When word had been whispered that Homer Briggs would show up on the next evening, Harry had shown no interest. Homer Briggs, the murdered man’s ex-valet, wanted by the bulls!
There had been no talk about The Shadow. That was where Hank Farley had been crafty. Hence, when Harry had reported his evening’s work, he had sent just one message.
He had said that Homer Briggs would be at the Black Ship tonight.
From Burbank, The Shadow’s quiet-voiced contact man, Harry had received instructions to watch, and to report developments.
It was early in the evening, but there was no telling when Homer would arrive. Harry expected a long vigil.
He was slouched low in his chair, affecting the sightless stare of a man overdosed with dope.
The door of the Black Ship opened, and a man sidled in. One glance made Harry alert, in spite of his feigned disinterest.
He felt sure that this man was Homer Briggs. The man looked frightened, but he was making an effort to appear at ease.
A couple of gangsters waved to him in greeting. The man nodded and sat down at a table.
A grizzled gunman walked over to join him. The two began a mumbled conversation.