Part 5 (2/2)
”Did Callard want the locket for its own value?” quizzed Weston. ”Or did he take it because it was the only thing of value that he had time to steal? It's one thing or the other; either he knew the locket was a rare piece of jewelry or he took the one item that he saw.”
”That question cannot as yet be answered.”
”I didn't think it could be. I knew it would stump you, Cranston. I suppose you would have to see the locket to venture an answer, wouldn't you?”
”Not necessarily, commissioner. I would prefer to see something else that the murderer may have gainedfrom Shurrick.”
”What else could he have taken with the locket?”
”Some object that the locket may have contained.”
WESTON gaped. This time he had been presented with a possibility that he had not even considered.
The contents of the locket! Those who had seen the cameo ornament had remarked upon the fact that it was large and conspicuous.
”You see, commissioner,” observed The Shadow, ”there are many points at issue. Each factor leads to another. Theories conflict - theories that you have not yet considered deeply. Take the murderer himself as an example.
”One moment, you credit him with craft. The next, you imbue him with traits of extreme stupidity.
Because he steals a locket from the body of James Shurrick, you think that his motive is robbery; that he would have taken much of value had he possessed the time.
”Yet he had time to steal anything he wanted at Ralgood's; the place, however, was not rifled. Again, he murders ruthlessly; then spares a man's life tonight. He seeks to overpower a victim because shots will spread an alarm; he follows that by trussing up another man after the alarm has already been given.
”According to Dolver, this killer was too slow to get out of sight upon the fire tower, prior to his crime.
Yet when his get-away was limited to the minimum allowance, he tied up Dolver in rapid order and made an amazing getaway twelve stories down the fire tower before your police closed in upon him.
”I cite these facts, commissioner, to impress you with a point that you have not considered. You are dealing with these crimes from the wrong angle. You are accepting what appears to be the obvious. That is a mistake.”
The level tones were impressive. Yet they made Weston boil. The commissioner came to his feet, his face red with anger. Then he delivered a challenging demand.
”I am going to ask you some direct questions, Cranston,” barked Weston. ”Will you answer them yes or no - with none of these twisting changes that lead nowhere?”
”Certainly,” returned The Shadow, calmly. ”Except in those cases where I can give no answer.”
”All right. First of all, we have the goods on Dave Callard. He ducked Cardona and Markham at the dock. He lied to Mallikan about the s.h.i.+p that brought him here. Callard said he came in on the Zoroaster.
We know that he was aboard the Tamalpais. We know also that he intended to go to Ralgood's immediately upon his arrival. His letter from China, the one we found at Ralgood's, was proof of it.”
WESTON paused; he had forgotten his questions temporarily. Since he was hearing no objections, he continued with his present subject.
”Dave Callard could have murdered both Ralgood and Ba.s.slett. He could have taken Ralgood's revolver. We know that the old gun was used to kill Shurrick. Dolver's description of the murderer tallies with that of Callard. We know also that Shurrick's locket was stolen; that Callard had the knowledge and ability to truss up Dolver as we found him.”
Another pause. Weston remembered his questions. He put the first one: ”Do you believe that Callard is still in New York?” ”Yes.”
”Do you believe that we shall eventually find him?”
”Yes.”
Weston smiled. The definite answers seemed to please him. He started to ask a question; then checked himself. When he spoke, he did so carefully.
”I was going to ask your opinion about Callard as the murderer,” said the commissioner, with a note of sarcasm. ”But in your present mood, Cranston, you would probably start a roundabout argument by doubting Callard's guilt on the ground that the evidence against him is somewhat circ.u.mstantial.
”So to avoid such argument, I shall speak impersonally. We will refer merely to the murderer. You say these cases are complicated. Very well, do you think that one man murdered all three victims: Ralgood, Ba.s.slett and Shurrick?”
Weston paused, waiting impatiently for the answer. The Shadow spoke deliberately.
”Yes,” he replied, his tone one of conviction. ”I believe that a single murderer was responsible.”
”And that he trussed up Dolver?” questioned the commissioner, quickly. ”After he killed Shurrick?”
”Yes,” returned The Shadow. ”The murderer was responsible for Dolver's bonds as well as for the deaths.”
”Do you believe he had accomplices to aid him?”
”No. He needed no accomplices.”
”Very good,” chuckled Weston. ”Well, Cranston, we agree on some points at least. Particularly the last one. Without your advice” - there was a tinge of sarcasm in the commissioner's tone - ”I have ordered the release of the witnesses. The clerk and the elevator man are going back on duty. I have stationed officers at the apartment house, to watch the screen of crime.
”Timothy Lattan and Courtney Dolver are back in their own apartments; of course I have placed men on the twelfth floor for tonight. Lattan intends to remain in the apartment house; Dolver is going out to his Long Island residence tomorrow. Meanwhile we shall continue our search for Dave Callard.”
THE SHADOW was rising with Weston. Together, they walked from the grillroom, up to the lobby, where they shook hands at the door. It was then that The Shadow put a quiet statement; one that made the commissioner start.
”You did not ask me,” observed The Shadow, ”where crime is next due to strike.”
”You mean,” gasped Weston, ”that Callard will be bold enough to come out of cover?”
”I do,” replied The Shadow. ”I also believe that a new murder may be attempted!”
”What is your basis for such a theory?”
”There may be more men at large who knew Milton Callard. Men who might prove to be important factors in the matter of his missing millions.”
”You think that is the issue at stake?” ”It is the issue!”
Weston spluttered. The thought of further tragedy appalled him. While the commissioner stood in his dumfoundment, The Shadow nodded good night and strolled leisurely toward a limousine that had pulled up from across the street. The waiting chauffeur had recognized the figure of Lamont Cranston.
”Home, Stanley,” ordered The Shadow.
As the tail-light swung the near corner, Weston uttered a half contemptuous snort; then chewed his lips as he walked off in the opposite direction. Despite his bravado, the commissioner was troubled.
Not alone by the statements from the lips of his friend Lamont Cranston. After that had come a sound that had made the commissioner wonder. It had reached his ears as the whispered echo of a trailing laugh.
Another man might have believed himself the victim of delusion. Not so with Commissioner Ralph Weston. For he had vague recollections of having heard that laugh before. The laugh of The Shadow.
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