“Because he was revealing Double Z’s identity.”
“You believe Double Z told him that?”
“Hm-m-m,” said Mann. He was staring straight ahead at the back of the driver, almost oblivious to the man beside him. “That doesn’t sound logical, does it? I should think Double Z would have given Caulkins wrong information, and then let him go through with it—”
“Why did Caulkins mention Judge Harvey Tolland before he spoke of Double Z?” came the questioning whisper.
“I don’t know,” admitted Mann.
“Could he have considered Tolland of greater importance at the moment?”
A gasp of sudden understanding came from Mann. His methodical mind was beginning to grasp the situation. He saw a new light, but even yet he was still confused.
“Let us presume,” came the voice, “that Double Z knew nothing whatever of Joel Caulkins.”
“Then why did Caulkins go there?”
“To find out something regarding Judge Tolland.”
“Ah!” exclaimed Mann. “But why was Double Z there?”
“For the same reason as Caulkins. Judge Tolland is the missing connection between the two.”
Rutledge Mann was nodding, but his brain was in a turmoil. He could not figure the connection; but he realized that new depths of the mystery were being probed.
He heard a soft laugh from the darkness. It was a mirthless laugh that brought a shudder, even though Mann knew that his weird companion was his friend.
“You have not seen the scene of the crime,” came the whispered comment, “but I have. I went there, assuming that Caulkins had been killed on the spur of the moment, and not through premeditation on the part of his murderer. I found evidence to prove that point.”
“Double Z did not go there to kill?”
“Double Z did go there to kill,” contradicted the voice, “but his intended victim was not Joel Caulkins. He was after Judge Harvey Tolland. Let us picture the situation.
“Judge Tolland was living in that old house under the name of Joseph T. Dodd. The name card in the vestibule is warped and grimy. It shows traces of having been there many months.
“The thin carpet in the upstairs room is worn in spots. One place is before the mirror. A man must have stood there often, studying his own reflection, considering his disguise, and trying to practice new facial expressions.
“Caulkins went there and discovered Tolland. It is obvious that the judge decided to tell the reporter his story. So Caulkins called his city editor. First, he mentioned Tolland, but quickly turned to the important information— the identity of Double Z. He could have learned it from only one source — from Judge Tolland. Therefore, it is safe to suppose that Tolland had given Caulkins proof — for instance, a threat from Double Z.”
“The paper in the reporter’s hand!” exclaimed Mann.
“Exactly,” confirmed the soft whisper. “Tolland was expecting danger from Double Z. While Caulkins was phoning, Tolland was beside him. The position of the chair and the telephone — at one side of the table-indicates that. Picture the situation. Then realize that at the crucial moment, Double Z entered the room!”
“I see it now!” exclaimed Mann.
“Four shots,” went on the voice. “Four well-aimed shots, that accomplished two purposes: First, the death of Caulkins, before he could complete his statement. Second, the death of Judge Tolland, which Double Z had sought.”
“But there were four bullets in the body of Caulkins—”
“Certainly. Two were fired after the telephone was hung up by the murderer. Two shots to make it look as if a bungler had done the work. There is one of Cardona’s fallacies. Two shots were perfectly placed; two were wide. A man may be a good shot or a bad one — he is never both. Double Z would not have attempted murder himself without being sure of his own ability.”
“But only one body was found in the room,” objected Mann.
“The body of Judge Tolland was removed. The evidence of his death and his removal were both obvious. A tiny bloodstain on the carpet— away from the spot where Caulkins lay. Then, more spots on the stairway. Places where shoulders had rubbed against the wall. It took two men to remove the body.”
“There was some one besides Double Z?”
“Yes. Double Z entered by picking the locks. There were tiny marks to prove it. He left his companion in the vestibule. The man was smoking. There are cigarette butts in the corner, and traces of ashes.
“Double Z went upstairs, opened the door of Tolland’s room, and committed the double murder. He went down and summoned his man. They carried out Tolland’s body, as the stair and wall marks show.
“To confuse the police, Double Z fired two shots; then he took his own message which Tolland had received, and left it with Caulkins. I have seen that message. Both the paper and the ink show that it was written some time ago.
“As I said before, Caulkins would not have kept it under cover. Cardona has simply added it to the other correspondence received from Double Z, without questioning its age.”
RUTLEDGE MANN was silent as the cab rolled on. Then, again came the voice beside him.
“We know now,” were its words, “that Double Z has been active for more than one year. He is a shrewd schemer. His activities are designed to create terror. They must have kept Tolland in constant fear.
“Double Z is not simply an eccentric individual. He is a bold murderer; a good shot with an automatic; a man who has accomplices. He is also a man of strength, who, with one other, can quickly remove a body. He knows what is going on in the underworld, and he’s a master of subtle murder, as the death of Philip Farmington shows.
“Yet so far, I have no exact clew to his identity. My plan is to search at every possible angle. You will play a passive part, directing the movements of my agents at my order. I have talked with you tonight, to learn your reactions to my findings. Are they clear?”
“They are,” declared Mann.
“In this envelope” — a packet was thrust in Mann’s hands — “you will find instructions regarding my agents, and also facts pertaining to the death of Philip Farmington. Follow all the details and make complete reports. You will receive new orders from me. But do not expect to meet me again for a long while.
“Remember. I am — The Shadow!”
The revelation of the stranger’s identity brought weird thoughts to Mann’s mind. He had heard of The Shadow, the mysterious man of the night. He had half suspected his employer’s identity; but the actual statement brought a sense of realism that he had not experienced before.
The cab had come out of the park; it was whirling along a side street. The lights of an avenue were ahead. Mann heard a shrill hiss from the dark figure beside him. Before he could look toward The Shadow, the cab swerved suddenly and one wheel climbed the curb.
Mann clutched the strap that hung beside the window. The cab had stopped, and the driver was expostulating with a man at the wheel of a car alongside. A policeman arrived at that moment.
“All right,” Mann heard the officer say to the driver of his cab. “Pull along. Wait. You’ve got a passenger? Better see if he’s all right.”
The door was swung open; the inside of the cab showed clear beneath the glare of a street lamp. Mann, in answer to the policeman’s question, said he was unhurt. And then, before the door closed, gasped in astonishment. Dazed, eyes bulging from their sockets, he sat still as the cab rolled on toward his apartment.
For the light that had entered the cab had shown no other occupant. Rutledge Mann was alone!
Somehow, in the space of a few short seconds, the mysterious figure beside him had left the cab.
Invisibly, The Shadow had vanished into the night!