THIRTY minutes later, the same group arrived at Seth Brophy’s secluded house. The four alighted from the commissioner’s car and found the door of the residence locked. Cardona went around to a side door, broke in and admitted the others through the front.
They found the place deserted. It was obvious that Brophy must have packed up for a trip. A search of the house brought them to the laboratory. Here, Sundler made a thorough inspection. He shook his head.
“There is no evidence here, commissioner,” he stated. “If there were any parts of a Q-ray machine, I would recognize them.”
“Brophy could have removed them.”
“That is true. But to remove them, he would first have had to obtain them. That would have been impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because all the experiments were conducted in our laboratories. Certain materials could be supplied only by us. We have kept strict watch on the removal of any parts of machinery.”
“Then Brophy could not have constructed a machine of his own?”
“I am positive that he could not have done so.”
Weston paced about the deserted laboratory. He seemed to be coming to some decision. Finally he gave it.
“Sundler,” stated the commissioner, “the only answer is that someone managed to remove and return the Q-ray machine that is in your own laboratory. I intend to make a complete investigation there.”
“Very well, commissioner.”
“And in the meantime, I shall place a guard over that Q-ray machine.”
“We can do better than that if you wish. We can dismantle it and destroy the vital parts.”
“But you have spent a great deal of money on the Q-ray.”
“Certainly we have. But the money has been wasted. We have given up further experiments. The Q-ray is a menace — a scientific monstrosity! I am ready to advise its sacrifice.”
“I appreciate your attitude, Sundler. That course will absolutely forestall further crime. Come; let us leave here.”
During the return trip to the Universal Electric laboratories, Weston and Sundler reached an agreement.
The new theory concerning the Club Cadiz murders was to be kept from the press, in return for the dismantling of the Q-ray machine. Should it be proven that someone at the laboratories was criminally responsible for the deaths, a statement could then be made. But, in the meantime, silence was to be preserved.
Lamont Cranston did not return to the Universal Electric Company. The commissioner’s car dropped him at the Cobalt Club. Weston and Cardona alone returned with Sundler, anxious to see that the menace of the Q-ray machine would be ended.
Dusk arrived. Seth Brophy’s deserted house seemed gloomy in the fading light. For a while, all was still about the shrouded building. Then a motion occurred beside the side door.
A blackened shape had arrived there. The Shadow was working on the door that Joe Cardona had broken open. The detective had barricaded it before leaving; but it required only a few minutes for The Shadow to effect a new entry.
Soon afterward, a tiny light glimmered in Brophy’s laboratory. The searching beam shone upon one definite spot. That was the top of the bookcase. Keen eyes spied the edge of the shoe box that Brophy had replaced there. The Shadow, as Cranston, had noted a corner of that object, but had said nothing.
A gloved hand plucked the shoe box from its place. A grim laugh whispered in the laboratory as The Shadow removed the lid and discovered a white guinea pig inside. This was the answer to the riddle.
Proof to The Shadow that Seth Brophy had conducted experiments of his own.
The light shone about the room. It showed the tiled wall. Approaching, The Shadow stared keenly. He noticed a slight chip in the edge of a single tile. His fingers loosened the piece from the wall. The flashlight showed the hidden switch.
The secret panel opened when The Shadow pressed the switch. The rays of the light shone upon the scene within. Seth Brophy’s body huddled on the floor; his outstretched hand almost touching another dead object — the brown guinea pig.
FIVE minutes later, The Shadow’s unseen form was swishing down the stairway of the Brophy house.
The master investigator had left the little laboratory as he had found it, with Brophy’s body still concealed in its secret tomb.
The Shadow had gained the final proof he wanted. He knew the source of the Q-ray machine that had delivered death at the Club Cadiz. His problem was to uncover its present owner. He had played the part of Lamont Cranston only to gain the beginning of a trail; to learn what James Sundler would have told only to the police commissioner — namely, who had been responsible for the creation of the death machine.
Commissioner Ralph Weston intended to keep facts from the press; to let the police remain in ignorance of what had caused the deaths at the Club Cadiz. Weston felt justified, since he had taken measures to eliminate what he believed was the only Q-ray machine in existence.
Similarly, The Shadow had decided to let the police commissioner remain in the dark. He, too, was justified. He had followed clues that Weston and Cardona had failed to see. The Shadow, like the law, intended to move unhampered.
With the final facts established, The Shadow was prepared to seek the next meeting between men of crime. His laugh, delivered outside the dreary walls of the old house, was proof that his next trail would not fail.
CHAPTER XVII. THE SCHEMER RESUMES
FOUR days had passed since The Shadow’s discovery of Seth Brophy’s body. Two men of crime were still missing: Cuyler Willington and Gyp Tangoli. The furor aroused by the murders in the Club Cadiz had died away.
The police had gained no inkling of Cuyler Willington’s part in murder. Oddly, however, they were searching for the man whom Willington sought. The law was after Gyp Tangoli for a matter other than the slaughter at the Club Cadiz.
The fight at the Delphin Apartments had been laid on Gyp Tangoli. It was believed that Gyp, as the tenant of Apartment 3 G, had been responsible for the deaths of Skeeter Wigan and an unidentified Hindu.
The report of the trouble at Gyp Tangoli’s had been but a small item in the daily newspapers. But along the grapevine telegraph of the underworld, it was an important subject. The underworld knew that the bulls were after Gyp Tangoli. The underworld knew also that Gyp had disappeared.
No one had reported Gyp as having been at the Club Cadiz on the night of slaughter. In fact, the dead bodies in his apartment had served him as an alibi; for the fight there had taken place just before the massacre at the Club Cadiz.
As for Cuyler Willington, his position was perfect so far as the law was concerned. Moving in select circles, this crook felt no fear of implication in the Club Cadiz outrage. He was keeping out of sight on account of Gyp Tangoli.
This was the fourth evening since The Shadow’s investigation at Brophy’s house. The night was drizzly.
City traffic was hampered by the mean weather. Taxis were few along Sixth Avenue. The drivers preferred thoroughfares where there was no chance of skidding into elevated posts.
One cab, however, was sloshing directly along the avenue, close to the curb. It came almost to a stop; then moved on a dozen yards and halted. Peering through the rain, the driver spied a number over an old battered door. He announced to his passenger that they had reached the destination.
The man who alighted was wearing a raincoat, with the collar turned up about his face. He paid the driver; when the cab pulled away, he went up the steps to the battered door and rang the bell.
The door opened. A stooped figure met the visitor. The two men went up a flight of darkened stairs and entered a room that was lighted by a single gas jet.
The visitor doffed his hat and coat. His pallid features were revealed in the light. This man who had come to the old house on Sixth Avenue was Cuyler Willington.