mg.dictatorofcrime-第6部分

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ple　to　another　police　car　that　had　rallied　to　the　chase。　Soon；　the　truck　was　veering；　too；　its　occupants　fearing　that　the　annoying　cars　would　form　a　blockade　against　it。
　　There　were　times　when　the　truck　managed　to　disappear；　but　always　it　was　flushed　again；　whereupon　it　opened　fire　wildly；　and　fled。
　　It　was　much　like　a　fox　hunt；　except　that　no　one　shouted　〃Tallyho〃　and　the　fox　was　being　very　weary。　This　fox；　by　name；　Murk　Wessel；　had　a　big　chunk　of　the　Centralban　treasure　in　his　possession　and　didn't　want　to　be　treed。　But　the　more　he　drove　in　and　about　Miami　Beach；　the　worse　his　plight　became。
　　Two　long　bridges　offered　outlet　from　Miami　Beach：　one；　the　Venetian　Way；　the　other；　the　County　Causeway。　Each　had　a　drawbridge；　that　could　be　raised　by　sending　word　ahead；　and　Murk's　futile　efforts　to　shake　off　pursuers　had　wasted　enough　time　for　the　draws　to　be　set　against　him。
　　There　was　another　route；　to　the　north；　which　Nayre　had　been　smart　enough　to　take　at　once；　but　Murk　hadn't。　That　route　narrowed　as　it　proceeded；　and　Murk　had　seen　police　cars　speed　off　to　block　it。
　　A　well…laid　barricade　would　turn　Murk's　armored　truck　from　a　mobile　menace　into　a　stationary　fortress；　which　could　be　starved　out；　if　nothing　else。　Eating　ten　million　dollars　wouldn't　be　very　healthy；　particularly　with　so　much　in　gold。
　　So　the　truck　began　new　tactics。　It　cut　in　and　out　of　streets　around　Dade　Boulevard；　a　diagonal　thoroughfare　that　made　a　patchwork　out　of　ordinary　squares。　It　looked　like　a　game　of　hide…and…seek；　and　nothing　more；　for　invariably　the　truck　was　spotted　and　forced　to　roar　away　again。
　　At　last；　it　popped　into　sight　over　a　bridge　crossing　Collins　Canal；　and　suddenly　cut　southwest　along　the　boulevard；　which　led　to　the　Venetian　Way。
　　It　was　then　that　the　taxicab　came　back　into　the　picture。　ing　over　a　humped　bridge　that　crossed　the　canal；　it　overtook　a　flock　of　police　cars　that　were　trailing　the　truck　at　a　respectful　distance。　Daringly；　the　cab　sped　up　behind　the　armored　vehicle。
　　The　police　didn't　recognize　what　was　going　on　in　the　cab。　Its　driver；　of　course；　was　obeying　The　Shadow's　order；　as　he　had　all　along；　for　the　ominous　presence　of　a　black…cloaked　passenger　from　nowhere　was　enough　to　mand　obedience。　That；　however；　did　not　explain　why　The　Shadow　ordered　such　a　daring　course。
　　The　Shadow　had　noticed　that　the　police　cars　were　appreciably　closer　to　the　armored　truck　than　Murk　and　his　crew　had　previously　allowed。　The　Shadow　wanted　to　know　why　the　fugitives　weren't　shooting　back。　His　quick　foray　toward　the　truck　was　acpanied　by　vigilance。
　　He　was　telling　the　taut…nerved　driver　to　veer　away　the　instant　he　received　the　mand。　So　far；　The　Shadow　had　managed　to　pick　〃outs〃　the　very　instant　that　mobster　guns　talked。
　　This　time　it　wasn't　necessary。
　　Though　the　cab　wheeled　almost　to　the　rear　of　the　fugitive　truck；　no　shots　came　from　the　armored　vehicle。
　　Inspired　by　The　Shadow's　example；　the　police　cars　made　a　spurt。　They　saw　the　cab　make　a　sudden　swing；　as　though　to　dodge　a　ing　gunfire；　but　no　shots　occurred。　The　swerve　sent　the　cab　jouncing　on　to　the　tree…lined　sidewalk　across　the　boulevard　from　the　canal；　but　the　police　cars　continued　the　chase。
　　Apparently；　the　crooks　were　out　of　ammunition；　and　had　simply　bluffed　by　poking　guns　from　the　rear　of　the　truck。　Such　wasn't　the　actual　case　however。
　　The　reason　The　Shadow　ordered　the　cab's　veer　was　because　he　saw　no　guns　at　all！
　　
　　
　　AS　soon　as　the　police　cars　had　whizzed　past；　the　forgotten　cab　backed　from　the　sidewalk；　bounced　over　the　curb　and　turned　around；　to　speed　back　toward　Miami　Beach。
　　As　the　sounds　of　police　sirens　dwindled；　The　Shadow　laughed。　He　could　anticipate　the　surprise　that　the　Miami　Beach　police　would　find。
　　It　came　when　the　armored　truck　jerked　to　a　necessary　stop　at　the　raised　drawbridge　on　the　Venetian　Way。　The　police　piled　from　their　cars　and　reached　the　truck；　dodging　its　dangerous　rear　door。
　　They　saw　a　scared　driver　at　the　wheel；　both　hands　raised。　He　lowered　one　when　the　officers　beckoned；　and　opened　the　front　door。　Springing　into　the　truck；　the　police　found　it　empty。
　　Murk　Wessel　and　the　remaining　members　of　his　picked　crew　were　gone；　to　a　man；　and　the　coffers　containing　millions　had　vanished　with　them！
　　Shakily；　the　driver　was　explaining　things。　Gunmen　had　told　him　to　keep　looking　ahead。　Generally；　they　had　said：　〃Keep　going！〃　But　occasionally　they　had　ordered　halts；　when　a　hiding　policy　seemed　preferable。　He　remembered　that　the　last　stop　had　been　somewhere　near　one　of　the　many　canals　that　made　a　veritable　Venice　of　the　western　section　of　Miami　Beach。
　　They'd　told　him　to　wait　about　a　minute　and　then　start　for　the　boulevard；　to　head　straight　for　Miami。　He　had　an　idea　that　they'd　gone　out　the　rear　of　the　truck　during　that　wait；　but　he　hadn't　been　too　sure。　He'd　feared　that　at　least　one　lurking　crook　had　stayed　on　board；　to　make　sure　instructions　were　obeyed。
　　By　the　time　the　truck　driver　reached　that　stage　of　his　story；　the　cops　were　no　longer　interested。　They　realized　how　they　had　been　duped。　Murk　and　his　tribe　had　dropped　off；　swag　and　all；　to　take　a　water　route；　sending　the　police　along　on　a　blind　chase！
　　Only　The　Shadow　had　guessed　the　ruse。　Alone；　he　was　returning　in　the　cab　that　he　had　mandeered　to　hunt　down　Murk's　band　of　murderers。　Why　The　Shadow　had　undertaken　that　quest　single…handed；　was　soon　to　be　proven。
　　Recalling　the　most　likely　spot　where　mobsters　could　have　disembarked　from　the　armored　truck；　The　Shadow　was　guiding　the　cab　driver　to　it。　They　reached　a　park；　where　the　moonlight　glimmered　on　the　waters　of　a　curving　canal…one　of　those　serpentine　waterways　where　aquaplaners　frequently　disported　for　the　benefit　of　newsreel　photographers。
　　Neither　aquaplanes　nor　cameramen　were　in　sight。　Through　the　fringing　palms；　The　Shadow　saw　the　hulk　of　a　low…lying　boat；　which　might　belong　to　Murk　and　his　panions。　Stealthily；　The　Shadow　skirted　toward　a　better　vantage　point。　He　was　planning　to　reach　an　ornamental　bridge　and　make　a　quick　drop　into　the　craft　that　carried　the　crooks；　before　it　could　really　get　under　way。
　　Then　came　the　thing　The　Shadow　didn't　want　to　hear。
　　It　was　the　wail　of　an　approaching　siren；　the　same　whistly　trill　that　every　police　car　had　used　while　on　the　chase。　The　sound　proved　that　the　police　had　learned　their　error　and　were　ing　back；　making　an　even　greater　mistake　by　proclaiming　their　return。　The　give…away　howl　of　those　sirens　was　the　very　reason　why　The　Shadow　had　sent　the　patrols　in　the　other　direction。
　　Crooks　heard　the　sirens；　too。　A　motor　coughed；　and　the　lurking　craft　was　off。　Low；　beneath　the　level　of　the　palm…lined　shore；　it　was　where　The　Shadow　couldn't　reach　it　with　bullets。　The　boat　was　roaring　beneath　the　bridge　as　The　Shadow　reached　the　scene　on　foot。
　　Springing　to　the　center　of　the　short　bridge；　he　stabbed　shots　after　the　fugitives；　and　they　fired　back。　Palms　that　obscured　the　moonlight　made　the　speedy　boat　no　more　than　a　low…lying　streak　of　black；　which　The　Shadow　took　as　a　general　target。
　　In　their　return；　Murk's　gunners　were　shooting　only　at　the　stone　rail　of　the　bridge；　from　which　a　weird；　taunting　laugh　acpanied　the　gun　bursts。　Then　a　turn　in　the　canal　carried　the　swift　boat　from　sight；　as　well　as　gun　range。　The　roar　of　a　powerful　motor　echoed　back　along　the　wave…washed　waterway；　while　sirens；　rising　in　their　pitch；　howled　a　rapid　approach。
　　
　　
　　HIS　own　ruse　spoiled；　The　Shadow　hurried　back　to　the　cab；　to　find　that　it　had　no　driver。　The　fellow　was　blocks　away　by　this　time。　He　hadn't　even　waited　to　snatch　the　keys　from　the　ignition　lock；　so　The　Shadow　used　the　cab　for　his　own　departure。
　　He　was　around　a　bend　in　the　road　that　swung　through　the　park；　when　he　heard　the　sirens　halting；　back　where　he　had　been。
　　Any　chase　along　this　driveway　would　be　futile；　for　by　this　time；　the　fugitive　speedboat　had　reached　the　broad　waters　of　Biscayne　Bay。　The　laugh　that　The　Shadow　gave　was　grim；　signifying　a　ing　problem　which　he　could　definitely　foresee　because　the　police　had　overlooked　it。　It　was　something　that　credited　Murk　Wessel　with　a　high　degree　of　shrewdness。
　　The　very　system　by　which　the　police