkled brow wrinkled even more as he tried to concentrate on the memory. “It was something long that wrapped around the bulk of their forearms…a chain perhaps? I’ve seen sailors with tattoos similar to them; usually a chain attached to an anchor. We are next to the docks after all…”
“Could it have been a snake you saw?” Lamont asked. His suspicions had been raised and he hoped he was zeroing in on the culprits. If what he thought was correct, he knew exactly what had happened.
“A snake! Yes! I believe it was a snake I saw on each man’s arm. At least, those who had their sleeves rolled up. There were a half dozen men here and I think three or four of them had the tattoo that I could make out. Do you know them? Do you know where the formula is?”
Professor Tuttle was obviously growing impatient and Lamont understood the frustration the man must be experiencing. For years the professor had been trying to develop his formula and he had sacrificed much for his work. To have it all suddenly ripped away from him must have been almost too much to bear.
“I’ll relay all of this to the Shadow as fast as I can,” Lamont said as he stood to leave. “Don’t worry, Professor. Your work won’t be lost. The Shadow will retrieve that which was stolen from you. Just have faith.”
Before the professor could argue Lamont left the small building, closing the door behind him. He jogged the short distance back to where Moe sat in the cab, the engine still running.
“Moving out again, boss?”
“You bet, Moe. Looks like I’ll be visiting the Kobra Klub tonight. Take me back to the mansion first, though. I’ll wait for nightfall before seeing them.”
The cab lurched forward and shot down the pier, a flock of seagulls desperately flapping their wings to avoid being hit. Lamont looked over his shoulder at the safe house where the older man remained, happy at least that he would finally be able to solve the murder of the professor’s colleague as he now suspected the two matters were related.
~~~-<>-~~~
Lamont Cranston may appear to be a business man who loves water polo and martinis at the club, but his intentions are always geared towards a specific means. Every time he ate a power lunch with some business associate his ulterior motive was something to benefit his alter ago. While the line between Jekyll and Hyde was a solid black, the line between Cranston and the Shadow was a shady grey. That’s why whenever Lamont smiled after shaking hands with someone he was setting up they shivered.
The Shadow moved silently within the confines of the building. Dusk had barely fallen behind the ridge, but he already felt safe moving about in the darkness. He had never stepped foot inside the Kobra Klub before, but he had met a few of their members once while investigating the murder of Professor Tuttle’s colleague. The fact that they were back now proved the connection.
Word traveled through the underworld that the Kobra Klub had branches of their organization in every major city, but the Shadow had his doubts. Either they were very good at staying out of the spotlight or the rumors had been greatly exaggerated. If the reputation was true, then the Shadow was very impressed, especially in their ability to work with Big Boss. Francis Turiano hated outside influences in his city. They had either struck a deal with him or they were so secretive that he wasn’t aware of their existence.
Light spilled into the hallway where the Shadow was creeping down. Glasses clinked together from inside the room and voices emitted along with the light. The Shadow could cloud the minds of men so he would appear completely invisible, but the light from inside the room would prove a problem. When lit directly, the only thing he couldn’t hide was his own silhouette.
The building was big enough that he had no trouble slipping inside. Moe had dropped him off a few blocks down the street in an alley and it took him less than five minutes to get to the roof of the Kobra Klub, the name given by several of the underworld’s more colorful members. The building was run down with no records of ownership, which was how the Shadow had discovered it was secretly someone’s criminal lair. According to his agent at the electricity company the building was still being powered but no one laid claim to the deed.
“Samuel!” hollered one of the voices from inside the room. “Get all this stuff together for transport! We’re moving out tonight.”
He had worked his way down from the top once he had successfully picked the lock for the roof access. The third and second floors were completely empty except for a few stray mattresses randomly thrown out on the wooden floors. Here on the first floor, he guessed the half dozen or so men had gathered together and were getting ready to make their getaway, probably to deliver the secret formula to their employer.
“Tonight?” Samuel responded. “Why so fast? We just got all this formula stuff last night. Our original orders were to lay low for a few days in case that professor guy called the authorities.”
“The major crime boss in this city was just apprehended. Our orders have changed. New York has become too unstable at the moment and it will only get worse, drawing unwanted attention. We need to move out now.” The first man had a slight accent. Most likely European and it sounded like he had a decent education.
The Shadow wasn’t entirely sure what was going on. Perhaps these men were part of a larger organization. Their orders had to have come from somewhere and they didn’t act like regular thugs. They were smart and obviously had contingency plans. He hated not knowing the full situation and he hated even more that these men seemed to be more of a whisper in the underworld than even he was. Regardless, he had to stop them now or risk losing them.
If any of the men had been looking toward the door they would have seen a very strange sight. A dark image in the shape of a man’s arm reached along the back wall with what might have been a gun in its hand, pointing at the ceiling. The disturbing thing was that the arm looked ghostly and flat. It was a silhouette cast by some unseen person against the back wall. One of the fingers wrapped around the trigger of the gun squeezed and the gunshot rang out, causing the six men in the room to stiffen and reach for their own weapons. Even if the shadowy arm looked surreal, the bullet fired from the gun certainly wasn’t. The perfectly aimed shot shattered the bulb in the lone ceiling lamp, instantly causing the room to fall into darkness.
“Spread yourselves out against the wall!” the leader ordered, his accent thicker as he prepared for action. The Shadow didn’t sense fright in his voice, however…he sensed tension and concentration. These men had been trained and were certainly not amateur gangsters. “Where did the shot come from?”
The Shadow heard each of the men slap against the walls as they complied with the man’s order. Automatic handguns, possibly similar to his 45’s, were cocked and loaded along with another sound he couldn’t quite place. It sounded like metal was being unsheathed…
“Somewhere inside,” Samuel answered. “None of the windows were broken. Whoever fired must be in the hallway.”
Definitely smarter than your average gangsters. It was time for the Shadow to try and unnerve his opponents the best way he knew how.
He began to laugh.
The laughter sounded insidious and arcane, starting out deep and slowly rising to a higher pitch. He had been told on more than one occasion that it had made a full-grown man lose control of his bodily functions. He reveled in the fear he instilled in his prey as it made them easier to collect.
“What’s going on? Who the hell is that?” another of the men asked. Fear was starting to creep into his voice, which made the Shadow smile and laugh louder.
“I’m your deepest fears brought to life,” the Shadow said, his voice echoing off of the walls. It was another trick he had picked up during his travels in the Far East. The darkness was his tool in totality. “I know of the resentment you hold over yourselves for the acts you’ve committed. Did you really think there would be no consequences for your actions?”
“Don’t listen to him, all of you,” the leader ordered again. His voice was calmer now. He was afraid, but only of the fact that he would be caught somehow. His discipline helped restrain any further fright. “Samuel. Get the formula. Everyone else form up and head for the hallway. We’ll plow through this mystery man.”
A more direct approach would be needed for this case. The training these men had gone through was apparently enough that his usual tactics wouldn’t do much good. They must have been through several rather tragic ordeals to begin with. These men no longer feared death.
“You were hired to murder Professor Tuttle’s colleague and to steal his secret formula. Consider this your warning: leave the city now and never come back. You have one minute to decide! If you stay…you will surely regret it. My patience does have a limit.”
The Shadow’s laughter echoed out into a small murmur. He sensed the men inside the room were slightly confused as to what action to take. Good.
Silence boomed throughout the building. Not a single person moved or spoke. It was seemingly a standoff with neither side wanting to risk a foolish encounter. Before long, however, their leader made the decision for them.
“Open fire into the hallway.” His voice was still calm and collected. It was almost as haunting as the Shadow’s.
Bullets whizzed through the air and into the back wall of the hallway. The Shadow was far enough down that he was in no danger although he was slightly surprised. These men, these members of the Kobra Klub, obviously had more to them than he had initially thought. When this was all over he would have to investigate the matter further.
The Shadow crouched down low and shuffled up to the room’s sole entrance, both of his 45’s drawn. He swung around underneath their gunfire and began his retaliation barrage. Even without the muzzle flash to direct his fire he would have been able to see them as clear as day. The night held nothing from his eyes.
One of the Kobra members fell to the floor after having his torso assaulted with five fresh bullet holes. Another quickly joined him after the Shadow gained a bead on him by edging around the corner of the doorway.
The remaining four criminals quickly realized the Shadow was low to the ground and all of their bullets were aimed much too high. By the time they had corrected this mistake the Shadow was gone again, having rolled forward into the room and behind a desk.
“Jesus!” Samuel yelled in his own thick accent as he reloaded. The blood from his two companions was beginning to seep into the wooden floors, staining it permanently. “He killed Frederick and Nathaniel!”
“Be quiet, Samuel,” the leader said. Even with two of his men dead he was still calm. The Shadow could see his feet from under the desk as he began to move closer to the doorway. None of them had been able to see him roll into the room as the Shadow had forced the darkness to crowd around him.
“Your life will end here this evening, Samuel, unless you give up now. I know that the fire of evil within your heart has only been fanned by others that control you. Take this free pass, as I will not offer it again.”
“Ignore him, Samuel,” the leader commanded. His accent was definitely European…possibly from some part of Scandinavia.
“Ignore me if you will, but know that I will show no mercy for those who do not leave the criminal path. Your life was forfeit the moment you first committed the heinous acts that have brought you here tonight. Professor Tuttle’s colleague was a true innocent caught in the crossfire of your actions. Punishment will find you!”
“I-I don’t…” Samuel muttered. His gun was rattling in his grip as the fear started to work its way down his spine. Before Samuel knew what had happened, the Shadow had sprung up from beside him having silently made his way to the side of the room.
“I know what your decision is…” the Shadow whispered as terror froze Samuel solid. The Shadow grasped Samuel’s hand with the gun still in it and aimed it across the room at the remaining Kobra members. The Shadow wrapped his fingers around Samuel’s and pulled the trigger, emptying the clip into the hired criminals. Samuel watched in horror as his comrades were killed indirectly by his own hand.
The leader hugged the corner he had fallen into for the small amount of protection it offered, watching the men fall to the floor, motionless. His eyes ripped themselves off of the corpses and bore a hole into Samuel, anger finally showing on his face.
“Samuel!” he blurted out, raising his gun to point at the scared man. The Shadow had let him go and melted back into the darkness. From the leader’s perspective it appeared that Samuel had just turned on his own men. The leader was not pleased.
“No! It wasn’t me!” Samuel tried to defend. He tossed his gun on the floor and raised his hands up to show he was no longer armed. “It was him! He killed them!”
“How dare you! The Order of the Kobra is not one you can simply betray so easily! You will die for your cowardice!”
The leader drew a bead on Samuel’s head and fired two shots with no regard for anything else. Apparently he valued loyalty above most other traits and witnessing his own men killing each other in betrayal was one of the few things that could break his nonchalant attitude. Samuel slumped down along the wall, dead.
The leader lowered his weapon and let out the breath he hadn’t even realized he had been holding in. Disappointment and a small amount of confusion covered his face. He had trusted Samuel…
“Tonight is a night for revelations,” the Shadow stated as he suddenly appeared before the Kobra leader. The Shadow took advantage of his momentary lapse in memory concerning his presence and grabbed him by the collar. “What is the Order of the Kobra? Your reputation among the disgusting criminals in this city is that you’re nothing more than hired thugs who collect themselves in this ‘Kobra Klub.’ From what I’ve witnessed here tonight I have been misinformed. Tell me what you know!”
The Shadow’s concentration was fully on the man in his grasp. He didn’t notice the sixth man behind him slash down at his back with a large blade until it was too late, the source of the metallic sound from earlier. The Shadow cried out in sharp pain as blood began to flow from his lower back and hip. The blade had cut through his cape and deep enough into him that the wound was wrecking his thought process. He let go of the leader and spun around on pure instinct, yanking out one of his pistols again and shooting the man with the blade.
The leader drove his knee into the Shadow’s stomach. Pain tore through his psyche again as the breath was forced out of his lungs. The Shadow had fallen to his knees on the floor and was gasping for air from under his red silk scarf.
“The Order of the Kobra is a sacred collective that a man like you is unworthy to know of,” the leader said. The tip of his weapon was inches from the back of the Shadow’s head, styled in the classic assassination pose. “Now your life is forfeit!”
The Shadow, bearing through the pain, flung his head back into the tip of the gun. The sudden and unexpected movement caught the killer off-guard and gave the Shadow enough to time to swing around and throw an uppercut into his groin. The man doubled over in excruciating pain, dropping his weapon. The pair was now face to face, both kneeling on the floor in an attempt to cope with their afflictions.
The Shadow was the first to act by grabbing the criminal by the neck. Through his black gloves he began to squeeze harder and harder. “Tell me everything or I’ll crush your windpipe.”
The man smiled slightly as he chomped down on something in his mouth. The smell of almonds hit the air and the Shadow knew instantly what he had just done.
“Cyanide capsule,” the Shadow whispered as he let the now lifeless body fall from his grasp. He had heard of captured soldiers committing suicide like that in order to make certain they didn’t reveal anything important.
The Shadow tried to stand and found it was almost too much for him. The blood was still flowing from his wound and he felt slightly woozy. He managed to get to the table in the center of the room, leaning on it for support. He stuffed the professor’s notes into a satchel sitting there that was already full of various chemicals. The formula was safe for now. The Shadow, however, was far from safe.
Somehow, miraculously, he made it to the back alley a block away where he had told Moe to wait for him. Upon seeing his boss fall into the side of the taxicab instead of his usual invisible entrance, Moe rushed to his side to try and help him up.
“Christ, boss!” Moe exclaimed. “Are you okay?”
“Get…get me home,” he managed to reply. His voice sounded frail like he was ready to pass out.
Moe took the satchel and helped him into the back seat of the cab. “Don’t worry, boss! We’ll be there before you know it.”
The cab zoomed off into the night as the Shadow slipped away into the darkness of unconsciousness. There would be no hospital trips for him – he had made sure long ago that Moe would know what to do in case something like this ever happened. The only problem now was living long enough for those measures to actually be seen through.
~~~-<>-~~~
Casefiles & Comments
I’m trying to collapse all the different versions of the Shadow from over the years into this project. I initially wanted to keep with the ‘pulp noir’ feel, but I think I’m going to start taking this to a much darker place. Oh, and don’t think this is the last we’ll see of the Order of the Kobra!