“One of the two who killed him,” Luke mumbled. “One of the two.”
Len Barker shuddered, but he was too frightened now even to speak. He just stood there staring at the big man.
“Sit down, Luke!” The Phantom’s voice was sharp and commanding in the grim silence. “Do you hear me? Sit down, or I’ll shoot a leg from under you.”
Luke turned his head and stared at the Phantom as though he had forgotten he was there. “Why must I sit down?” he asked. “Why?”
“Because this man is going to get what he deserves, but killing him won’t solve anything,” the Phantom explained slowly and patiently. “He has talked. What he knows will send the right man to the electric chair. This thug must live. If he dies, we have no case.”
“No case, huh?” Luke’s wits, never too bright, were extremely dull now. “I kill him, no case. Okay, so he lives. But tell me who drove the Doc half crazy and let me kill him. He’s the bird I want.”
“Doctor Winterly was an old, old man,” the Phantom said. “Nobody drove him crazy. He had gone senile. That’s why you were hired – to protect him. People were always trying to get him to promote something, bringing their problems to him. You were supposed to see that he wasn’t bothered. Only you slipped, Luke. Somebody got at Doctor Winterly.”
Luke’s senses were fairly normal now. “Yeah,” he said, “Doc thought he’d just invented the greatest thing of his career. Something about steel. He used to sound off about it and fuss around with a lot of chemicals.”
“He took money, too,” the Phantom said. “But Winterly wasn’t responsible for his part in this. Someone used him, Luke. Then, when he was no longer useful and became, in fact, a dangerous man, he was murdered and things arranged so it would seem that you had killed him.”
“Me?” Luke shouted. “You’re crazy. How could anybody think I did it?”
“Doctor Winterly was stabbed to death,” said the Phantom. “Look at the blood on your hand and on that knife you always carry. You’ll find the knife down in the cellar. Len here tried to kill me with it and frame you with that murder, too.”
“Oh, yeah,” Luke glared at Barker. “I’m sure now I don’t like this bird at all. Couldn’t you get him to sign a confession or somethin’ and then let me kill him?”
“No!” protested Len. “I won’t do it. I won’t sign anything. Not now.” He glared at the big man. “Don’t let him come near me.”
“They might have believed I did kill the Doc,” said Luke. “But I wouldn’t have done it – ever. Listen, the old boy may have been soft in the brain, but I’d have give my life to save his. He treated me swell. I’m nobody, but he didn’t care about that. He liked me.”
“Yes, I guessed that,” the Phantom said.
“Luke, find some rope, and tie up our prisoner. You and I are taking him back to the city where he’ll be locked up. Then I’m going after the man who used Doctor Winterly as a show case for a gigantic swindle.”
“I could wring his neck a little,” Luke suggested hopefully, gazing at Len Barker. “That’d be as good as tying him. Maybe better.”
“No, we want him to stay healthy, Luke. Healthy, but helpless, so get the rope.”
The big man nodded and left the room in search of a rope.
“I’ll make a deal,” Len said. “I’ll give you Bernie Pennell in return for a break.”
“I don’t dicker,” the Phantom said. “Not with a man who just did his best to kill me and who even stoops to beating up women. You forgot that, didn’t you? And you lied when you said you didn’t know the man behind Pennell. Because that man entered Arthur Arden’s apartment while you were laying your dirty hands on Vicki Selden. You knew he was coming, and you planned to make certain Vicki wouldn’t see this man.”
“You can’t prove any of that stuff,” Len was suddenly defiant. “So I’m not talking.”
His aggressive attitude vanished as Luke stepped back into the room carrying a coil of rope.
“It is too late to try and bluff me now, Len,” the Phantom said. “You’re in so deep that you’re bound to share the same fate as Pennell and the other man.”
Len winced as Luke used the rope to pinion both of the crook’s arms tight to his sides.
“I didn’t kill anybody,” Len said. “I wasn’t going to kill that girl.”
“I think she’d contradict you,” the Phantom said grimly. “And I’d back up her story.” He turned to the big man. “Luke – we’ll go to the neighboring house where there is a phone. Mainly because I’m afraid they injured or killed the man who lives there.”
“I only knocked him out,” Len declared.
“Let’s go,” the Phantom said tartly.
THEY found the neighbor frantically phoning the sheriff, and the Phantom permitted him to finish the call. When Sheriff McCabe arrived the Phantom gave him the details and turned Len Barker over to him instead of taking the thug to New York as he had originally planned. Luke went back to Dr. Winterly’s place to stand guard until McCabe summoned more help.
The Phantom drove back to New York alone. On the way, he studied the events from all angles and carefully planned a trap. It was conditioned upon what he’d find in New York, but the Phantom almost guessed what Steve Huston would tell him.
Upon reaching the city the Phantom returned to his Park Avenue apartment to freshen his disguise and to obtain new clothes to take the place of those ruined by the lake water.
He met Steve by arranging an appointment through Frank Havens, for Huston, as usual, remained in close contact with the publisher. They met on a street corner, just two men who apparently did not know each other casually waiting for a bus.
Steve spoke in a low voice, with never a glance at the Phantom.
“Vicki was gone when I reached her apartment,” Steve said. “Traced her through the cab she used, and went to Club Elite where the taxi driver had taken her. She was still there, with Park Sunderland, the follow who owns that model agency. They were cooing like a couple of turtle doves.”
“Did Sunderland receive or make any phone calls while you had him under observation?”
“He didn’t get any, but he made several. Lots of people stopped at his table to chat.”
“I’ll take over from here,” the Phantom said. “Reach Chip Dorlan, and both of you begin canvassing hotels for a man named Douglas Hoag, a Texas oil man worth plenty. The moment you find him let Mr. Havens know. Then stand by to wind this up.”
“That I’m going to like,” said Steve in a grim voice.
The Phantom knew where the Club Elite was situated. As Richard Curtis Van Loan he’d been there several times. The doorman showed no sign of recognition, since the man who entered the club looked nothing like Van Loan, but when the Phantom stepped into the dining room, he saw Vicki Selden give a start of surprise as she saw him.
She bent toward her companion and whispered. Park Sunderland turned his handsome face toward the advancing Phantom, then arose and offered his hand. He insisted that the Phantom take an empty chair at the table.
“But I don’t understand,” Sunderland said when the two men were seated.
“Vicki says you are the Phantom, and the last time I saw you, I believed you to be a regular city detective.”
“And I,” the Phantom countered, “believed that you and Miss Selden didn’t know one another.”
“We didn’t,” Sunderland admitted. “Hugh Royal, an artist, brought us together. He did some oil magazine covers with Vicki as a model, and thought I might be able to use her also.” Sunderland smiled at the girl. “I’m certain I can. We have just been talking over the terms of a contract.
“Tell me what you know about Hugh Royal,” the Phantom urged.
A look of surprise passed over Sunderland’s face. “Great heavens,” he exclaimed. “You don’t think he’s mixed up in this dirty business? Hugh isn’t wealthy, and hasn’t been what you’d term successful until lately, but he’s honest. At least I’ve never heard of him being dishonest.”