Burbank stopped the elevator suddenly. They were at the thirty-third floor. He brought the car up a flight.
“Party on this floor, sir,” he said. “It’s a good place to board the elevator.”
“Right. Go back to the thirty-ninth. Wait there. Let the other man find the clear course to the fortieth.”
The Shadow slipped from the elevator, taking the suitcase with him. The door closed.
There were several apartments on this floor. The Shadow stood in a hallway. The sound of singing and melody came from the end of the building.
The man in black suddenly merged into a shadowy alcove. He remained there for a few minutes.
THE operator of the emergency elevator stopped at the thirty-fourth floor to take down a passenger. A young man entered hilariously, carrying a suitcase. The roisterer wore a soft gray hat. He had a jolly face and a pleasing grin.
The operator laughed as the passenger joked on the way down. He was going home early, he said. Not enough life at that party. He told the operator to guess what was in the suitcase.
They last saw the merrymaker as he staggered out through the lobby and stumbled into a waiting cab.
The taxi had difficulty going along the street. A police patrol was there. An ambulance was at the corner.