“We believe that they tried to interfere with the activities of those who actually entered the house. Therefore we estimate that there must have been at least one dozen of the original raiders.”
“Why one dozen?” inquired Cranston.
“It would have required that many,” assured Barth, staring upward, through his spectacles, “to have eliminated so many enemies. That is my opinion.”
“Does Detective Cardona share it?”
“He seemed rather doubtful at first. He was rather reluctant, but he finally agreed with me.”
A thin smile showed on Cranston’s lips. Joe Cardona would naturally have been reluctant to state his own theory. For Joe Cardona was one member of the Manhattan force who had previously viewed the results of The Shadow’s work. Well did Joe know of The Shadow’s power.
Commissioner Barth, however, had branded The Shadow as a myth. Barth’s term of office had been short. It would probably end when Ralph Weston, the previous commissioner, returned from the Republic of Garauca, where he was restoring order as head of the National Police.
Barth, as yet, had not learned what experience had taught Weston: namely, that The Shadow actually existed and was active in the eradication of crime. All of Barth’s success as commissioner had been due to the regime that Weston had so effectively established in New York. Weston’s success, in turn, had been made possible through the hidden service of The Shadow. Though Weston was gone, The Shadow still remained.
“FELIX CURRIAN is a millionaire,” explained Barth, unwittingly giving facts to The Shadow, “and his guest last night was a man named Gerald Throckmorton. We believe that they were discussing financial matters and that certain sums of money may have been in view.
“Throckmorton is from Boston. A third man present was from the same city. His name is Parker Howland, and he is in the employ of a private detective agency in Massachusetts. A wire from Boston has informed us that Howland was assigned by the agency to accompany Throckmorton on his trip to New York.”
“What about the others?” questioned Cranston.
“Two servants,” replied Barth. “We have learned their names from Mrs. Currian, who returned from Washington when informed of the case. There was a third servant, however, whom we have not yet located. He was employed there under the name of Thomas Devin; but we believe that he was a crook, working for the ones who made the raid.”
“I see. What about the victims, commissioner?”
“You mean their condition?”
“Yes.”
“It is unchanged. When Detective Cardona reached Currian’s, he ordered them to be taken to the Talleyrand Hospital. Then he put in a call for Doctor Lagwood. He was just too late; Lagwood had left the hospital after sleeping there all day. He was on his way to his sanitarium on the Sound.
“The hospital called the sanitarium. Word was left for Doctor Lagwood to call back. After Cardona reached the hospital with the new batch of victims, the return call came in from the doctor. He gave orders concerning the new patients; then he came back to New York. He has been with the new victims since midnight. I am going up to the hospital immediately after lunch.”
The topic ended for the time being.
When the two club members were finishing their dessert, Cranston put a quiet question to Barth.
“You learned no more about the dead man, Troxton Valdan?”
“Not a great deal,” replied Barth. “He had made a trip to Providence, Rhode Island, and stayed there in a hotel over night. It was not the first time that he went to that city. We believe that he may have held a conference with someone there,”
“On what subject?”
“Chemical inventions. Valdan was a queer sort. His field of investigation seemed unlimited. He was living on royalties gained from formulas that had shown commercial value. Paper bleaching, elimination of carbon monoxide in garages, other ideas of various description.
“We cross-examined Benzig and Crowder to assure ourselves that neither of the men knew more than they had said. We have made no further progress with the case. It still remains a mystery. We have been utterly unable to trace the delivery men of whom Benzig spoke.”
With this statement, Commissioner Barth arose and glanced at his watch. He remarked that he must hurry to the hospital, as he wished to be there when Doctor Lagwood examined the patients. He added that the only other physicians whom Lagwood had allowed to be present were members of the hospital staff. With that, Barth departed.
LAMONT CRANSTON finished a cigarette. In deliberate fashion, he arose and strolled upstairs to the lobby. He put in a telephone call and spoke in the quiet tones that were Lamont Cranston’s accustomed voice. But when the receiver dropped in place, a soft, whispered laugh came from those thin lips. It was the laugh of The Shadow.
There was a reason for the quiet mirth. The Shadow knew that it would require Commissioner Barth fully thirty minutes to reach the Talleyrand Hospital. But the man whom The Shadow had called would be there in fifteen. The Shadow — using the tones of Cranston — had spoken to Doctor Rupert Sayre.
TWENTY MINUTES after he had received Cranston’s call, Rupert Sayre was seated in the little office which formed the headquarters of his college friend, Freddy Lawson. The two men were engaged in brief conversation.
“Speaking of these death sleep victims,” Lawson was saying, “the rule is that only staff physicians can view them. Then, of course, only when Doctor Lagwood permits it. They are in his charge. There have been times, though, when the rule has been stretched.
“Some of the staff are going up there now; and I think that it would be all right if you came along with me. After all, half the members of the staff hardly know each other. Simply act as if you were accustomed to the place and I don’t think you will be challenged by anyone.”
They went upstairs. They found a small group of doctors studying the patients. Doctor Lagwood, tall and dignified, was making a few remarks. Sayre listened while the specialist briefly dealt with different modes of treatment that he had applied. A few minutes after Sayre’s arrival, Commissioner Barth appeared.
Lagwood completed his discussion. The staff physicians left. Sayre, however, plucked Lawson’s sleeve and held his friend in the hallway just as Lagwood appeared with Barth. The specialist was nodding; he crossed the hall to his experimental room and made a beckoning gesture. Barth followed. Sayre also stepped forward, drawing Lawson with him.
Lagwood seemed a bit surprised when he saw the two doctors who had followed the commissioner. Then, recognizing Lawson as a staff physician, he made no objection to their presence. The question which Barth was putting referred only to matters which Lagwood had already discussed. The specialist was merely pointing out items of equipment with which Barth was not familiar.
“I used this for the vapor treatment,” explained Lagwood, indicating a little tentlike object. “I tried a special compound” — he picked up a small, empty bottle — “that I prepared after making blood tests. A neutralizer. I used it but sparingly. It produced no noticeable results.
“That, of course, was when I still believed that the effects of some gas might have been experienced by the victims. I knew that the use of a neutralizer was entirely experimental; but it was worthwhile if only as a test. I abandoned it, however, when the Valdan case proved so conclusively that noxious gas was not the cause of the death sleep.”
Sayre had edged forward. He was looking at the bottle. Lagwood saw his interest and handed it to him. Sayre noted that the label merely bore the word “Neutralizer” and the number 6. These were typed beneath the printed title: “Hoffer, Pharmacist.”