“What’s this?” quizzed Cardona. “Who killed this fellow? How did he die?”
The detective pumped the questions as he swung to Towson, who had followed him into the room.
Towson, his face solemn, slowly shook his head.
“I didn’t call you, Cardona,” he declared. “It was this man — Shelburne — my secretary — who must have called. I found him here. The phone was off the hook beside him. I was coming out to call the servants when you arrived.”
CARDONA was beside the body. His face was grim as he saw this new evidence of the strangler’s murderous power. He was thinking quickly. If Towson’s belief was correct, namely, that Shelburne had called headquarters, this murder must have happened within the last quarter hour.
“Who has been in here?” demanded Cardona, quickly. “Who, beside this dead man?”
“No one,” assured Towson. “No one, except the man who brought the new radio set. That was several hours ago.”
The statement was a simple one. Ordinarily, it would have caused Joe Cardona to start a quiz regarding the identity of the man who had visited the room. But Cardona, at times, had hunches that marked him as a genius. Acting upon sudden impulse, he leaped to the radio cabinet and tried to raise it The detective was surprised at the cabinet’s weight. Failing to budge it, he heaved and sent the bulky object falling on its side. The jolt did the trick. The top mechanism yielded; the top sprang open. The cylindrical body and head of the robot killer came springing into view!
The arms did not act. But Cardona, as he saw the plungers, knew the truth of murder. He remembered the heavy desk at Fallow’s. He recalled the dumbwaiter at Dyke’s; also some talk, on Parson’s part, about a box that had been shipped to the chemist’s home.
Bryce Towson had advanced. As Cardona turned, he saw the engineer staring with fixed gaze upon the glittering mechanism of the motionless robot. Towson phrased gasping words.
“That — that was meant for me!” he exclaimed. “The cabinet came this afternoon. My servants helped to carry it in here. It trapped Shelburne in my place!”
Cardona started to speak. He stopped and looked toward the door as a servant entered. The menial stood gazing at the form of Shelburne and toward the robot beyond. Towson wheeled and spoke to the man.
“What is it?” demanded the engineer.
“A man has come to see you,” stammered the servant. “He — he is outside now. A Mr. Thorne — Frederick Thorne—”
“Steady yourself,” ordered Towson. The servant became rigid. “Go back to Mr. Thorne” — Towson’s voice had taken on a firm tone — “and usher him in here. Then summon the other servants.”
“Yes, sir.”
As the servant departed, Towson turned quickly to Cardona. The engineer’s face was gleaming with sudden inspiration. His words were plain but hasty, as he spoke this order:
“Your revolver,” instructed Towson. “Have it ready. Cover this man when he comes in. He has walked into a trap. You are to meet the brain behind these murders!”
CHAPTER XXII. DOOM TO THE BRAIN
WHEN Frederick Thorne walked into Bryce Towson’s conference room, he stopped short on the threshold. Before him, the harsh-faced power magnate saw Towson, stern and steady. Beyond was Shelburne’s body; past that, the shining cylinders of the robot which projected from the overturned radio cabinet.
Thorne’s eyes opened. They remained that way as a man swung into view from behind the door. Joe Cardona was holding a leveled revolver. Thorne’s arms went upward. He backed from the threat.
“Sit down,” growled Cardona. “We want to talk to you.”
“One minute,” interposed Bryce Towson, tersely. He stepped over and frisked Thorne’s pockets. He produced a loaded revolver. “I think our visitor can do without this.”
“Concealed weapons, eh?” questioned Joe. “We’ll make a note of that. All right, Mr. Towson. Let’s hear what you’ve got to say about this fellow.”
“I shall be brief,” declared Towson. “Cardona, I am the custodian of an invention designed by Meldon Fallow. It is because of that invention that Fallow was murdered. Loring Dyke was also interested. He, too, was killed.
“A third man, Herbert Whilton, left town because he feared attempts upon his life. I have been cautious. That is why” — he waved his hand toward the door, where three servants had appeared — “I have kept this retinue.”
Towson paused. Holding Thorne’s gun by the barrel, he used the handle to indicate Shelburne’s body.
Then he strode to the filing cabinet and produced a bundle of papers. He laid them on the table; from his pocket, he produced a sheaf of additional documents.
“This man,” declared Towson, pointing to Thorne, “wanted Fallow’s invention. Fallow would not sell it. So Thorne resorted to crime to gain control. He kept his murderous methods covered; but he made one slip.
“That” — Towson paused emphatically — “was in his hiring of a spy. He gained my secretary, Shelburne, as his secret agent. These papers” — Towson was tapping the big bundle — “relate to the invention. They are minutes of our meetings, which Shelburne copied and took to Thorne.
“These” — Towson stopped and indicated the smaller packet — “are actual letters from Thorne to Shelburne. Shelburne made the mistake of carrying them about with him. He made the error of laying them aside — here in this room early this evening. I found them.
“I had been suspicious of Shelburne. That was why I watched him. Now I have the proof of his perfidy; and I have the evidence on the man behind it. I want you to arrest Frederick Thorne for murder.”
CARDONA nodded. He looked straight toward Thorne. Towson was eyeing the magnate also. The consulting engineer was confident in bearing. Thorne chewed his lips. For a few moments, he looked like a guilty man, as he stared into the muzzle of Cardona’s revolver. Then, suddenly, he blurted this challenge.
“You’re a detective,” he snapped to Cardona. “You represent the law. I’m relying upon you — now — before it may prove too late. Towson thinks he has me cornered. He thinks that Shelburne called me tonight to tell me that he lost my letters. That is true; but it’s not all.”
Towson was standing idle; but his gaze was focused steadily upon Thorne. The power magnate shifted; then spoke emphatically to Cardona.
“Towson thinks that I came here to demand those letters. He is trying to make out that I came to murder; that I was responsible for the deaths of Fallow and Dyke. That is a lie. I can prove it.
“Shelburne did tell me about the letters; but he told me more. That’s why I came here, armed, to demand a showdown. Shelburne, when he found the letters gone, began to look around. He went into the laboratory that adjoins this room. He found an opened door. It led to a little office. He went in — and there he found lists and records that proved murder — and beyond it he found a room with machines like that mechanical killer on the floor—”
A hiss came from Bryce Towson. Joe Cardona turned. The engineer was covering him with Thorne’s revolver. Helpless, Cardona let his own weapon fall. The mask was off. Bryce Towson showed the countenance of a fiend.
At his hissed order, the servants produced revolvers. They entered; they covered Cardona and Thorne.
A fourth man suddenly shouldered his way in behind them. It was Daper, also armed. The agent of Charg had come to remove Shelburne’s body; he had walked into an amazing scene. He had recognized that Towson must be his actual master.
TOWSON sneered as he pocketed Thorne’s revolver. While his henchmen covered Cardona and Thorne, the revealed murderer spoke in sarcastic tones.