Barth waved interruption. He barked an order at Klein, telling the grizzled inspector to remain in charge of the Morath case. With that, Barth strode through the passage toward the front street where his car was parked.
Cardona swung along beside the commissioner. The Shadow followed at an easy pace. His tall form was almost lost in the darkness of the passage.
Again, a grim whisper came from The Shadow’s disguised lips. Once more, murder had struck upon the hour.
CHAPTER V
MURDER AT SEVEN
THE Hotel Gilderoy was an establishment that catered to resident guests. Its lobby was quiet, but spacious. A policeman, in charge there, looked inconspicuous when Barth and his companions entered.
In fact, the officer was not the first person whom the commissioner saw. Barth’s immediate gaze settled upon an elderly, gray-haired gentleman who was standing by the desk, talking to the clerk. The commissioner recognized this individual.
“Hiram Caffley!”
The gray-haired man turned about as he heard Barth’s ejaculation. An expression of relief showed upon Caffley’s thin, drooping features as he stepped forward to shake hands with the commissioner.
“Meet Mr. Cranston,” said Barth to Caffley, “A friend of mine, accompanying me on an investigation. This is Mr. Caffley, Cranston. Alloy manufacturer — makes metals for airplanes, What’s the name of that alloy, Caffley?”
“Ferroluminum,” replied Caffley, in a methodical tone. “But there is no time to talk about it at present, commissioner. I am more concerned over the shocking death of Newell Frieth.”
“The man murdered here? Did you know him, Caffley?”
“I had an appointment with him this evening, commissioner. At seven o’clock. The house detective and I discovered his body.”
“Where? In his room?”
“In his suite on the third floor. We summoned the police. The house detective — his name is Lewis — is up there now. I have been awaiting your arrival, Commissioner.”
“We shall go up at once. Where are the elevators? Ah, yes. I see Cardona has found them. Come with us, Cranston.”
THE group reached the third floor to find another officer waiting. A door was open not far from the elevator. They entered a living room, went through to a bedroom and stopped there to view a sprawled figure on the floor.
Newell Frieth’s body was crumpled face forward. Black hair formed a mop above white-shirted shoulders. Gray carpeting was stained with blood.
Cardona approached the body; a tiny glimmer caught his eye. The detective stooped and pointed.
“Another percussion cap, commissioner,” said Cardona, solemnly. “The killer’s gotten here ahead of us.”
“The killer?” queried Caffley.
“A fiendish murderer!” explained Barth. “This is his third victim within three hours.”
“His third!”
“Yes. He murdered a man named Jeremy Lentz; and another named Howard Morath.”
“Lentz the inventor? Morath the lawyer?”
“Yes. Did you know them?”
Barth spoke eagerly as he turned to Caffley. The commissioner’s face showed concern as he saw a terrified stare appear upon the manufacturer’s droopy features. The Shadow’s eyes were keen; they looked like burning orbs from the countenance of Cranston. While Cardona joined Barth in a troubled stare, The Shadow alone divined the words that were due from Caffley’s lips.
“I did not know them.” Caffley spoke slowly, mechanically. “But Frieth knew them. He and they were associated in the same enterprise. It was on account of it that I made my appointment with Frieth.”
“Sit down, Caffley,” urged Barth. “Take that big chair. A glass of water, Cardona. Tell me, Caffley; you say the three dead men were associated? Were there others with them?”
“Not to my knowledge, commissioner.”
“Ah! That is, good. Do you hear that, Cranston?” Barth turned toward his friend; The Shadow’s eyes had lost their gleam. “Three men, associated; but only three. We can hope that murder has ended.”
Cardona arrived with the glass of water. Caffley sipped it; then settled back in his chair. He reached in his inside pocket and drew out an envelope.
“Jeremy Lentz,” explained Caffley, “was the inventor of an alloy called Duro Metal. Howard Morath was the attorney applying for its patent. The man who lies dead before you — Newell Frieth — was the promoter who sought to market the new commodity.”
“What is Duro Metal?” asked Barth. “I mean, what is its particular value?”
“It resembles ferroluminum — my own product — which I spoke about in the lobby, when you entered. But it can be produced more cheaply than ferroluminum. For that reason, Frieth sought to sell me the patent rights.”
“You came here to buy them, tonight?”
“I had already bought them. For a high price. Two million dollars.”
“Two million dollars! In one payment?”
“The contract called for ten payments of two hundred thousand dollars each, on a ten-months’ basis. Here, commissioner, is the contract” — Caffley drew a folded paper from the envelope — “and with it, my certified check for two hundred thousand dollars.”
Barth spread out the contract and glanced over it, holding it so his friend Cranston could read it also. Barth pointed out one clause; he turned to catch Cranston’s nod.
“According to the contract, Caffley,” observed Barth, “you were to receive all the documents pertaining to the special metals used in the alloy called Duro Metal.”
“That is right,” nodded Caffley. “I signed the contract. Frieth signed it and had Morath and Lentz do the same. Then he returned it to me and made this appointment. I was to appear with the contract and the first certified check. Frieth, in return, was to deliver all existing papers that pertained to Duro Metal.”
BARTH was about to put a question when he heard someone coming from the living room. Two men entered; one was the police surgeon who had been at Lentz’s; the other was a keen-faced individual who introduced himself as Lewis, the house dick of the Hotel Gilderoy.
The surgeon began an examination of Frieth’s body; meanwhile, Barth ordered Cardona to be ready to take notes while the hotel detective gave testimony.
“I’ve got an idea about this case, commissioner,” began Lewis, in a brisk tone. “Maybe I should have shown some action on it; but I thought that duty belonged to the police.”
“That was good judgment,” commanded Barth. “You did well to await our arrival. Let us hear your testimony, my man.”
“Mr. Caffley has already given his statement?”
“Yes. Have you anything to add, Caffley?”
“Only this, commissioner,” replied the alloy manufacturer. “Before Lewis commences, I might tell you the simple details as I saw them. As I mentioned, I had an appointment with Frieth, set for seven o’clock. On that account, I did not go home to Long Island. I remained at my office until half past five, holding conference with representatives of two aircraft corporations.
“Judge Channing was present as advisor for one of the companies. The judge and I left together and rode by taxi to his club. He wanted me to dine with him; but it was nearly six o’clock and I knew that I could not break away within an hour.
“So I left the judge and went to dinner alone. At that, I was a trifle late when I arrived here at the Hotel Gilderoy.
“I inquired at the desk for Mr. Frieth and learned that he had come in at quarter of seven. They rang his room; but he did not reply. I told the clerk that Frieth expected me; but further ringing proved of no avail.
“I insisted then that I must see the man. The clerk called the house detective. Lewis and I came up to this suite. Lewis knocked for a full minute. There was no answer, so he unlocked the door and we entered. We found Frieth’s body.”