“Your uncle,” said Zayata softly. “Your uncle is a murderer!”
“A— a murderer?” Margaret’s voice was faltering and far away.
“Yes!” Zayata’s tone was still quiet. “A murderer. The murderer of— of Robert Buchanan!”
The girl could not even gasp. The words dazed her. She looked away and saw Larkin, standing with paper and pen. The pale-faced secretary was nodding solemnly, his face tinged with sadness.
Margaret Glendenning looked into the eyes of Henri Zayata. Even though this man had told the terrible truth, she felt that he had done it through regard for her. Those dark eyes were full of understanding. Margaret was sure that they were the eyes of a sincere friend.
CHAPTER X
KILLERS AT WORK
CLIFF MARSLAND was correct in his assumption that The Shadow was watching Flash Donegan. Cliff knew, after hearing Dip’s vague speech over the phone, that Flash was secure in some room, with no thought of going abroad that night; and he pictured The Shadow close by the spot.
But in that, Cliff Marsland was wrong. The Shadow was far from Flash Donegan’s abode.
When Cliff had called Burbank, tonight, he had used a new number. That was not unusual. Burbank changed his number frequently. The old one was always forgotten, and each of The Shadow’s agents kept the new one constantly in mind.