Weston handed the slip to Cardona. The detective replaced the fragment in the envelope. He folded the envelope and dropped it with the pad, into his coat pocket.
“Keep that piece of paper, Cardona,” ordered Weston. “Later developments may make it of value. Tell no one that you have it. We do not want the news to get out that MacAvoy Crane was engaged in an important work of investigation.”
A knock at the door. It was Harkin. The servant spoke to Wimbledon.
“Mr. Cranston has arrived, sir,” announced Harkin. “Also Mr. Harlton.”
“Tell them to come in,” ordered Wimbledon. Then, to Weston: “Lamont Cranston is a friend of yours, commissioner; Ross Harlton is aircraft technician with the World Wide Aviation Company. We can take them into our confidence should we discuss this matter further.”
“With reservations,” agreed Commissioner Weston. “It will be quite all right to admit them.”
Roscoe Wimbledon arose. Striding toward the door, he awaited the appearance of these visitors who had arrived just too late to hear the discussion concerning Joe Cardona’s clew.
CHAPTER VII. SEARCHES BEGIN
FIVE men were in the room where three had been before. Lamont Cranston and Ross Harlton had joined the trio in Roscoe Wimbledon’s library. To Joe Cardona, the arrivals formed an interesting study.
Joe had met Cranston before. As he watched the millionaire’s firm-chiseled face, the detective was impressed by its immobility. Lamont Cranston was smoking a cigarette; the occasional action of placing it to his lips was the only motion that he made.
Ross Harlton, a man in his late thirties, was a keen-faced chap who also made a good listener.
Dark-haired, with steady, deep-set eyes beneath heavy brows, Harlton looked the part of an aircraft technician.
“We were talking about the Universal Aircraft mess,” Roscoe Wimbledon was stating. “I have told Commissioner Weston that the corporation was pillaged in outrageous fashion. You have been going over the technical end of it, Harlton. What is your opinion?”
“The same as yours, Mr. Wimbledon,” replied the technician. “I have paid regular visits to the closed testing grounds on Long Island. The workmanship used in the Universal planes speaks very badly for the reputation which the concern once enjoyed.”
“This interests me,” declared Weston. “The government handled the investigation; I heard comparatively little concerning the findings.”
“Explain the details, Harlton,” suggested Wimbledon.
“Universal had been handling some big orders,” stated the technician. “Up at the World Wide plant, we wondered how they had managed to underbid us on the jobs. We found out after the swindle was uncovered.
“Universal had built a lot of commercial planes; they followed by taking a series of orders for military planes to be shipped to foreign governments. The hitch came when they completed building a batch of ships for the Paraguayan government. They wanted them down there to use on the Bolivian frontier.
“There was some talk of an embargo. Officials from Washington demanded an exact report on the number of planes that were being sent to Paraguay. This was a government investigation that proved to be a thorough one — too thorough for the Universal Corporation. Washington ordered a group of navy aviators to test the Paraguayan planes — just to learn how good they were. They found out. One of the navy men went into a bank; the wing came off the plane and he was killed. That started the trouble.
“Government investigators got a look at the specifications. They compared the planes. They found that the ships were faulty. They communicated promptly with other purchasers of Universal ships. They discovered that cheap and faulty materials had been used constantly. They learned that an outrageous graft had been perpetrated. They ordered the factory closed. That was all.”
“All from the technical standpoint,” added Wimbledon. “But the real scandal followed. The government went after Jackson Gleek. He was found dead — a suicide. Some one must have tipped off Lester Drayson. He managed to get out of the country.”
“And the status now?” inquired Weston.
“World Wide has taken over Universal,” replied Wimbledon. “I mentioned that fact to you a while ago. The faulty planes have been condemned. We are keeping them until the government gives the order to scrap them. The Universal factory will be idle until we receive the word to reopen it.”
“I am making a full account of stock on hand,” explained Harlton. “I have completed all the statistics. It merely remains to compile the details. That, however, will not be a simple task. It involves many minor points.”
“You will do the work here,” declared Wimbledon. “Beginning with tomorrow morning, Harlton. I have cancelled all appointments for the next few days. This accounting is important. We shall work on it together.”
THERE was a pause. It was Lamont Cranston who took up the conversation. In leisurely fashion, the millionaire removed his cigarette from his lips and spoke in a quiet, even tone.
“This is quite interesting,” he remarked. “I came here tonight merely to talk with Mr. Wimbledon regarding a new speed plane that I might like to purchase. I find, however, that he will be busy for the next few days. So I shall postpone the matter.
“I must confess that I am quite surprised to find the police commissioner in conference with Mr. Wimbledon. I knew that Mr. Wimbledon has been negotiating with the federal government; I am somewhat perplexed to find that the local law has also commanded his attention.”
It was Weston who responded. The police commissioner chuckled as he turned to face Lamont Cranston. Nodding in approval of the millionaire’s keenness, he produced the answer.
“Very few facts escape your notice, Cranston,” remarked the commissioner. “Since you are a friend of mine and also are acquainted with Mr. Wimbledon, I see no reason why you should not be taken into our confidence.
“Last night, a private investigator named MacAvoy Crane was slain by a notorious murderer called Strangler Hunn. The killer was shot dead by a detective. Before the fight, he managed to destroy all the papers which he had found in Crane’s apartment.
“MacAvoy Crane was in the employ of Roscoe Wimbledon. He was seeking facts regarding the business contacts of Lester Drayson, the missing president of Universal Aircraft Corporation.
“Mr. Wimbledon called me personally to tell me that Crane was in his employ. We hold to the theory that Strangler Hunn was acting under orders to kill MacAvoy Crane and to destroy the documents.”
“Quite logical,” stated Cranston.
“It is obvious,” asserted Weston, “that the man behind the game is Lester Drayson. Therefore, I am ordering a general search for the missing president of Universal Aircraft. If he happens to be in New York, we shall uncover him.”
There was emphasis in Weston’s tone. Every one nodded in approval, with the exception of Cranston.
The millionaire drew upon his cigarette; blew forth a puff then asked:
“And if Drayson is not in New York?”
There was no answer.
FOUR men sat silent, expecting Cranston to follow, up the quizzical remark. The millionaire did not disappoint them.
“The theory is a good beginning,” stated Cranston. “Let us assume that Strangler Hunn was working under orders. But does that prove that Lester Drayson would place himself in position to be captured?
“Quite the reverse. I should imagine that he would stay away from New York. But I can see another possibility. If murder has been used as a means to suppress facts, it might be used again.
“Strangler Hunn — a hired killer. Why not a second paid assassin to carry on the work now that Hunn is dead? Have you any proof that Crane is the only man to be eliminated?”