Veldon laid the newspaper aside. He noted that his companion looked toward the printed sheet. Veldon studied Dustin warily. He suspected that an odd thought was in the man’s mind. He put his opinion to the test.
“You have read about the Clussig case?” quizzed Veldon.
“Yes,” nodded Dustin. “I don’t like it.”
“I don’t blame you,” responded Veldon. “It shows that someone may have struck upon one of Wycroft Dustin’s original ideas.”
“One of my ideas?” echoed Dustin.
“Yes,” replied Veldon suavely. “You recall that dry ice which you manufactured with carbon monoxide?”
“That was your idea, Veldon!” exclaimed Dustin. “I would never have thought of it if it had not been for your suggestion!”
“You performed the experiment,” reminded Veldon. “After all, you deserve credit for the innovation. It is one of your own contributions to chemical research.”
WYCROFT DUSTIN’S face grew stern. This man was different from Merle Clussig. He seemed more businesslike than the dead inventor, although his face bore the placidity of a typical experimenter.
“There is no use in arguing it, Veldon,” asserted Dustin. “You talked with me regarding my experiments in neutralizing the effects of carbon monoxide. You suggested that it might be possible to make dry ice — which contains harmless carbon dioxide — with a deadly gas, namely carbon monoxide.
“I developed the idea purely to have carbon monoxide available for my neutralizing experiments. My new dry ice was successful — too much so. Its evaporation produced a much greater quantity of carbon monoxide than I had anticipated. I never repeated the experiment. I gave you the formula, however.”
“So you did,” declared Veldon thoughtfully. “I had forgotten that fact. Do you know, Dustin, this Clussig death could have been brought about by that medium?”
“Certainly,” returned Dustin seriously. “The newspaper reports alarmed me. It would have been quite possible for that unknown visitor to Clussig’s apartment house to have left a quantity of dry ice containing carbon monoxide. I read the news account only a few hours ago. I had thought about informing the police of my conclusion.”
“Very inadvisable,” asserted Veldon.
“So I decided,” admitted Dustin. “I realized that I was actually the experimenter who had produced a deadly form of dry ice. I feared that the police might connect me with this unfortunate death. I have been wondering, Veldon” — Dustin’s tone became almost apologetic — “if you had ever met this man Clussig.”
“I never heard of him before,” said Veldon, with a shake of his head.
“I am glad to hear that,” remarked Dustin, in a relieved tone. “I knew that you promoted various forms of inventions; I thought possibly that you might have been acquainted with Clussig.”
There was a short pause, while Veldon again shook his head. Then Dustin spoke again in an apprehensive tone.
“You have always been interested,” he said, “in my dangerous discoveries. The sedative gas which produces harmful effects; the powder which causes lethal vapor; this dry ice with carbon monoxide — you have the formulas for all—”
“Forget them,” interposed Veldon. “What I want, Dustin, is the opportunity to promote your neutralizer. Imagine the money to be made if every garage used it to offset carbon monoxide from exhaust pipes. I could get big business men interested in such a product.”
“I am looking forward to results,” returned Dustin, becoming enthusiastic. “My tests with palladium chloride have been improved to make a more effective measurement of carbon monoxide when it exists in the atmosphere of a room. But so far as a neutralizing agent is concerned, I have not accomplished all that I intended.
“I have followed the old method used in purifying the air of an oversurcharge of carbon dioxide, namely by the use of sodium peroxide, which has the absorbent property which gives off an equivalent amount of pure oxygen. Carbon monoxide, however, is insidious. Its neutralization must be accomplished with a certainty—”
“I understand,” interrupted Veldon. “However, I am interested in learning exactly what you have accomplished. I believe that I can undertake a profitable promotion. Would it be possible, Dustin, for you to make a special experiment this evening?”
“For what purpose?”
“To ascertain, by careful measurement, the exact results which you have gained in neutralization of carbon monoxide.”
“I can do that,” nodded Dustin. “You understand, Veldon, that I have been prompted by two plans. One is to eliminate carbon monoxide by the replacement of an equivalent amount of pure oxygen. The other is to surcharge carbon monoxide with an additional supply of oxygen, thus producing carbon dioxide, which, lacking the poisonous qualities, would prove harmless unless it occurred in a large amount.”
“Give me all your results,” decided Veldon, “after you have made definite experiments tonight. You can return to your laboratory this evening?”
“Certainly,” said Dustin. “I have a man there at present. The place will be open.”
“Good,” said Veldon.
THE discussion was forgotten as the two men ordered their dinner. Wycroft Dustin was completely ignorant of the fact that Eric Veldon had dined here with Merle Clussig on the preceding evening. There was a strange similarity in the two occasions. On each, Veldon had acted as the host; he had also suggested special work for his guest to perform during the evening.
Strangely, Dustin’s conversation again reverted to Merle Clussig. The chemical experimenter, as he ate his meal, began to talk of the dead inventor. The cause of Clussig’s death was preying on his mind.
“I should notify the police,” Dustin told Veldon. “I really feel that it is my duty. Suppose that the carbon monoxide ice had been planted in that room, Veldon! It evaporates as rapidly as ice formed from carbon dioxide. I can picture it in my mind. Ice formed of carbon monoxide — hidden in that room, giving off its terrible vapor!”
“Perhaps you are right, Dustin,” said Veldon. “However, the thought is not a pleasant one. Suppose we forget it until tomorrow night. You can meet me here for dinner. We can then discuss your tests. After that, we can take up the matter of Clussig’s unfortunate death.”
“I note that the detectives searched for gas pipes,” persisted Dustin. “They found none, Veldon. That makes me feel positive that someone has duplicated my experiments. Just think of it! The dry ice could have been carried in a compact rubber container—”
“You seem to have a plotting mind,” chuckled Veldon. “You must not forget your calling, Dustin. You are an experimenter, not a detective — or” — Veldon paused, and a smile flickered on his lips — “a criminal.”
Dustin was startled by the final words. The suggestion added to his worriment. He wanted to make a protest at Veldon’s artful remark. He realized that he, Wycroft Dustin, had actually produced a substance which could be used by criminals for the perpetration of a baffling crime.
Silence persisted as the men continued eating. Dustin was still worried. Veldon adopted a saturnine expression which did not allay the chemist’s anxiety. When the meal was ended, Dustin stalked gloomily from the grill room with Veldon beside him. They parted outside the hotel.
“You are going directly to your laboratory,” reminded Veldon.
“Yes,” promised Dustin. “I shall meet you here tomorrow evening.”
The men shook hands. Wycroft Dustin entered a cab and gave a destination to the driver. Eric Veldon retired to the quiet lobby of the hotel. There, the sallow-faced promoter entered a telephone booth and made a call. When he again appeared in the lobby, his face was gleaming with its evil smile.