Larrigan readily agreed to this course. He had no desire for a daylight shooting in the heart of Chicago. He had visions of Monk Thurman lying dead on a lonely spot far out of town.
Savoli and Borrango did not leave the library immediately after the gang leader’s departure. Instead, they discussed the subject of The Shadow.
“You’d better make sure that those torpedoes are on the job below here,” said Savoli. “If we lay back a while, this fellow they call The Shadow will either clear out or try to spring one on us.”
Borrango turned toward the bookcase, and reached up to open the secret portal that led to the hidden passage. Savoli stopped him with a quick gesture.
“Not through there!” he exclaimed. “Suppose they are on the job downstairs? They don’t know that we have the connecting passage!”
Borrango nodded. He went toward the anteroom, and Nick Savoli retired to his den.
When the room was deserted, the bookcase opened, and The Shadow glided forth. He stood like a black monster in the center of the room. He had heard everything that had been said. Now he laughed softly.
With quick stride, he reached the door to the anteroom, waited until all was clear, and then disappeared through the door of the fire escape.
IT was precisely four o’clock when Monk Thurman appeared at Nick Savoli’s apartment. The New York gangster had lost none of his bravado. When Savoli and Borrango met him in the library, they were amazed at the man’s self-confidence.
“What about last night?” questioned the big shot.