VANISHED CRIMINALS
THE chase through the streets of Miami Beach was unique in the annals of
that city. In a sense, it wasn't a pursuit. It was a case of worriment. Any
attempt to overtake and crack an armored truck was out of the question. The
thing to do was keep the crooks on the go, until they gave up through weariness
and exhaustion of their ammunition.
The Shadow set the style, and the police promptly copied it. Attracted by
the sounds of shots, one police car cut into the scene, to see a taxicab spurt
toward the truck and swing into a zigzag.
A few shots from the cab window enticed a whole deluge from the truck, but
the responding bullets didn't count, because the cab, by then, had veered into
another street.
So the police car took a stab at it and found that it worked. A few blocks
more and the cab reappeared, giving an example 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 becoming 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. Coming 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 command
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
