“You know, a great many people are so unimaginative that when they meet with the simplest facts that seem unexplainable, they seize upon the theory which is closest at hand, and none can shake them from it.”
“You have described Cardona,” declared Weston. “That form of susceptibility appears to be his weakness.
“When you first talked to me, a few months ago, about the higher methods of crime detection, I was extremely anxious to experiment along those lines.
“In Cardona, I have found the ideal man — from the practical standpoint. His records show that he utilizes facts to the utmost.
“You will have every opportunity to observe his methods. If he encounters difficulties that he cannot solve by his usual procedure, you can then make suggestions.
“Naturally, my first wish is that both these crimes may speedily be laid upon the guilty persons. Therefore, I hope that Cardona has immediate success.
“At the same time, it would intrigue me greatly if your cooperation should become necessary.”
“Particularly,” remarked Biscayne, “if one or both of these deaths should involve the man whom Cardona calls The Shadow.”
“Not The Shadow,” corrected Weston. “Say, rather, a man — criminal or otherwise — who might happen to appear upon the scene without revealing his identity.
“Should that occur, Biscayne, I shall give immediate orders to pursue him. But I feel convinced that Cardona’s ideas regarding such a person are purely misconceptions.”
The car had arrived at Biscayne’s home. After bidding the professor good night, the police commissioner rode to his own residence, feeling satisfied that the next day would bring interesting developments.
Biscayne, in leaving, had promised to call at Weston’s office the first thing in the morning. By that time, perhaps, Cardona would have more facts.
IT was nine o’clock the following day when Weston reached his office. His idea about Cardona’s activity was not a mistaken one. The detective had called up nearly an hour before, to leave word that he would be at the commissioner’s office before ten o’clock.
While Weston was awaiting Cardona’s arrival, a secretary entered to state that Professor Biscayne wished to see the police commissioner.
Biscayne entered, carrying a copy of the morning newspaper. Its report of the two murders were somewhat meager. Commissioner Weston had read the full accounts.
When Biscayne inquired if Cardona had discovered new data, Weston explained that the detective would arrive shortly. In the meantime, he produced the letter which had proclaimed the death of S. H., and gave it to Biscayne to examine.
“We believe that it refers to Silas Harshaw,” declared Weston. “That is Cardona’s belief. I feel that his opinion is correct.”
“It may be,” replied Biscayne quietly. “It is another evidence of Cardona’s method. He chooses the simplest and most direct explanation that he can obtain from a fact.
“This letter states that a man designated as S. H. has died. The initials of Silas Harshaw are S. H. Therefore, it seems to fit. Yet I do not think it would be wise to be too sure on this point.”
Scarcely had Biscayne finished speaking before Cardona himself was ushered into the office.
He had evidently arrived in great haste, but he curbed his impatience when the commissioner began to speak. Weston pointed to the letter which Biscayne held.
“We were just discussing this letter, Cardona,” said Weston. “I was telling Professor Biscayne that we thought S. H. must surely mean Silas Harshaw. Biscayne is doubtful—”
“I should not be surprised,” interposed Biscayne, “if this letter did actually refer to Silas Harshaw. But, theoretically, we cannot accept that belief on the evidence of the letter alone. It may be purely a coincidence.
“I suppose, Cardona, that you may have found some tangible fact about this letter that made you definitely believe it referred to Harshaw?”
“I had a hunch,” replied Cardona. “I told you that much yesterday, commissioner.”
“Last night,” reminded Weston, “you also mentioned another hunch — that there might be a connection between the murders of Silas Harshaw and Louis Glenn.”
“I am sure there is a link between them!” declared Cardona.
“Ah!” exclaimed Biscayne. “You have unearthed some new facts since we left you?”
“No,” said Cardona. “I have found no worth-while clews. But I have received something that makes me sure these two deaths were engineered by the same parties.
“You speak of coincidences, professor. They don’t happen twice in a row — not like this!”
As he spoke, Cardona drew an envelope from his pocket. It was identical with the envelope that Roger Biscayne held.
From the envelope, Cardona extracted a sheet of paper. He unfolded it and laid it triumphantly upon the glass-topped desk.
“This letter,” he announced, “arrived in this morning’s mail!”
Weston and Biscayne were staring at the typewritten sheet. It was very similar to the letter that had come two days before, but the wording varied slightly:
IN MEMORY OF
L. G.
WHO DIED
LAST NIGHT
HE WAS THE SECOND
“L. G.!” ejaculated Weston. “It must mean Louis Glenn!”
Biscayne did not register surprise. He was thoughtful. Then he spoke aloud, although he seemed to be talking to himself.
“Louis Glenn,” he said, “died a few minutes before eleven o’clock. This letter could have been written afterward—”
“Yes?” The sharp question came from Cardona. “Look at this envelope, professor. Notice its postmark. Ten o’clock!”
Biscayne seemed annoyed by the detective’s remark; then he nodded, in spite of himself. Cardona’s eyes flashed with pleasure.
“That letter,” said the detective, “was mailed before Louis Glenn died. It was mailed by some one who knew he was going to die. It may have been mailed by the slayer himself!”
He paused to let his words make an impression. Then, momentarily ignoring Professor Biscayne, Cardona stared directly at Commissioner Weston, and added a prophecy.
“Silas Harshaw was the first. Louis Glenn was the second. The murderer is still at large.
“You may count on it — there will be a third!”
CHAPTER IV
CARDONA MAKES PLANS
LATE that afternoon, Detective Joe Cardona again conferred with Commissioner Ralph Weston and Professor Roger Biscayne, in that same office.
The detective had been busy all day, tracing the past movements of Louis Glenn. Detective Sergeant Mayhew had been left in charge at Harshaw’s.
Cardona had stopped there twice, during the day.
There was a marked warmth of friendship between Cardona and Biscayne. This was due to two causes. First, because Cardona had proven his hunches, and therefore felt superior.
The second reason was because Biscayne had accompanied Cardona during the early afternoon, and had openly expressed his admiration for the detective’s painstaking ability.
Any antagonism that might have arisen between the two men would undoubtedly have been forced by Cardona, for Biscayne was trespassing upon the detective’s field.
Hence, Cardona, by demonstrating both intuition and competence, was secretly pleased with himself, and therefore quite willing to accept Biscayne’s presence.
Now that he felt sure of himself, Cardona had slipped back to his natural tendency. He was both critical and glum. For his most active efforts had brought no tangible results.
In the commissioner’s office, Cardona frankly admitted that the break he had expected had not arrived.