Now that he's growing accustomed to having her as a true agent again, Myra's recovery in her own world puts The Shadow slightly short-handed. He finds his own wheezing a severe liability whenever stealth is needed, forcing him to rely on other agents for quiet investigations. The alternate solution, and one he struggles to uphold, is to be supremely diligent in taking care of himself except when he truly needs to take to the streets firsthand. The restriction grates on his nerves, and coordinating agents to do some of the footwork takes up more time.
He is careful, following the unexpected incident in ancient Japan
, and he is also busy. The drug market has gone fairly quiet, but there is a definite gradual increase in violent crime. Arresting the individuals involved seems to have no impact on this slow crescendo. The network is spread wide and thin, scratching the ground for clues. After a matter of days, The Shadow has done all he can do about the matter. Once again he must wait, sift the city through his agents, and hope some vital puzzle piece comes to light. On this break from work he recalls a social obligation. A morning outing has him arriving at the Rettigue apartment with sake and scotch. The place has been abandoned the past few days, but that means there's no paperwork to tidy. The grand spaces and spartan furnishings should make it a comfortable place for a blind man to visit.
When the sake is warm and the cups set out, he sends off an invitation
, and then laughs quietly at his own unfamiliar attempt at hospitality.