Captain Mahoney straightened and whistled.
“Call back the dog, Zoom. There’s a forty-five automatic on the ground here. There may be finger-prints on it. I want to preserve them.”
Zoom snapped a swift command.
The dog dropped flat on his belly, muzzle on forepaws.
Captain Mahoney took a bit of string from his pocket. He lowered it until he had it slung under the barrel of the automatic, then he tied a knot and raised the gun.
Zoom muttered his approval.
For there were finger-prints upon the weapon, prints that showed unmistakable ridges and whorls. Those finger-prints might have been developed by an expert, so plain were they.
“A man’s fingers,” said Captain Mahoney.
Zoom nodded.
“Now, captain, if you don’t mind, we’ll return to the house where Raine lived and see if we can identify the gun. As a favor to me, I wish you’d tell no one where this gun was found until I give you permission.”
Captain Mahoney sighed.
“Zoom, I’m going to give you a free hand, for a little while.”
“Come then,” said Zoom.
And they returned to the house as rapidly as they had made the trip from it, presenting a strange pair, the tall man with the hawklike eyes, the shorter officer, carrying a gun dangling on a string, careful lest the finger-prints should be obliterated.
Sam Mokley, the butler, let them into the house.
Zoom ordered him to summon the lawyer and the cook.
They gathered in the living room, a restless group of men, very evidently under a great nervous strain.
“Ah Kim,” snapped Zoom, “is that Mr. Raine’s gun?”
The Chinese let his eyes slither to the gun, then to Zoom’s face, then about the room.
“Same gun,” he said.
“Beg your pardon, sir,” interposed the butler, “hut it’s not the gun. Mr. Raine’s gun had a little speck of rust on the barrel, just under the safety catch.”
Zoom’s grin was sardonic.
“Oh,” he said, “I thought you described Raine’s gun as being a thirty-eight revolver, not a forty-five automatic.”
The butler’s wooden face was as a mask.
“Yes, sir,” he said.
Captain Mahoney regarded the man curiously.
“Anything further to say, Mokley?”
“No, sir.”
Zoom nodded, slowly.
“No,” he said, “he wouldn’t.”
Captain Mahoney’s eyes were thoughtful.
“We’ve got to have proof, you know, Zoom. We may satisfy ourselves of something, but we’ve got to get enough evidence to satisfy a jury before we can do anything.”
Chapter VIII
The Killer Shoots Again
Zoom started to talk. His voice was crisp, metallic.
“Let’s look at the weak points in the case they’ve built up against the girl, look at the clews and see what must have happened.
“Raine had the gems here. He heard a noise, found the gems gone — stolen.
“Something made him sufficiently positive to start out after the girl. That something must have been some tangible evidence. Let’s suppose, as a starting point, it was the finding of part of a broken necklace with some synthetic rubies strewn over the floor.
“Naturally, he scooped up some of those rubies, to be used in confronting the girl. He started after her. He was walking toward the wind. It was rainy. He got wet. That didn’t deter him. As I see his character, Raine was a very determined man.
“But, before he reached the apartment where the girl lived something caused him to turn back. What was that something? We can be fairly sure he didn’t get to the apartment. Otherwise he’d have raised a commotion. He was that sort. And he was facing in the other direction when he was shot from behind, with his own gun.
“Now what would have caused him to turn back? What would have caused him to surrender his gun? Certainly some one in whose advice he must have had implicit faith overtook him and convinced him that he was going off on a wrong track, that he should return and summon the police.
“Then, when that person had secured possession of the gun, he waited for a clap of thunder from the passing shower, shot Raine in the back of the head.
“That person had picked up more of the scattered rubies. He used them to leave a trail to the front door of the apartment house where the girl lived. Those rubies weren’t spaced the way they would have been had they come off a necklace. They’d have hit the sidewalk in a bunch and scattered. They were spaced just as they would have been had some one dropped them with the deliberate intent of causing the police to go to that apartment house.
“Now the only person I can think of who would have been able to dissuade Mr. Raine, cause him to surrender his gun, turn him back, is...”
And Sidney Zoom stared at the lawyer.
That individual laughed.
“Very cleverly done, Zoom, but not worth a damn. Your theory is very pretty, but how are you going to prove the necklace was broken here in this room? You got down on your hands and knees when you first came in here. You were looking for some of the rubies. You were disappointed. Your interest in the girl has led you to concoct a very pretty theory. It won’t hold water — before a jury.”
Zoom turned to the Chinese.
“Bring me the vacuum sweeper, Ah Kim,” he said.
The servant glided from the room on noiseless feet.
The butler exchanged glances with the lawyer. The attorney cleared his throat, then was silent again.
The Chinese returned with the vacuum sweeper. Sidney Zoom opened it, took from the interior the bag where the sweepings reposed. He opened that bag, spilled the dust upon the floor.
Instantly it became apparent that that dust contained several of the rubies. They glowed redly in the light which came through the massive windows.
“Yes,” said Zoom, “I looked for the rubies here. When I couldn’t find them I knew I was dealing with an intelligent criminal. But I did find that a vacuum sweeper had been run over the floor very recently.”
The butler looked at the lawyer, wet his lips. The lawyer frowned meditatively.
“That, of course,” he said, “is rather strong evidence you’ve uncovered there, Zoom. Ah Kim would have profited by the death. He has acted suspiciously several times. There’s a chance you may be right.”
Zoom’s smile was frosty.
“Ah Kim couldn’t have dissuaded Harry Raine from going on to the girl’s apartment,” he said, slowly, impressively. “And I don’t think it will be Ah Kim’s fingers that’ll fit the prints on that gun.”
The attorney regarded the gun more intently than ever.
“Ah, yes,” he said, “the finger-prints on the gun. Well, it’s certain they’re not mine, and I wouldn’t have profited by the death of my client. I have lost by it. He kept me in a law practice.”
The butler squirmed.
“Meaning that you’re directing suspicion at me?” he asked.
The attorney shrugged his shoulders.
“The finger-prints,” he said, “will speak for themselves.”
Sam Mokley regarded the attorney speculatively.
“Well,” said Captain Mahoney, “we’ll take the finger-prints of the men here, and—”
“Perhaps,” suggested Zoom, “we can also look over the clothes closers of the men. We might find evidence that one of them was out in the rain last night. And it’s peculiar that the bed of Harry Raine shows no evidence of having been slept in. Every one agrees he jumped out of bed to pursue the burglar.
“I wouldn’t doubt if there were clean sheets put on the bed, and the bed made up fresh because the old sheets and pillowcase might have shown that he kept a gun under his pillow.”
The attorney spoke, slowly, in measured tones.