“It is a judgment,” said The Shadow sternly. “In your crimes you have not respected the individual. You are responsible for the murder of one man against whom you had no grievance. For this crime you shall lose the power which you claim to possess.”
There was no reply to The Shadow’s words. They carried a hidden meaning which neither Savoli nor Borrango completely understood. Yet the big shot and his enforcer both realized that their accuser was a man of tremendous power.
“You were responsible for the crime,” continued The Shadow, “although you did not actually commit it. Those who carried out your orders will pay the full penalty.”
SILENCE followed. Impressive silence. Nick Savoli, despite his pretense of confidence, was inwardly apprehensive.
With all his precautions, he had been trapped here, by a man who possessed a purpose equal to his own. If The Shadow had a loaded automatic, both the big shot and his enforcer could be killed in an instant — unarmed as they were.
Nick Savoli’s gaze wavered for an instant; then it was fixed upon The Shadow again.
Nothing in Savoli’s expression betrayed what he had seen. That brief glance had given him new hope and assurance. For Savoli had detected a motion beyond the screen that stood in front of the door, and his keen mind had responded immediately.
Some one had entered the room, in back of The Shadow. The door had been opened noiselessly.
Mike Borrango had not observed the action. Neither had The Shadow. Savoli alone saw it, and he was sure that he knew who was approaching.
Steve Cronin had been instructed to enter the private room when all the gangsters had gone.