HALF Up from his chair, Nethro pointed an accusing finger at Dreblin. The magnate, rising, spluttered with indignation.
“You — you rogue!” uttered Dreblin. “I thought this might be coming. But your story won’t hold, Nethro! You can’t shift your dirty work to me!”
“Looks like a couple of phonies,” put in Cardona to The Shadow. Then, swinging, from one man to the other, the detective flourished his revolver and forced them back into their chairs. “The two of you were working together when you grabbed this fellow” — he indicated Harry Vincent — “and you were still teamed when you snagged me.”
“One moment, Cardona,” interposed The Shadow, calmly. “We shall allow each man an opportunity to speak in turn. But before we do so, permit me to mention a few more facts.
“I learned recently that Philo Dreblin was a competitor to Hiram Caffley. So I strolled around here last night, intending to call on him.”
“Beat me to it by twenty-four hours,” remarked Joe. “Smart work, Mr. Cranston.”
Harry Vincent smiled slightly. He knew that a faked story was coming for Cardona’s benefit. Harry had learned that his mysterious chief frequently used the disguise of Lamont Cranston. Harry knew that he was in the presence of The Shadow.
“I saw a man in a gray overcoat coming from a side door,” resumed The Shadow, with a thin smile fixed upon his disguised lips. “So I came back tonight and saw the fellow enter. I had given up thought of visiting Dreblin. But I decided it might be wise to enter the door that the man in gray had taken.
“I found a passage that led to the back of the bookcase. Hearing voices, I entered; that is how I happened to rescue you and this man.” The Shadow indicated Harry. “But in the meantime, Cardona, I had taken another measure.”
“What was that?” questioned Joe, in surprise.
“After the murder of Jeremy Lentz,” recalled The Shadow, “you discharged a suspect named George Garsher. The man was a cigar salesman. After the murder of Howard Morath, you discharged another possible suspect. I refer to Albert Sycher, the elevator operator at the Belgaria Apartments.”
“There was nothing on either of them,” put in Cardona. “I was holding both of them when Newell Frieth was bumped. That gave them alibis.”
“It did not clear them of suspicion as accomplices.”
“We were dealing with a lone hand, Mr. Cranston. The evidence pointed to that—”
“The evidence was planted.”
“That’s right. I was beginning to forget.”
The Shadow retained his thin smile.
“Garsher’s story,” he stated, “offered no loopholes. The man said he found Lentz’s body after the murder. The killer could have done the job, planted the false evidence and made an easy departure from the office building.”
“Sycher’s story, however, was one that might well be questioned. Apparently he found Morath’s body before Mrs. Ditting, because the woman stated that she heard the doors of the elevator slam shut.”
“That’s right, Mr. Cranston. She did.”
“After that, Mrs. Ditting saw the body. She went back into her apartment and called Tukel at the desk.”
“That’s right.”
“Where was Sycher all the while?”
“Coming down in the elevator.”
“So he stated. But he had started down before Mrs. Ditting even reached the hall. He should have reached the lobby before the woman called the desk. Particularly because Mrs. Ditting admitted she was confused and did not call the desk at once.”
“Say, Mr. Cranston, you’ve hit a bull’s-eye again! Sycher didn’t show up from the elevator until after Tukel had got the alarm and started to go after the janitor! There’s something phony about Sycher. Where was he?”
“He had taken the car to the basement,” stated The Shadow, carefully. “From there, he came back up to the lobby. That produced the delay.”
Cardona snapped his fingers.
“Sycher was in on it!” exclaimed the sleuth. “He could have planted that cheroot and the heel print on the fire tower! He was the guy who turned over the spectacle case to Tukel, like he had found it in the elevator. Say — he could have taken the murderer down to the basement and let him out. Wait until I call headquarters. I’ll have them grab that mug.”
“Unnecessary, Cardona,” smiled The Shadow. “I thought it would be wise to have Sycher here. So I called upon some friends to persuade him to leave his job and come over. I might have called in Garsher also; lacking definite proof against him, I decided not to bring the cigar salesman into the present discussion.”
THE SHADOW arose behind the desk. He surveyed Kip Nethro and Philo Dreblin.
“Sycher will be here,” assured The Shadow. “While we await his arrival, I know that Inspector Cardona would be pleased to hear your statements.”
Cardona smiled, pleased at the title of “inspector”; he was elated, also, as he realized this new cleverness on the part of Lamont Cranston. If either Nethro or Dreblin had any connection with Sycher, there would be no use in a holding back of facts.
“Suppose, Nethro,” resumed The Shadow, “that you speak first. We know that you were the man in gray. Your own account of your actions on the afternoon of the murders would be most welcome.”
“I’ll talk!” barked back Nethro, “You bet I’ll talk!” The investigator glared at Dreblin. “Powlden was framed and so was I! This man” — Nethro pointed at Dreblin — “is the murderer you’re after. He wanted somebody to be seen around those places; somebody who would pass for Powlden. That’s why he sent me.
“You bet I’ll talk! When I’ve finished you’ll know a lot more than you do now. When this fellow Sycher shows up, you’ll have the whole thing clinched!”
Nethro settled back in his chair. His outburst finished, he calmed. Staring straight at the chiseled countenance of Lamont Cranston, the investigator began his testimony under the steady gaze of The Shadow.
CHAPTER XVI
STRONG ALIBIS
“THIS mess starts with the Duro Metal proposition,” declared Nethro. “That alloy meant a lot to Mr. Dreblin here. If anybody else had got control of it, calthite would have been sunk. So Mr. Dreblin was out to buy it.”
“So was Hiram Caffley,” remarked Dreblin in his bass rumble. “He needed Duro Metal to protect ferroluminum.”
“Let’s hear Nethro talk,” growled Cardona. “You’ll get a chance later, Dreblin.”
Nethro looked toward The Shadow, who nodded in leisurely fashion. The investigator resumed.
“Two million bucks was the price tag on Duro Metal,” declared Nethro. “Pretty steep for Mr. Dreblin here. He’d rather have stuck with calthite. He wanted to bring down the price before he bought it. That’s what he told me.”
“I spoke the truth,” rasped Dreblin. “I was satisfied with calthite — just as much as Caffley was with ferroluminum. But Caffley could raise two million—”
“Hold it,” ordered Cardona.
Dreblin silenced. And Nethro spoke again.
“I’ll make it brief,” he said. “Mr. Dreblin wanted me to sound out that tribe. I told him that I’d go see the three of them. Lentz first, the next afternoon just before five o’clock. After that, Morath; then Frieth.
“I saw Lentz. He was polite enough. I smoked one of his cigarettes, sitting across the table from him. But I didn’t get anywhere when I said I represented a syndicate that wanted to buy Duro Metal. He said it was out of his hands.
“I went to Morath next. Didn’t get to first base with the lawyer. I was there about five-thirty; Morath slammed the door in my face. The elevator didn’t come when I rang for it, so I walked down the stairs and out. Tukel wasn’t behind his desk when I went through the lobby.