Cardona stood dumfounded as the taxi whirled away.
What had Biscayne meant? Had he talked with Commissioner Weston?
Was his remark a jest? A suggestion? A challenge?
Cardona did not know; but he realized that if Biscayne had intended to make him think, he had succeeded.
For the name of The Shadow was buzzing now, through the detective’s head.
“The Shadow,” thought Cardona. “He’s come in before, when I’ve been hitting it tough. The Shadow’s on the up-and-up. He wouldn’t be mixed in with murder.
“But it’s the stuff he goes after; the smartest crooks are the ones he battles. I wouldn’t be surprised if The Shadow shows up before this is all over!”
Try as he might, Cardona could not concentrate on his problems as he wended his way uptown. One thought kept dominating his brain. He was thinking of The Shadow.
Cardona was in a strangely abstract mood when he arrived at the Redan Hotel to give instructions to Mayhew.