CHAPTER ONE

Dick Williams whistled softly to himself as he headed down 42nd Street. The dozen roses he had recently purchased on 40th hung loosely in his left hand as he walked quickly toward the National Bank.

Sarah hated it when he was late. That was what the flowers were for.

He crossed at the middle of the block and stepped quickly through the mid-afternoon crowd moving down the sidewalk to land in the doorway of the tall gray building. Sarah had been a teller here for two weeks, and lunch today was supposed to be celebrating her completion of the probationary training period before she became an official employee of the bank. Dick also had a special surprise planned.

The heavy doors creaked as Dick shoved them open and strode quickly into the bank.

He stepped about ten feet into the expansive lobby and froze, realizing that everyone was looking at him. Sarah was standing behind the teller counter in her usual spot, but she had a peculiar look on her face.

Before he could open his mouth to ask a question, Dick felt the cold metal of a revolver in his back.

“Shut up and don’t make a move, sonny.”

Dick almost laughed, as the voice that had called him “sonny” sounded about eighteen.

The revolver shoved roughly into his back again.

“Move over to the others by the counter.”

It was then that Dick noticed several bank employees sitting on the floor with their hands on their heads. He realized that the few men scattered around the room were all bank robbers dressed as customers.

When he sat down, Dick saw his slightly built assailant move towards the counter and Sarah. He was wearing a dark knit mask that concealed his features.

“Now, as I was saying,” the young man spoke to Sarah, “open the vault, bring out all of the small bills, and put them in bags on the counter.”

Sarah shook as she replied:

“I’m a new hire and I haven’t been taught how to open the vault.”

The robber walked closer to the counter and pointed the gun at her.

“Don’t lie to me! Now open the vault or I will shoot you in your pretty little face!”

Sarah, now weeping, started to stammer out a reply, but she was interrupted.

It started softly.

A dark brooding chuckle seemed to fill the entire room. Rising in pitch and volume with every second, it became a maniacal wail. The young robber and his cohorts cast about themselves searching for the source of the disturbing cackle. The disembodied laughter echoed high in the ceiling of the marble-walled lobby and pealed off the walls in wave after wave. Dick covered his ears to block out the mind-numbing sound.

And then all was quiet.

The young robber froze. The room was deafeningly silent.

The Voice that spoke next was a low menacing whisper:

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Samuel.”

The bank robber turned rapidly, finding no one behind him.

“Who was that? How do you know who I am?”

The Voice chuckled again menacingly.

“Don’t you recognize me, Samuel West? I am…the Shadow.” Dick looked up in surprise as the Voice continued: “ I followed you here from your brother’s apartment on the edge of the city. I know all about your little insurance scheme with the bank manager.”

Dick looked over at Ian Jonnson, the manager. He was white as a sheet.

“How? How did you know?” the young man demanded, eyes wide beneath the mask. His gun wavered, searching for a target that was unseen.

“Haven’t you heard, Samuel?…The Shadow knows.”

The young man ran to the counter and held his gun inches from Sarah’s face.

“Let me see you or I’ll kill her.”

Dick was about to leap to his feet when the Shadow spoke:

“Put down that gun Samuel, or you’ll regret it.”

There was no hint of doubt in the Shadow’s tone. It was a simple statement of fact.

“NO! Let me see you or she’s dead!”

Sarah wept openly.

“One.” The Shadow’s voice was firm and authoritative.

The bank robber futily looked at his fellows for help. They had already dropped their weapons and faced the wall.

They knew better.

“I swear I’ll shoot!”

“Two.”

Dick looked on helplessly as the young man started to pull the trigger.

“Three!”

Just as the robber pulled the trigger, the gun suddenly jerked upward, firing harmlessly through the skylight overhead. Then, the robber was hurled through the air as if by magic to land with a bone-jarring crack on the marble floor several feet away. He lay moaning, his obviously broken arm jutting out at an odd angle under his dark sweater.

Dick smiled with relief as he heard the sirens approaching outside the bank. He leapt to his feet and ran to Sarah, taking her in his arms.

“Thank you, Shadow,” he said loudly, “I’m Dick Williams, and if you ever need anything, just call!”

The Shadow spoke again, friendlier this time.

“I may just do that, Mr. Williams. Now, give young Sarah that engagement band before you lose it.”

Dick and Sarah looked at each other in shock. They both remembered what the Voice had said at the same moment:

The Shadow knows.

Margot Lane sat in the back of a taxi, looking at the crowd gathered around the bank. Police were now swarming all over the sidewalk, leading the foiled bandits out in irons. She saw a pool of reporters gathered around a young couple.

“It was the Shadow!” the young man was saying, “he knew their whole plan!”

Margot smiled as she watched the young woman beside him look on adoringly.

Young love is so sweet.

She never saw him do it.

One moment she was staring at the crowd, looking for Lamont, and the next he was opening the door to the cab.

Lamont Cranston was a handsome man who appeared to be of indeterminate age. He had dark hair and fair skin, and had an athletic build on a rather lanky frame. His only really distinguishing features were his eyes. They were dark and smoldering, as if constantly burning with intensity.

He set the hat and scarlet scarf of the Shadow on the seat between them. Margot caught a glimpse of the trademark .45’s under his coat.

“Let’s go, Schrevy,” Cranston said quickly.

The balding older man in the front seat turned and smiled broadly.

“Sure thing, boss.”

The cab pulled away from the curb and left the growing crowd outside the bank behind.

“Are you all right Lamont? I heard a gunshot.” Margot asked.

Lamont put a finger to his lower lip and looked thoughtfully out the window.

“No, I’m fine, Margot, as is everyone else.” He responded, his brooding voice flowing out in his characteristic aristocratic accent. “The Shadow was fortunate this time.”

“Well, then, why aren’t you more pleased? Didn’t the Shadow manage to foil the false robbery and stop the bank manager’s scheme? All the shareholders should be glad to hear that their money is safe in the National Bank.”

“Yes, Margot, that venerable institution has been restored to its former place of respect, but I fear that this is only the beginning.” Lamont replied, still lost in thought.

“The beginning of what, Lamont? What’s going on?”

Cranston paused for a moment.

“A feeling, Margot,” he said, slowly, “just a strange feeling...strange and oddly familiar...I don’t know why.”

As he turned his attention outside of the taxi again, it began to rain.

After several minutes of silent travel with the rain thumping on the roof of Schrevy’s cab, the three were about to turn onto a cross street for Cranston Manor when a line of police cars almost collided with them. As they rushed past, Schrevy complained about the sheets of muddy water and who knows what else they were launching at his cab.

“I just had it washed yesterday, I tell ya,” the cabbie cried in exasperation.

Margot laughed and was about to comment when Lamont interrupted.

“Follow them, Schrevy.” His voice was so low and intense that Margot turned to him, startled. His eyes were closed, and Cranston looked almost as if he were intently listening for something.

“What is it, Lamont?”

Lamont opened his eyes suddenly, the thread he had strained for was gone.

“Something terrible has happened.” He turned to look ahead as Schrevy turned onto the avenue and raced after the speeding police wagons.

The last one had large white letters painted on the back doors:

CORONER.

Chapter Two