Part 4 (2/2)

Not only had Dunninger taped the door that led to the tower; he had done the same with the back door that Jennifer so frequently used. To make sure that all was intact, Dunninger sent the reporters to examine the doors in question.

Those who went upstairs were to continue down through the kitchen and around through the dining room.

Roger and Wiggam decided to go along, one with each group, but Gustave preferred to remain by the fire and debate the subject of ghosts with Torrance.

While the pair were thus engaged, Dunninger stood before the fire, glancing occasionally from one man to the other.

It was during this interlude that The Shadow tried the front door.

Finding it unlatched, he opened it. Outer blackness seemed to filter through s.p.a.ce too narrow for a human figure to navigate. As softly as it had opened, the door closed behind The Shadow.

Neither Gustave nor Torrance noted the motion of the door, though they were in positions where they could have. As for Dunninger, his back was toward the door, making it impossible for him to observe what happened. Nevertheless, the door had hardly closed before Dunninger turned about.

Whether the investigator possessed some psychic power of his own, or had detected a faint breeze from the door, was a debatable question. The important thing was that Dunninger turned, not in the direction of the door, but towardthe higher portion of the stairway. From there his eye ran down the steps, viewing them through the rails of the banister, s.p.a.ces that received light from a lamp in the little upstairs hall.

Had The Shadow gone up those stairs, Dunninger would have glimpsed the pa.s.sing blackness, thus detecting an unidentified presence without the aid of a mercury bowl. But The Shadow did not ascend the stairs. He stopped at their turn, only a few steps above the ground floor. There, shrouded by thick darkness beyond the range of light, he remained so motionless that he was in effect invisible.

The others were returning, some from the arch beneath the stairs, the others from the dining room. Both reported that the doors were still sealed, but the group that came through the kitchen remarked that Hector had forgotten to wash the dishes. The oversight pleased Dunninger, since it placed everything in the same status as the night when the last manifestations occurred.

”We have three possibilities to consider,” declared Dunninger. ”The first, which I reject, is that paranormal ent.i.ties broke the dishes in the kitchen and threw nails down those stairs.”

As he said ”stairs” Dunninger gestured in the direction mentioned. Not once had his gaze left the upper steps.

”By paranormal ent.i.ties,” inquired Torrance, ”do you mean ghosts?”

”In a sense, yes,” replied Dunninger, ”though the term is hardly apt, since it applies to nonexistent creatures.”

”But those nails!” exclaimed Gustave, suddenly. ”Only a ghost could have tossed them!”

”Only a ghost?”

There wasn't a change in Dunninger's expression as he put the question.

He was standing with his hands behind him, his back to the fire. He didn't budge from his position nor move a muscle, yet at that moment something skimmed down from the ceiling and struck the floor in the center of the room.

Clyde picked up the object. It proved to be a fair-sized bolt. While Gustave stared, Clyde looked inquiringly at Dunninger. Unquestionably the investigator had just demonstrated his ability at duplicating spirit phenomena, but there was no way of explaining how Dunninger had done it.

”Another possibility, and a real one,” continued Dunninger, ”is that persons living in this house are responsible for the supposed phenomena. If they are” - his eyes were still fixed on the stair top, as though he pictured Jennifer and Hector as the persons in question - ”it is quite unlikely that they are guilty of conscious fraud. Sometimes a long residence in a house like this produces a hypnotic effect upon the occupants.”

The Shadow saw Roger glance at Gustave, who winced. There wasn't a doubt that the elder of the two Stanbridge brothers was showing the effects of too long a stay in the weird mansion.

”The final possibility,” concluded Dunninger, ”is equally acceptable. It is simply that certain unknown outsiders have been entering the house in order to play the ghost.”

”But that's impossible!” expressed Roger. ”I'll admit that I believed ituntil this afternoon, but we have thoroughly measured the house for secret pa.s.sages without result. There is no way anyone could enter - except by the front door.”

As Dunninger repeated the phrase, he seemed to nod agreement. The reason was that he was letting his gaze travel down the stairs until it reached the lower turn where darkness still obscured The Shadow. Then: ”The front door would be a good mode of entry,” decided Dunninger, ”but I can a.s.sure you that if anyone did come in that way, he could not yet have reached the second floor, which is also the only way by which he could travel to the kitchen.”

Inasmuch as Dunninger's position blocked off the door to the dining room, the statement held weight. But no one, not even Clyde, suspected that Dunninger was treating the front door question seriously.

Only The Shadow knew.

TO a degree, the situation pleased The Shadow. Dunninger was keeping it static, almost as though he recognized that a hidden presence could represent a fellow investigator using tactics different than his own. All that The Shadow hoped was that something would soon break the deadlock.

Something did.

Down from the second floor came a rattle of unexpected objects. Not nails this time, but stones; small ones, but of various colors and shapes. As they hit, they bounced, making such a racket that there seemed a much greater quant.i.ty than a mere handful.

Nevertheless, a single hand had flung them.

Human or ghostly, that hand betrayed itself to The Shadow. He was located where he could see the top of the stairs, though he himself was invisible. At the first clatter, The Shadow looked up in time to catch a glimpse of the hand as it whipped from sight.

Naturally, The Shadow did not budge from his position, nor did Dunninger.

Everyone else in the great hall was excited, ready to dash for the front stairs. Dunninger raised a hand to restrain them and at the same time glanced toward a shelf at the extreme rear of the hall. On that shelf was the mercury bowl.

The silvery liquid was registering a vibration. It meant that someone more bodily than a ghost was moving in the upper pa.s.sage, the slight jar carrying down through the wall. Then, as the mercury jiggled slightly, Dunninger interpreted its action with the words: ”We shall hear from the kitchen next.”

Hear from the kitchen they did, when the whole table load of dishes perished with a mighty crash. The huge smash was the one thing Dunninger awaited. Though he suspected The Shadow's presence, he knew that it did not account for either of the manifestations. Therefore Dunninger welcomed the presence of the cloaked figure on the stairs.

It meant that The Shadow would have a head start toward trapping the ghost.

So instead of starting for the front stairs, Dunninger waved others in that direction, while he turned to lead the rest around through the dining room.

Dunninger's gesture was as good as a cue. With silent speed, The Shadow started up the front stairs knowing he could reach the top before the others gained the lower landing. Should anyone be coming up the back stairs from the kitchen, The Shadow would certainly be in time to block him.

Unfortunately, The Shadow encountered opposition.

As he reached the stair top, he saw Jennifer coming toward him. To avoid complications, The Shadow wheeled into the little hallway just to the left ofthe stairs. There was a coat rack beside the writing table and Jennifer's cape was hanging on it. Since the little hall was lighted, The Shadow made a quick twist behind the rack.

From that position, The Shadow could still spot anyone who might pa.s.s the little hall. He saw Jennifer come by, to meet the herd that thundered up the front stairs.

”It's Hector's work!” stormed Jennifer. ”I saw him go down the back stairs to the kitchen!”

As she turned to point, Jennifer gave a stare. Hector was coming along the upstairs pa.s.sage from the direction of his own room. Irked by the accusation he was wheezing that he had heard Jennifer leave her own room earlier.

At that moment, Margo stepped from the Green Room, opening its door outward. She was wearing her slippers and dressing gown, but the latter was merely wrapped around her, because in her haste, she had been unable to find the second sleeve.

Swinging the door shut behind her, Margo stared as Jennifer faced the group anew. Forgetting her brief charge against Hector, old Jennifer p.r.o.nounced in sepulchral tone: ”Then it was the ghost! And it must have gone through there!”

Crazily, the old lady pointed to the door past Margo. Despite herself, Margo turned. As she did, a vague white figure loomed from the depths of the Green Room, to lunge at her through the doorway!

As Margo shrieked, The Shadow made a quick swoop from beside the stairs, not to reach Margo, but to stop Gustave, who was arriving with the shotgun.

Catching the weapon by a reach across the man's shoulders, The Shadow diverted it above Margo's head, which wasn't difficult, for Margo, with a backward step, had tripped over her trailing dressing gown and was landing hard upon the floor.

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