Warwick seemed loath to use the handcuffs to complete the capture. There was a purpose in his waiting — a purpose founded on an explicit order from Palermo.
Warwick did not wish to capture The Shadow alive. He had planned the death of that man of mystery.
Even now he was turning events to his liking.
With his same deliberation, the detective approached and placed the handcuffs on The Shadow’s wrists.
He made no attempt to reveal his prisoner’s identity. He seemed chiefly concerned with the handcuffs, making sure that they were tightly locked.
He stepped behind The Shadow and planted the muzzle of his automatic between the prisoner’s shoulders.
“All right, men,” ordered Warwick. “I’ve got him all right. Go outside, and form along the stairs. I’ll march him down.”
The plainclothes men obeyed.
WARWICK waited, positive that The Shadow would make an effort to escape. And that action would spell his doom. Two detectives were posted on either side of the door, in the hallway. Encountering them, The Shadow would be forced to run the gamut of the stairs.
Any hesitation would lay him open to Warwick’s bullets from behind. Every man in plain clothes had been instructed to shoot the moment escape was attempted. Warwick counted on them to wound and stop The Shadow.