"You are here for an evil purpose. That body in the box is your doing. You are not my friend; you are my enemy! I do not know your scheme, but I can tell you this" — his voice hardened with emphasis — "I can tell you that you will not leave here tonight until I have learned your designs and placed you where you belong!
"I know what you are. Murderer!"
A hideous change had come over the physician's face. His clenched teeth were grinning like the fangs of a monster.
Murdock's accusation had done its work. Gerald Savette stood revealed as a fiend. Now, his voice, like his manner, betrayed his true character as he answered Murdock's words of scorn.
"You call me a murderer," he snarled. "I am a murderer! I killed the man whose body lies here on the floor! You accuse me of complicity. I am more than an accomplice. I sent that box here, Murdock. You blundered into it and learned what it contained. That is something you should never have discovered.
"But it makes no difference now. You think that I am thwarted" — a vicious laugh spattered from Savette's ugly lips — "and that I shall let you call the police. You are wrong, Murdock. Wrong, as you shall learn—" Savette's hands were stealing toward his pocket. He was trying to hold Murdock's gaze so that the chemist would not see the action.
Scarcely had Savette's fingers disappeared from view before Murdock leaped forward upon him. Savette twisted away as his attacker struck. But he was too late. The wiry chemist seized his right wrist as the hand came forth with an automatic.
A sharp twist and Savette was weaponless as the gun fell to the floor beside the dead body that lay there.
Then the men were locked in a ferocious struggle. Savette, though heavier and more powerful, had met an antagonist of unexpected strength. They hurtled back and forth in the narrow confines of the landing, each man grim and determined.
Clark Murdock was gaining the advantage. He gripped his opponent's arms and held them pinioned. He drove Savette backward until the snarling fiend stumbled over the body on the floor and fell, with Murdock pounding down upon him.
For a moment, Savette's left arm was free. His hand once more gained his pocket.
Murdock, suspecting another pistol, tugged at the wrist until the hand came into view.
Savette's fist was clenched tightly. It held no visible weapon. But Murdock, with grim determination, sought to pin the physician's arm underneath his body.
It was then that Savette made a wild, desperate motion. He struggled fiercely and clambered upward, clawing with his right hand at Murdock's eyes. The chemist dodged the sudden attack and wrapped his right arm about Savette's neck. He had turned the twist to his advantage. He was choking his foe into submission.
Savette's head went back and Murdock stared into the leering face as it purpled visibly.
Savette's arms swept free and stretched upon the floor. Then his left hand swung upward, unseen by the man who was conquering him.
A tiny object flashed in Savette's fist as he drove it toward Murdock's shoulder. A sharp grunt came from Murdock as the needle of a hypodermic pierced his flesh. Savette's arms dropped and his head thumped back against the floor. The hypodermic syringe clattered upon the floor. Savette was choking, gasping, helpless; but his needle had done its work.
Murdock's hold relaxed. The fighting chemist swayed backward and forward. His body flopped suddenly to one side and rolled upon the floor.
Three men lay motionless. Gerald Savette was scarcely breathing. Clark Murdock was slumped in a heap. Beside them was the stiffened form of the unknown dead man.
Soon Savette moved. Wearily, he raised his head and drew himself to a sitting position by gripping the side of the big box.
The fiendish leer glowered on his face. Then, as he raised himself to his feet, he took on his normal pose. He carefully dusted his clothes and stood, with folded arms, smiling serenely at the scene before him. Two motionless men — Clark Murdock and another. Two men, garbed alike, similar in features and appearance. A casual observer could not have told which was the famous chemist and which the body from the box.
Calmly, Savette picked up his automatic and pocketed it. He found the hypodermic near a corner of the box and examined it to make sure that it had done its full work. Then he inspected the form of Clark Murdock, as his face continued to wear its knowing smile.
To outward appearances, the famous chemist was dead. His wrinkled face had gained a chalk-like pallor. His body was stiffened as Doctor Savette lifted it and thrust it unmercifully into the box. Assuring himself that Murdock was well wedged among the cushions, Savette replaced the front of the box and carefully hammered it into place.
He pressed the button at the elevator shaft and brought the car to the second floor. Then he gradually edged the box into the lift and rode downstairs with it. He pushed it from the elevator. Then Doctor Savette opened an outer door and peered into the darkness of an alley. A flashlight glimmered in his hand. It was a signal.
A truck moved along the alley. It stopped by the open door and two husky, dark-clad men entered. They lifted the box and carried it away. They saw no sign of Doctor Savette. They heard only the mechanism of the elevator ascending.
The truck rolled from the alley, carrying its newly obtained baggage. All was silent at the old house. Upstairs, Doctor Gerald Savette was working quietly and with precision. He lifted the body of the dead man — that form that looked so much like Clark Murdock — and carried it into the chemist's laboratory. There he placed it in front of the table that bore the huge, hollow crystal. Doctor Savette laughed as he gazed at the face of the dead man. It looked amazingly like the countenance of Clark Murdock. It bore thin, close-knit scars that Savette stroked carefully with his forefinger. That face was the artifice of plastic surgery — a craft in which Doctor Gerald excelled. Leaving the body, the physician selected several bottles from the shelf. He poured a mixture of liquids into a shallow bowl and left it close beside the crystal sphere. He pressed the switch. A humming sound began and sparks flickered back and forth within the crystal.
Savette laughed as the weird activity increased. In a few minutes, the display of the atomic energy would be more evident. Then it would become forceful, bursting with increased fury until at last the walls of the crystal globe could not withstand it!
But Doctor Savette did not choose to wait for that tremendous moment. He walked quickly across the laboratory, latched the door behind him and went downstairs by the elevator.
He left the house by the exit to the dark alley.
Only the silence of death remained in the home of Clark Murdock. Up in the laboratory, the atomic power was surging soundless within the crystal sphere. Before it, stooped as though in thought, was the body of the dead man.
Dynamic, bursting particles were smashing against the sides of the crystal prison. It was a mighty spectacle in miniature. But the eyes that stared toward the weird display were sightless!
Chapter IV — Mann Assembles Data
The 'Morning Sphere' carried a sensational story of the holocaust at Clark Murdock's. Its sweeping headlines told New Yorkers of the fierce fire in which the celebrated chemist had died.
Murdock's experiments in atomic disintegration had long been a subject of news interest. It was known that he had made progress in the harnessing of the atom, and his demonstration of the preceding evening had been but one of many.
Now, by misadventure, the chemist had encountered trouble in one of his solitary experiments, and the resultant disaster had cost him his life. Shortly before midnight, there had been an explosion in his laboratory. Experts agreed that his crystal container must have burst through an overcharge of imprisoned energy.