With his right hand he made an almost imperceptible movement and Darwin stepped behind Starr.
“Have you a key to this?” asked Farnsworth, turning, but still standing so that he was between the desk and Starr.
“No,” replied Starr, his eyes on the carpet.
“I’ll put the frisk on him,” said Darwin.
“It won’t do no good,” declared Starr. “I ain’t got no key.”
“You lied about the key to the door.”
“I ain’t lyin’ now. Search me.”
He raised his hands.
“Wait,” said Farnsworth. “Where does the porter keep his tools?”
“You goin’ to break open Mr. Thompson’s desk?” gasped Starr.
“Answer my question.”
“Down in the basement.”
“Can you run that elevator, Darwin?”
“Sure, inspector.”
“Go down to the basement and find some kind of an iron bar.”
“I’ll run him down,” said Starr eagerly.
“You’ll stay right here. Hurry, Darwin.”
Darwin passed through the door.
“Whatta yuh keepin’ me up here for?” asked Starr.
“I want to talk to you,” Farnsworth declared. “Flow long have you worked for Mr. Thompson?”
“Ten years,” said Starr surlily.
“Does Thompson ever come up here nights?”
“When he’s in town he does.”
“Does he have any visitors — I mean at night?”
“Sometimes.”
“Who comes to see him?”
“I don’t know all of ’em.”
“Name some of them.”
Starr’s low forehead wrinkled.
“Mr. Timmons, the lawyer; Mr. Conroy, the real estate man. He comes most of all. He handles Mr. Thompson’s property and he’s the agent of this buildin’. That’s all I can think of now.”
“Don’t the tenants and visitors register in and out at night?”
Starr shook his head.
“We ain’t got no register. It ain’t no use. Nobody comes in here at night except once in a while and I know ’em.”
“Couldn’t any one come into this building without you seeing him?”
“Nope. If I don’t run ’em up in the elevator, I see ’em when they go up the stairway — I set so I can see the steps.”
“What about the basement?”
“Nothin’ doin’. That’s locked tight and a bar across the door. Say, what does all this mean anyway?”
Farnsworth, who had not changed his position, did not reply.
The silence seemed oppressive.
Starr’s eyes went to the door.
“He’s comin’ back,” he remarked, uneasily. “I hear the elevator.”
“Look here!” snapped Farnsworth, stepping to one side.
Starr glanced at the desk.
“Come closer,” ordered Farnsworth, taking him by the arm.
Starr took a step forward, only to stop as if he had encountered some invisible yet impassable barrier. A gurgle escaped his throat and his eyes seemed about to burst from his head.
“You understand now why I’m going to break open Thompson’s desk?”
“That’s hair stickin’ out from under the lid! Oh, my God, yeller hair’s stickin’ out from under the lid!”
He staggered back, his mouth hanging open. Farnsworth kept his keen gray eyes on Starr’s ashy, twitching face.
A tower clock boomed once.
Then, just outside the door, could be heard the light footsteps of Darwin.
As if his body had suddenly come to life, Starr leaped toward the door.
Farnsworth’s foot shot out and Starr struck the carpet on his face.
“Don’t try that again,” said Farnsworth, pulling him to his feet.
He spoke in a low, calm tone, but in his voice was something metallic.
“Got just what we need,” said Darwin, entering briskly. “It’s for openin’ packin’ cases.”
With only a glance at the protruding strand of golden hair, he thrust the bar under the lid of the desk.
The stout lock resisted. Finally, he thrust his full weight on the bar. Metal snapped and the top flew back with a bang.
The lights played on the blond features of a slight young woman; features so fine and beautiful they might have been carved from rarest marble.
Yet those features were marred by a purple hole in the center of the smooth, white forehead.
Farnsworth started and something that might have been a gasp escaped his throat. Darwin glanced at the corpse, then kept his eyes on Starr, who had turned his back with the breaking of the lock.
The telephone rang. In the silence, the bell’s vibrations fairly assaulted the eardrums. Farnsworth lifted the receiver. From it, came an eerie laugh, and then the lights went out.
Chapter IV
Terrible Laughter
There was a movement in the darkness, a streak of fire, and a terrific report.
“Halt!” Darwin shouted, dashing forward, ready to fire again.
Instead of obeying the command, Starr fled faster.
Darwin plunged after him, crashed into the door to the hall, recovered. He fired a second time. Starr was rushing down the hall, invisible. But the fleet-footed Darwin closed the gap sufficiently to grasp him as he leaped into the elevator.
In the narrow confines of the old car, snarling like an animal, Starr wrested himself from Darwin’s grip, and lashed out with heavy blows.
Darwin closed with his antagonist, and locked together, the two men burst from the car.
In the corridor, Darwin, with a mighty heave, endeavored to bear the superintendent to the floor.
With seeming ease, Starr broke free, and for an instant, since in the darkness he was guided only by his ears, Darwin was not sure of the other’s position. Suddenly two long, muscular arms encircled his body pinning his arms, holding him as if he were caught in a vise.
Against that crushing clutch, Darwin threw all the strength of his compact, hard body. But Starr’s arms only closed about him the tighter, and he was as helpless as if bound.
Gradually, Starr bent him further and further backward until it seemed as if his spine would crack. Suddenly he sagged forward. The move was a trick. They toppled and as they were falling Darwin twisted and when they struck the stone floor, was on top.
Darwin managed to wrest one hand free. That hand darted beneath the tail of his coat. It darted out again. Then there was a soft thud and Starr’s body became limp.
As Darwin bounded to his feet, the beam of Farnsworth’s flash light pierced the blackness and came to rest on the face of the unconscious superintendent.
“I hadda feed him the sap,” panted Darwin. “He was fightin’ like a crazy man. Jeez, it feels like he busted a coupla ribs. He’s as strong as a bull.”
“Why didn’t you call?” asked Farnsworth.
“I knew you hung back for somethin’ and I thought I could handle him.”
“I wasn’t worried about you.”
“Find anything?”
“Nothing. The lights going out might have been coincidence.”
Starr’s limbs twitched and his eyes opened.
He blinked at the ray of light and his lips started to move.
Darwin assisted him to rise, and kept a firm grip on his arm, his revolver in readiness.
“I didn’t turn out them lights,” whined Starr.
“No,” answered Farnsworth. “I’m certain of that.”
“It musta been a fuse blowed. Coulda been nothin’ else but a fuse blowed.”
“Where are the fuses?”
“They ain’t up here; they’re down in the basement. All the fuses is down in the basement.”
“Take him down and see if it was a fuse, Darwin. Don’t waste any time — and don’t take any unnecessary chances.”
“I won’t take no chances with this bozo. You’ll wait here?”