"I'd like the summer a lot better if it wasn't so blamed hot!" Harry Vincent exclaimed. He was sitting in the passenger seat of a taxi cab in New York City. His tie was extremely loose, and the top button of his shirt undone. Harry was glad to have chosen a short sleeve shirt this morning.
"I think we all would," Moe Shrevnitz, the cab driver replied.
"You know what I mean, Shrevvy. It's this heat wave."
"I know."
"But the boss asked us to check up on that missing ring from the museum. I guess he didn't figure on a massive traffic jam."
Something caught the corner of Harry's eye. He turned to see someone in a trenchcoat with a large case rushing out of the bank. That person was followed by a teller, screaming.
"Gotta go, Shrevvy!" Harry exclaimed, jumping out of the cab.
"Vincent! The museum!"
"I'll meet you there!" Harry shouted, running across the street, causing many horns to honk. He began chasing after the perpetrator.
"Hey, you can't just rob a bank!"
The perp turned his head for just a second, and then turned again to see where he was going. Harry was slowly gaining on the robber, since he had the added advantage of having his path cleared of people.
Finally, with one last burst of energy, Harry rushed up and tackled the robber, knocking the case out of his hand.
They rolled around on the ground for a second, even knocking a few other people down.
When they stopped, the robber had Harry pinned. Harry could see the perp's face.
"You?!"
Before Harry could do anything else, the perp raised his right hand. Harry noticed the ring on his finger before it fell into his face, rendering him unconscious.
Margo Lane was shopping at the five and dime store, picking up a few essential items. She was reaching up to take something off the shelf when she felt a presence behind her.
"Ms. Lane, I presume?" a masculine voice asked.
Margo turned around. When she saw who was standing behind her, her face lit up, and she embraced the man.
"Brett Rogers!" she exclaimed. "How are you?"
She stepped back to get a good look at Brett. He was one of those tall, dark, and handsome types. He was definitely Hollywood material, with a winning smile. Everything about him seemed perfect.
"I'm doing fine," Brett replied.
"Why are you in New York? I thought you left for Hollywood?"
"I did. But I came back."
"Well, if I may ask, why?"
Brett shrugged. "I needed a break. Got a few bit parts here and there. Things haven't worked out like I planned."
"So, are you here to stay?"
"I don't know," Brett said. "It all depends on what happens. I could land a gig on Broadway, or I might be able to talk to a few people and land a studio deal."
"That would be wonderful!"
Brett smiled. "Of course. So, what have you been up to?"
Margo blushed. "Oh, not much. Just doing things here and there."
"I've read of your adventures on the arm of one Lamont Cranston."
"Lamont? Well, yeah, I've been spending time with him a lot."
"But not too much that I could maybe take you to dinner?"
"I'd like that," Margo replied. "Catch up on old times."
"Great. I'll come pick you up around seven?"
"That's fine."
"Are you still living where you were when I left?"
Margo nodded.
"All right, then see you at seven," Brett said, walking off.
As he walked off, Margo sighed.
Lamont Cranston found himself once more sitting in Commissioner Weston's office. It was one of their usual afternoon chats.
"So, police work keeping you busy this week, Commissioner?" Lamont asked.
"Oh, yes, Lamont. In fact, we just had a major theft at the museum last night."
"I read about that in the paper. Something about a ring?"
"Yes," the Commissioner replied. "It was a nice silver ring with a blue sapphire in it. I have a team investigating right now."
"Ah," Lamont replied. "Was that all that was stolen?" Lamont asked.
"Strangely, yes."
"What significance does it have to be in a museum?"
"That old millionaire Oliver donated it, along with a large collection of art and artifacts. He insisted that the ring be displayed, else the museum would get nothing."
"Did he give a reason?"
Weston shook his head. "None."
"Strange."
"I know."
Just then, two officers burst into the Commissioner's office, along with Chief Southard.
"Commissioner Weston, there's been a bank robbery at First National Bank, and we have a positive I.D. on the robber," Southard announced.
"Well, who is it?" Weston asked.
"You, Commissioner."
"That's preposterous!" Lamont exclaimed. "Commissioner Weston would never rob a bank!"
"Quiet, Cranston!" Chief Southard warned. "This is a police matter. High brow citizens need not get in the way." He turned his attention once more to Weston. "Commissioner, where were you between one and three PM this afternoon?"
"Why, I was here, at the station," Weston replied.
"That entire time?"
Weston was silent for a moment. "Well, there was the half hour I stepped out for a sandwich."
Southard turned to the two officers he brought in. "You know what to do."
The officers stepped forward and handcuffed the Commissioner.
"You can't do that!" Lamont said.
"The hell I can't!" Southard shouted back. "This is a police investigation, and Weston is the prime suspect. Now, get the hell out of my station before I have you arrested for impeding a police investigation!"
"Ain't that something?" Joe Cardona asked as Lamont walked out of the Commissioner's office. "Our own commissioner, robbing banks in broad daylight. Y'know, if I'da known he would turn to crime, I woulda thought he'd at least be one of the smart ones."
Lamont just walked out.
Lamont waited for Margo to come to the door.
"Lamont! What a pleasant surprise!" she exclaimed.
"Is it really a surprise that I come visit you?"
"Okay, maybe not, but it sounded like the thing to say at the time."
"We have a lot to do tonight," Lamont said, walking straight into Margo's parlor.
"Uh, tonight?"
"Commissioner Weston has been accused of robbing a bank."
"And that causes us to have to do stuff tonight?"
"I could sense something was wrong with Chief Southard came in to arrest Weston. There is something there."
"Lamont - " Margo began.
"I couldn't tell exactly what. It's almost as if I was being blocked."
"Lamont!" Margo said, slightly raising her voice.
"Yes, Margo?" Lamont asked, turning his head to face Margo.
"Do it alone."
"Do what?"
"Whatever you're doing tonight. I have a prior engagement."
"Prior engagement? With who?"
"Brett Williams."
"Brett Williams, Brett Williams," Lamont muttered, trying to place a face with the name.
"He's an old friend. We knew each other in school. I saw him today at the store, and agreed to have dinner with him."
"Oh," Lamont said. "Well, have fun, then. I'll see you tomorrow."
Lamont was sitting in his big easy chair in his own parlor, slowly sipping brandy. He was trying to figure out who would benefit the most from impersonating the commissioner of police in a bank robbery.
The doorbell rang. Lamont set the brandy down, and walked to the door. Moe Shrevnitz was standing in front of it.
"Hiya, boss."
"Come in, Moe," Lamont replied. "What did you learn?" he asked after Moe had stepped into the mansion.
"Nothin'. Vincent got out to stop a robbery, and got knocked senseless."
"Come in the parlor," Lamont said.
Shortly, the two were seated comfortably. "Brandy?" Lamont offered.
"No thanks. Madge doesn't like me drinking before dinner."
"Understandable. Now, about Vincent."
"Well, the traffic was heavy anyway. So, he jumped out and started chasing the guy. By the time I could catch up in the cab, he was already knocked out."
"Knocked out?"
"Yeah. So, I gathered him up and took him home."
Lamont sighed.
"So," Moe continued, "you goin' out tonight?"
"Perhaps."
"Uh, Vincent and I never made it to the museum, boss."
"Thank you, Moe."
Moe stood up. "Sure thing, boss." He showed himself out.
"Oh, that feels great, Angel," Harry said. He was currently relaxed against the voluptuous form of his pseudo-girlfriend as she gave him a massage.
Harry found that he enjoyed Angel's company. She was good for pleasure, and listened well. However, she wasn't exactly the brightest person in the world. For the most part, their relationship was purely physical. Harry felt little emotional depth. And he was pretty sure Angel didn't care. He was almost sorry that Angel fit the blond sterotype far too well.
"Maybe it was a good thing that you were attacked today, Harry," Angel said. "With any luck, you won't have to run off on business every night."
"I was not attacked," Harry replied. "Some guy punched me after I chased him down. Some guy that looked an awful like Commissioner Weston. As for business, ha! Knowing my boss, I'll be getting a call right now."
In the height of irony, the phone rang at that instant.
"Son of a bitch!" Harry cursed. He stood up and ripped the phone off the cradle. "Vincent!" he spat out.
"Sorry, wrong number," the voice on the other end said.
Harry hung up the phone.
"Another job?" Angel asked.
Harry returned to the couch and laid back against Angel's soft chest. "No. Just a bad connection." He sighed.
Margo immediately opened the door when she heard the knock.
"Brett!" she said.
Brett handed her the bunch of roses he had brought.
"Roses!" Margo exclaimed. "How lovely!"
Brett leaned over and gave Margo a kiss on her cheek. She slowly turned her head so her lips would meet his. It didn't take Brett long to take the hint. They were both kissing passionately.
The roses fell to the floor, and the door shut quickly.
The Shadow crept around the darkened museum. He had hoped that his agents could have taken care of this before closing time, but other circumstances prevented that.
Knowing that the security guards would be unable to see him, the Shadow walked freely about the museum. It did not take long to locate where the missing ring had once been displayed.
The Shadow crept closer, hoping to gain some information from the plaque in front of the case. Unfortunately, the museum had no knowledge of the ring prior to the donation, so the card simply stated that it was a ring with a sapphire in the center.
"Freeze right there!"
The Shadow turned around suddenly. He was shocked. He shouldn't have been visible, yet these security guards could see him.
"Don't pretend to be shocked. We see your shadow on the wall behind you!"
Of course! the Shadow thought. He neglected to notice the light shining in the case, which was enough to let his own silhouette been seen.
The Shadow ran. The guards started firing their weapons. The Shadow leapt up and tackled the closest one.
"You! You're not a security guard!" he exclaimed. "You're a cop!"
"And you're the Shadow!" the cop replied. As he said that, he thrust his legs up, and was able to knock the Shadow off of him.
The Shadow rolled along the floor. The second cop came behind him, tripping over him.
The first cop's gun was still drawn, and he was aiming it for where he thought the Shadow was.
The Shadow continued running and leaping to where the first cop was. As he came down from his final jump, he was able to grab the first cop by the throat and put him in a headlock.
"Jimmy! He's got me!" the cop yelled.
The second cop, Jimmy, stood up with his gun aimed for his partner.
"Jimmy! What are you doing?"
BLAM!
The Shadow had let go of the cop as soon as he realized what Jimmy was going to do. Jimmy wanted to kill the Shadow, and the only way to do that, in his mind, was to shoot through his partner.
However, as the Shadow let him go, the cop jumpped forward, hoping to stop Jimmy. He never had a chance.
Jimmy screamed when he realized what he had done. He fell to his knees, and the gun fell to the floor. He started crying.
"We missed our dinner reservation."
Brett and Margo was lying on Margo's bed, coming up for air once more.
"Oh. I didn't notice," Margo replied.
"You don't seem to care."
Margo smiled.
"You know, I've been waiting for this ever since I first laid eyes on you."
"Oh, hush," Margo said, slapping Brett's arm. "Now you're just flirting."
It was Brett's turn to smile. "But it works."
"Is that what they taught you in Hollywood?" Margo asked, leaning over.
"Perhaps . . . " Brett replied as the two lay back down on the bed in an embrace.
The Shadow ran out of the back of the museum. He knew that if he stayed, he would just received unnecessary attention.
He had to find out why those cops were acting like they were, and more importantly, why they were posing a museum security guards.
He jumped into the cab, which was waiting for him. "Drive, Moe," he ordered.
"Find anything, boss?"
"Nothing but trouble."
As Moe sped along the streets of New York City, he realized he was being chased by cops.
"Boss?"
"Keep driving," the Shadow ordered. "They're not thinking clearly."
Moe continued driving, and accelerated even more. As the cab sped along, two more police cars joined in the chase.
They drove onto a bridge.
"Uh, boss, a little trouble," Shrevvy said, quickly looking back at his passenger. "We're surrounded."
"You know what to do."
"Yes, sir."
Shrevvy pushed the gas pedal as far down as he could. The cab rapidly approached the two police vehicles in front of him. The cops stopped to avoid a collision.
Moe didn't. He continued speeding towards the cops, and the cops chasing him came even closer.
Moe's cab crashed into the two stopped police cars, but the force of the impact from the cops chasing them sent the car flying into the air, and over the side of the bridge.