"After Mrs. Martha Birch discovered the body of Grant Chadwick, at eight o'clock this morning, we questioned her and learned that she was presumably the last person who had seen Grant Chadwick alive.
"The old man was murdered sometime between five-thirty Saturday night and eight o'clock this morning — Monday morning. The physician's report states that Grant Chadwick was probably dead for twenty-four hours before his body was found.
"Mrs. Birch reports latching the door on her departure Saturday, and unlocking it upon her arrival this morning. We have found no traces of forcible entry.
"Eliminating the slim possibility of suicide, we quizzed Mrs. Birch, and found her to be a most useful informant. The only person who ever visited Grant Chadwick was his nephew — this gentleman here.
"A month ago, Denby Chadwick was living with his uncle. According to Mrs. Birch, a disagreement ended that arrangement. Denby Chadwick has been back only occasionally since then. He has a pass key to the house. Here it is."
Davidson displayed the key, which had evidently been given to him by Denby Chadwick.
"I located Denby Chadwick in his Philadelphia office," continued Davidson, in his methodical manner. "That was at half past ten. He came here with me.
"Due to the fact that he had access to the house; that he had quarreled with his uncle; that he admitted ownership to a pair of gloves which were found on a downstairs table, I was naturally anxious to learn of all his activities between Saturday afternoon and this morning.
"That fact seems to have made an impression upon you newspapermen. While Denby Chadwick and I have been conferring here, you have been busy."
Davidson picked up a newspaper from the desk. It was an edition of a Philadelphia journal which bore the screaming headline:
Denby Chadwick Grilled In Uncle's Murder
"This has just arrived here," declared the detective. "In the meantime, Denby Chadwick has been phoning many sources. Half an hour ago, the last of his witnesses arrived. These people have testified in his behalf.
"I can now state, positively, that Denby Chadwick knew nothing of his uncle's death. I have the sworn affidavits of the testifiers. You may interview these people in turn; afterward, you may read their statements.
"Now that we have learned the facts, I feel that everything possible should be done to clear young Chadwick of any implied suspicion that may rest upon him."
The detective pointed to a middle-aged man who stood at the side of the room. The individual cleared his throat and spoke to the reporters.
"My name is Charles Washburn," he said. "Office in the Elite Building, Philadelphia.
Washburn Finance Co. Denby Chadwick was in my office until five o'clock Saturday afternoon.
My stenographer, Miss Daisy Whitman, was present."
"That is correct," acknowledged a young woman who was seated in a chair by the desk.
"We left the office," resumed Washburn, "and were joined by James Newmann, whose office is also in the Elite Building. We rode in my car and took Denby Chadwick to the station.
"We were both with him while he purchased a ticket for Havre de Grace, Maryland. We were with him when he boarded the five-thirty local."
"That is correct," came another statement. This speaker was a man who stood beside Washburn evidently James Newmann.
"Next," declared Davidson.
A stoop-shouldered, gray-haired man followed.
"Harold Clinch," he said. "Conductor on Train 37 — local leaving Philadelphia at five-thirty p.m. for Havre de Grace. Denby Chadwick rides my train every Saturday afternoon.
"I collected his ticket last Saturday, going out of Philadelphia station. I saw him playing cards in the smoker, afterward. Helped him off with his bag, and said good night when we reached Havre de Grace at seven-fifty."
Davidson nodded to another man, a young fellow attired in a sheepskin coat.
"Stephen Biggs is my name," said the young man. "I'm a lineman with the telephone company. Got on the train at Wilmington, last Saturday. Was playing cards with a couple of fellows, and this man joined us."
"He was with us when we got to Havre de Grace. We were talking, you know, and I happened to mention where I lived. That's how they got me up here today — "
"All right," interrupted the detective briskly. "That's enough, Biggs. We also have a statement from Elbert Brown" — he indicated a bespectacled man — "who is a regular rider on that train. He knows Denby Chadwick by sight, and got off the train with him, Saturday evening.
Now, Mr. Turner." THE final testifier was a lanky man, who spoke with a slight Southern drawl.
He was standing with hat in one hand as he addressed the reporters.
"All I've had to say," he stated, "is that Denby Chadwick is a fine young fellow, and that I'm glad I've been able to settle this matter.
"Ezra Turner is my name — I run a farm down near Havre de Grace, over across the Susquehanna, and Denby here has been coming down to my place regular every week-end. I come over to the station in my car to meet him. That's what I did last Saturday night.
"We was sitting up all night playing poker — him and me and these two fellows here, Jim Blotz and Greg Stephens, who comes down from Carlisle. The whole lot of us was sleeping most of Sunday, except at dinner time, when the women folks woke us up.
"We had another poker session last night — we take the game kind of serious down Maryland way. We didn't quit until five o'clock this morning, and I had to rouse Denby up at eight, so as to drive up to Philadelphia. All of us were coming up this way — except the women folks.
"When Denby got a hold of me, I called them by long-distance and told them to jump up here in a hurry. They've all vouched for it that Denby Chadwick didn't step out of that old farmhouse of mine between the time he got there and eight o'clock this morning.
"He was sitting up most of the time — that's why he looks tired out, with all this grief about his poor uncle coming on top of it — "
Two women were nodding their agreement with the speaker. The reporters were looking at the affidavits. Davidson began to dismiss the gathering, hesitating just long enough to answer a reporter's query about young Chadwick.
"Yes, I suspected Denby Chadwick, until I got the facts," Davidson said. "I'm suspecting anybody that comes along in this case. But these testimonies give this young man a perfect alibi, and that's putting him with us in the work we're doing in this case.
"He's just as anxious as I am to find out who murdered his uncle. We are working on a process of elimination, and we aren't passing up a single clue!"
The visitors filed out of the detective's room, and the reporters made hurried notes in order to catch the late editions of the evening newspapers.
The statements of the persons who had testified were sent in full detail. The fact that Denby Chadwick was entirely cleared of all suspicion in his uncle's death was food for screaming headlines. THE next morning, Harry Vincent opened a letter in his room at the Burnham House in Baltimore. He was seated at the writing table, where a copy of a Baltimore newspaper was lying. Harry had been reading of the Chadwick murder. His eyes opened in surprise when he noted that the letter referred to the same matter.
The written letter was in code, inscribed in bright blue ink. The jumbled characters were no puzzle to Harry Vincent. He knew that code by heart. Translated, the letter read: Go to Philadelphia. Take Bruxton with you. Have work for him.
Check all details in the murder of Grant Chadwick. Observe all actions of his nephew, Denby Chadwick. Report regularly, in detail.
The written characters began to fade while Harry still held the letter in his hand. That was a peculiarity of all The Shadow's orders. They were written with a secret ink, which disappeared shortly after it had come in open contact with the air.