“This is Commissioner Weston,” introduced Cardona.
“Indeed!” exclaimed Bexler, as he extended his hand. “This is unexpected, gentlemen. I was just preparing to leave to meet all of you at Ferrell Gault’s.”
“We decided to come out here,” explained Weston, in a methodical tone. “Cardona and I went to Dutton’s; then to Brockthorpe’s. We brought them along with us.”
“I see,” smiled Bexler. “You decided to go the rounds. You thought it best to see all of the valuables that had been returned.”
“Precisely. First-hand observation is best. The simultaneous return of the stolen treasures is fully as mysterious as their theft. I have hopes, Bexler, of tracing the unknown thief.”
“Any luck as yet?”
“No.” Commissioner Weston was seating himself as he spoke. The others had already done so. Bexler copied the example. “The mystery began this afternoon, when Dutton called Cardona to state that a package had been delivered at his home. It contained the stolen Sicilian tapestry.
“Hardly had Cardona reported this before a call came from Rudolph Brockthorpe to announce the fact that his Chinese screens had been delivered at his house. Then came your call, Bexler, regarding the Persian throne.”
“Did Gault call last?” inquired Bexler.
“Gault did not call at all,” stated Weston. “Cardona telephoned his home and learned that he was out of town. A servant stated that a heavy box had been delivered. Cardona ordered the man to open it. The box contained the jeweled Buddha.”
“I see,” nodded Bexler. “Then Gault found out about it when he arrived back in town?”
“He is not here yet,” stated Weston. “He is due in New York at eleven o’clock. I decided that all four of you gentlemen should get together. That is why I picked Gault’s apartment for the meeting. We can be there when he arrives.”
“Very well,” nodded Bexler. “Cardona did not tell me that Gault was not in town. I wondered why the meeting had been set at such a late hour. I begin to understand.”
“Commissioner Weston figured we could go to the other places in the meantime,” broke in Joe Cardona. “Mr. Dutton’s tapestry is safe in its room, with a man from headquarters on watch. The same with Mr. Brockthorpe’s screens. They were both pleased with the idea of having a detective on duty. Their places needed it. That’s why we came out here, to see if you required the same protection.”
“I have placed the throne in my vault,” explained Bexler. “That, of course, is stronger than the rooms where Dutton and Brockthorpe keep their treasures.”
“It’s where the crooks copped it from.”
“That is correct, Cardona. Of course, I have had the vault thoroughly inspected and changed the combination.”
“Gault’s Buddha is in his vault waiting until he gets back. Just the same, we’ve got two men posted there as a precaution.”
“Do not misunderstand me. I believe I should have a headquarters man guard here. But I do not consider the precaution as pressing. Do you have a man with you?”
“No.” It was Commissioner Weston who spoke. “Cardona can call headquarters, Bexler. The man will be here in half an hour.”
HUBERT BEXLER glanced at his watch. He raised his hand to stop Cardona as the detective was stepping toward the telephone.
“It is half past ten,” stated Bexler. “We should start at once if we expect to arrive at Gault’s before eleven. Suppose we call headquarters from there.”
“But in the meantime?”
“Cuthbert can remain on guard. He is armed. Suppose we start, gentlemen. I can ride in with you, commissioner. Cuthbert! My hat and coat.”
Hubert Bexler spoke in emphatic fashion. Cuthbert brought hat and overcoat. The visitors had not taken off their outer garments. They were rising as Bexler slipped his arms into the coat that Cuthbert held.
“Maybe you’d like to look at the vault, commissioner,” suggested Cardona, turning to Weston. “How about it, Mr. Bexler?”
“Time is too short,” returned Bexler, as he took his hat from Cuthbert. “It would require fifteen minutes, at least, for me to explain the features of the vault. A mere glimpse of it would be useless.”
“Yes,” agreed Weston. “You are right, Bexler. Put your servant on watch. We can send a man out from Manhattan.”
“Guard the vault, Cuthbert,” ordered Bexler. “Have that revolver of yours ready.”
“Yes, sir.”
Bexler turned toward the door. The others were about to join him when Joe Cardona raised a warning hand.
“Listen!” said the detective, in a low tone.
SILENCE followed as Cardona glanced toward the window. The shades were drawn. From beyond — somewhere past the side of the house — the listeners could hear the sounds of low throbbing motors.
“That’s beyond the hedge,” warned Cardona. “That’s the same spots the crooks used when they stole the Persian throne. There’s no reason for cars to be in that side lane. Put out the lights, some one. I want to look.”
Sebastian Dutton pressed the light switch by the door. Cardona moved to the window. Weston followed. The detective pressed back the side of a shade and stared into the outer darkness.
“Look, commissioner!” he exclaimed. “See those figures, by the hedge? Somebody’s sneaking in toward the side door. Like they did the night when they grabbed the throne—”
A grunt came from Weston. The commissioner was staring intently. Others were moving toward the window. A low whisper sounded in the room. It was a muffled order, unnoticed by any except the man to whom it was given.
“There’s a guy at the door,” spoke Cardona, in a low tone. “Another in back of him. They’re trying to get in.”
“Stop them!” answered Weston.
“Let them in!” returned Cardona. “We can trap them here, commissioner, if—”
The detective’s suggestion ended in a sudden cry of anger as some one pressed the switch and flooded the room with light. The utterance was followed by a snort from Weston.
Detective and commissioner wheeled. With them turned two others: Dutton and Brockthorpe. All four were rooted with astonishment. Hubert Bexler was standing by the inner door; Cuthbert — he had pressed the switch — was at the outer.
Master and servant were holding leveled revolvers. The glare on Bexler’s face was duplicated on Cuthbert’s visage. Then, at a snarled call from Bexler, two more men appeared from the passage that led to the stairs.
With revolvers in their hands, Slug Bracken and a henchman had added their aid. Poor defenseless men were covered by four armed ruffians. Bewildered, the helpless visitors gained their glimmer of the truth.
Bands of crooks had worked under the hidden leadership of an unknown chief who had revealed himself. Hubert Bexler was the master hand of crime!
CHAPTER XX
ENEMIES SPEAK
“FOOLS!” Hubert Bexler snarled the epithet. “If you had stayed away from here to-night, you could have kept your precious treasures. I sought them; but I lost them. I do not need them any longer.”
The gray-haired speaker paused, a fiendish glare upon his face. Usually benign, Bexler had no further reason to mask his expression. He seemed to enjoy the privilege of showing himself as he was.
“Four robberies,” sneered Bexler. “Actually there were to have been five, in my scheme to gain a million. Aided by a clever man — Mark Tyrell — and these other henchmen, I engineered my work.
“We robbed you, Dutton. Tyrell snatched the tapestry from beneath your door. Your screens, Brockthorpe, were slid out between the bars on the windows of your strongroom. Gault’s Buddha was removed through a secret panel. Tyrell failed, however, when he sought the diamond tiara owned by Powers Jordan.