“Sure,” volunteered Nethro. “Maybe Garsher saw Caffley do a sneak from Lentz’s. Maybe Sycher took him down in the elevator at the Belgaria. Then he could have gone on to Frieth’s. Sure, Cardona. Take a stab at Caffley as the triple murderer.”
“That’s smart, isn’t it,” gibed Cardona. “Well, that just shows there’s some facts neither of you know about. Hiram Caffley was with judge Channing from half past four until half past six.
“There were others there, too — a conference in Caffley’s office. So Caffley couldn’t have seen Lentz at five; and he couldn’t have seen Morath at six. As for him picking a couple of locks at Frieth’s — well, try to imagine Caffley doing it.
“But what’s the use? Caffley’s alibi is perfect, and it covers the times of the first two murders. Alibis! Whew! They’ve got me goofy! Garsher has one for Morath and Frieth, when I was holding him; Sycher’s got one for Frieth, because I was holding Sycher along at seven o’clock.
“Caffley’s there with an ironclad alibi covering Lentz and Morath. You’re set, Mr. Dreblin, on Morath and Frieth; and you’re fixed, Nethro, for the time Frieth was killed. Powlden’s out because things were planted on him.
“The whole thing means there must have been somebody else — some guy who hasn’t even been talked about. Say, it’s got me so goofy, I’d be thinking it was me that did the murders — or the commissioner — or Mr. Cranston—”
“Except,” interrupted Nethro, “that the three of you were all together, following the murders as fast as they came in.”
“That’s right,” growled Cardona. “Even the three of us had alibis. I’m telling you frankly, I don’t know where I’m—”
CARDONA broke off as the telephone began to ring. The detective pounced upon it, expecting that it might be a call from Lamont Cranston. The observers saw the eagerness on Cardona’s face; then they saw the expression change. Joe became solemn.
“Yes, commissioner,” stated the detective. “Yes, this is Cardona. I’ll tell you about — what’s that?… I see… All right, I can tell you about what happened here after I see you… Certainly… I understand… Yes, I’ll start inside of five minutes… All right, commissioner… Yes, I’ve got your order.”
Cardona hung up. He eyed the other persons present and said nothing as he drew a cigarette from his pocket and placed it between his lips. As Joe struck a match, it became plain to those watching him that the detective had received a most important summons from Acting Commissioner Barth; one that Cardona did not intend to discuss.
There was a rap at the door. Cardona gripped his revolver and growled an order to come in. Alfred appeared; behind the servant was Detective Sergeant Markham. Evidently Alfred had not seen The Shadow go out; for the servant seemed utterly amazed to discover other persons than Dreblin and Cardona in the room.
A plain-clothes man shuffled in after Markham. Cardona motioned them to chairs and gave prompt but brief instructions. His words only added to the mystery of the recent telephone call.
“Nobody’s to leave this room,” growled Cardona. He shot a look toward Alfred, who was still at the door. “Keep the flunky here, now you’ve got him. Hold everybody. Understand, Markham?”
The detective sergeant acknowledged.
“I’m going to see the commissioner,” added Joe. “I’ll call you back later. Then I’ll tell you what to do next, Markham. After I’ve talked with the commissioner.”
With that final statement, Cardona swung about and went out through the door which The Shadow had taken in the guise of Lamont Cranston.
Puzzled glances passed between Philo Dreblin and Kip Nethro. Harry Vincent was perplexed as well. For while The Shadow’s leisurely departure had promised new developments, Joe Cardona’s going indicated that the unexpected had already arrived.
CHAPTER XVIII
THE PROOF OF CRIME
DETECTIVE JOE CARDONA had admitted a fact when he had stated that he was completely bewildered by the complications that surrounded crime. Until this night, Joe had been convinced that Donald Powlden was the murderer of three men. Now the sleuth agreed otherwise.
Kip Nethro had believed Philo Dreblin the murderer. The magnate, in turn, had suspected the investigator. Their theories were riddled as bad as Cardona’s. There had been three in the boat when Cardona had paced Dreblin’s study, awaiting the arrival of Markham.
In fact, Cardona had begun to doubt that Lamont Cranston knew more than he had told. Not connecting Cranston with The Shadow, Joe had merely believed that he had been dealing with an amateur detective who had made a lucky guess.
Then out of a clear sky had come the bombshell that had started Cardona to a new destination. A cryptic telephone call from Wainwright Barth, the last person from whom the ace had expected to gain a new and important lead. For Joe had little faith in the acting commissioner’s ability as a crime detector.
Barth had ordered Cardona to come to Hiram Caffley’s home on Long Island. Tersely interrupting Cardona’s own statements, Barth had advised the detective to be prompt. He had also admonished Cardona to tell no one where he was going. Joe was to come alone by taxicab, and meet the commissioner upon his arrival.
Cardona had taken a cab at a corner near Dreblin’s. As the taxi rolled across a huge East River bridge, the detective began to form a definite conclusion regarding the new developments. Cardona remembered that Caffley had left the Cobalt Club to go straight home; he also recalled that Barth had remained at the club.
Either Caffley or Barth had struck upon something. That seemed definite. Barth had gone to Caffley’s; there the two had decided that they needed Cardona for their conference. Joe began to have a lurking suspicion that he had nearly made another slip at Dreblin’s.
After all, neither Nethro nor Dreblin had actually substantiated their well-stated alibis. Joe remembered Lamont Cranston’s advice: to hold the two men until the alibis had been checked. Well, Markham was holding them. That was cause for satisfaction.
The taxi was far past the bridge when Cardona’s mind was trying to puzzle out what Barth and Caffley could possibly have learned about Dreblin. Had the two found some lead that showed Nethro’s connection as investigator for Dreblin?
That seemed the only logical answer, for a very definite reason. Barth had deliberately called Cardona at Dreblin’s and had instructed the ace to leave there. The commissioner had not said to arrest Dreblin.
As the cab rolled along a broad, well-lighted boulevard, Cardona came to the decision that this trip would probably be of little consequence. He doubted that Barth had any important data concerning Dreblin; if he had, he would have called for the magnate’s arrest.
Cardona was also sure that no news could have reached Barth concerning the flight of Al Sycher from the Belgaria Apartments. It looked merely like a call from Caffley, asking for a conference with the police commissioner; with Barth, after his arrival, deciding that Cardona should be in on the talk.
Cardona felt that he would be the real news bringer when he reached Caffley’s home; that his account of recent developments would dwarf any information that either Barth or Caffley had to offer.
Joe chuckled loudly as the cab turned from the boulevard, on to the last short stretch before Caffley’s home.
THE ride had been a quick one, despite the distance. Cardona was surprised at the amount of the taxi fare when he alighted at the long front walk that led to a large, gloomy building — the home of Hiram Caffley.
The trip had required little more than twenty minutes; yet Cardona had reached an isolated district tucked off from the heavy traffic of the boulevard, in the direction of Long Island Sound.