“Do what you want with the dog,” Tharbel was adding from the door. “He’s a keen animal. He liked me today because I had been out with the dogs since daybreak. If nobody else wants him, we can give him to Harman to keep around the lodge.”
CARDONA turned to see what reply the prosecutor intended to make. There was none. Swinging back, Cardona noticed that Cuthbert Challick had closed the door to the front room, and was strolling away from it.
Tharbel was leaving. Hollis Harman, the jovial-faced fellow, was going with him. So was Wade Hosth, the tall, solemn huntsman. Neither of Tharbel’s companions made a comment.
“What are you going to do about it?” queried Cardona, of the prosecutor.
“Follow Tharbel’s suggestions,” replied Davies. “He’s the county detective — not I. This piece of machinery” — he tapped the air gun — “will be yours after the inquests.”
“I’m going over to the inn,” remarked Cuthbert Challick, from the door by the hall. “I’ll have dinner with you, later on.”
“All right,” agreed Cardona.
After Challick had started down the stairs, Cardona suddenly remembered the spot on the floor. He glanced hastily about him; besides the prosecutor and the stenographer, there were only three others in the room. Clyde Burke, Joel Neswick, and Scudder had remained where they were.
Then Cardona looked to the floor. The silhouette was gone. A thoughtful expression appeared upon the detective’s swarthy face. He was positive now that the case was not closed. New angles lay ahead.
Hoyt Wyngarth was not Mox. The man had been too frightened, too sincere, to be the master fiend. Mox still lived; the villain could yet wreak mischief. Sulu, the murderous minion, was dead. Whatever malice Mox contemplated would have to be of his own doing.
Hoyt Wyngarth was dead because he had talked too much. Danger, perhaps, faced Irving Salbrook if he should dare to speak. Cardona saw the possibilities that lay ahead, however. Salbrook might be valuable, once Mox was brought to bay.
That was the game: to uncover Mox himself! While Salbrook still remained a prisoner, the master plotter would never travel far from Darport.
Uncover Mox? How could it be done?
The answer lay in the profiled shadow which Cardona had spotted on the floor. The ace detective had failed to note the man whom that silhouette represented, but he had a hunch as to who its owner was.
With The Shadow still in Darport, there would be a chance to corner Mox. That was the game that Cardona meant to play. In the back of his head, the star detective saw the way.
He had confidence — Cardona — now that he had seen the mystic profile. For that splotch of facial blackness was a token that Cardona had seen before.
Cardona had recognized the silhouette as the sign of The Shadow’s presence. Here, in this room, The Shadow had viewed double death, and had witnessed the events which followed it.
The Shadow, like Joe Cardona, would be ready to end the evil career of Mox. With such an ally close at hand, Cardona felt that he could win the grim game!
CHAPTER XIX
CARDONA’S PLAN
JOE CARDONA stayed at the Darport Inn that night. So did Joe Neswick, Cuthbert Challick, and Clyde Burke. The four were to testify at the coroner’s inquests the next day.
They formed a friendly group, these four: two inventors, a reporter, and a detective. All the while, Joe Cardona maintained his thoughts. His plan was formulating hour by hour.
When the inquests ended the next day, and the four men returned to the inn to pack up, the time had come for Cardona to begin his action.
There was a subtle message which Cardona intended to convey. Because of the friendship which he had formed with his three companions, he decided to confide with them in a group. At the inn, he found Challick in the lobby, and signaled the inventor to come with him. In an upstairs room, he discovered Neswick packing. Clyde Burke was there, chatting with the second inventor.
Cardona closed the door. He made a dramatic gesture, and his companions turned in his direction. Neswick stopped packing. Cardona began to talk.
“What I’ve got to say is confidential,” he declared. “That applies to you in particular, Burke. I know you well enough. You’re too smart a reporter to kill a story before it breaks.”
“Spill it, Joe,” suggested Clyde.
“I am convinced,” declared Cardona firmly, “that Hoyt Wyngarth was not Mox.”
Looks of surprise came from the other men.
“Who do you suspect, Joe?” quizzed Clyde. “Irving Salbrook?”
“No.” Cardona shook his head. “I’m not naming anybody. I’ve just got a general sort of hunch that’s all. Do you want to hear it?”
“Sure thing.”
“First of all,” asserted Cardona, “Mox had his agent, Schuyler Harlew. He was the fellow who kidded you, Neswick, and you, Challick. Mox had a bunch of henchmen, too, a regular mob, in that old house of his. One of the crew was this mug Sulu.
“I think Mox killed Peter Greerson and others, too. Anyway, there was some hook-up between him and both Wyngarth and Salbrook — enough to let him heave the blame on one or the other of them when the crash came. That’s just what he did — lay in on Wyngarth, by means of that note that Junius Tharbel showed us.”
“But what about the note you got?” queried Burke.
“Somebody planted it in my pocket,” announced Cardona. “Somebody must have seen Tharbel’s note, and copied it. There’s a mysterious figure in this game — a fighter that’s out to get Mox. He’s the one who rescued you, Neswick. He brought Salbrook into the picture just to kill Mox’s plot against Wyngarth.
“I’ll tell you what Mox did. He had Sulu bump off Wyngarth. He had the dwarf ready on the job for just what happened. He was hoping that the case could be closed by Wyngarth’s death. It was.”
“Why don’t you quiz Salbrook?” suggested Burke.
“Because Mox would try to get him if I did,” returned Cardona. “If Salbrook goes free and keeps mum, he’ll be all right. It’s a lucky break for him, the way things have turned out.”
“But if Mox came after Irving Salbrook—”
“I know; I could be there to try and save him. But I didn’t save Wyngarth, did I? You weren’t even able to do that, Challick” — Cardona spoke approvingly — “although you made a great attempt to do so when you spotted Sulu in the tree.
“No, sir. This time, Mox would try the job himself. Even in New York, Salbrook wouldn’t be safe. He wouldn’t talk in New York; he wouldn’t have to. We’ve got no charge against him there, outside of some petty racketeering.
“But I’ve figured a way to make Salbrook talk. That’s to meet Mox myself. Maybe I won’t be alone. Maybe The — the hidden player will be in the game, too. But here’s how I’m going to work it. The State police have left that old house.”
“I see,” observed Challick, with a slight smile. “You believe in the old theory of a murderer returning to the scene of his crime.”
“Bunk, as a rule,” returned Cardona. “But not if the murderer knows that there’s chance for another murder waiting him!”
Eyebrows raised. Cardona’s scheme was just beginning to make itself apparent. The detective continued.
“Mox murdered at midnight,” he declared. “I’ll bet the fox still can get in and out of that house without being seen. So I’m going over there tonight. Going alone, understand. You two will be out of town” — he nodded toward Neswick and then Challick — “and you’ll stay out of the thing, Burke. Understand?”