Wolff, followed by Merlini, crossed the room to the window. He unlocked it and pulled it open.
“The switch-box lock was all right?” Galt asked.
“Wolff nodded, then pointed to a round hole in the window frame. “An ultraviolet light in there sends a beam of black light diagonally across the window opening. It is reflected by a small countersunk mirror on the opposite side and recrosses to center on a photoelectric cell.” He indicated another, lower hole in the frame near the sill. “Even an intruder who knew where the beam was wouldn’t be able to edge in past it. There’s not enough free space. And the moment his body interrupts the beam—”
He put out his hand and brought it down within the window opening like a conjurer commanding a miracle. The loud strident clamor of an alarm bell came instantly. Then, as a door slammed and footsteps raced toward us from the rear of the hall outside, Dunning threw a switch and the ringing stopped. We heard his voice reassuring Phillips.
Wolff called, “Dunning, Phillips. Both of you come in here.”
Merlini said, “I still don’t see that the alarm proves those guns are still in the house. It may keep outsiders out, but it won’t keep insiders in. Since the front door has a separate, easily accessible switch of its own, anyone could have taken the guns out and left the door ajar so as to get back.”
Wolff shook his head. “After what happened here this morning, I told Phillips to keep the door locked.” He turned to the butler who waited in the doorway. “Have you let anyone in or out of this house since nine o’clock?”
Phillips indicated Merlini and myself. “These two gentlemen came in. That’s all.”
“You’re quite sure? What about Leonard?”
“Not since nine o’clock. He came in just before dinner when you sent for him, but went out again immediately. There hasn’t been anyone else.”
“All right. Until further notice, no one goes in or out under any circumstances until you ask me. There are two guns missing from this room. If no one has left in the last hour the guns are still in the house somewhere. The cook is new today. I want you to search her room. At once.”
Phillips blinked. “Yes, sir.”
“That’s all. Report to me.”
The butler turned and went out.
Wolff waited a moment, then said, “And Dunning, while he’s doing that, you search his room!”
Dunning’s blink was even more pronounced, but he too merely nodded and went quickly out. If Wolff had told him to go jump in the lake I believe he would have done it just as promptly.
Francis Galt seemed amused. There was a twinkle in his eyes behind the thick-lensed glasses. “This looks like a game of musical chairs. Who searches Dunning’s room?”
Wolff had that answer ready. “You do. And don’t argue. Get going. You’ll have to get clear before he comes back.”
“But—” Galt started to protest. “I’m no—”
Wolff glared at him. “I said don’t argue.”
I thought for a moment that Galt was going to refuse flatly, but then he shrugged, turned, and started out. He stopped for a moment in the doorway.
“My bag of photographic equipment is here in the hall by the camera,” he said. “It’s unlocked and open for inspection.”
Wolff didn’t beat around the bush. I doubt if he knew how. “Thanks,” he said flatly. “I’ll look at it.”
Galt was not amused now. He said stiffly, “I’d prefer that you did. I’d rather not have this elimination process leave me out on a limb. But don’t move that camera. It’s all set and carefully focused on the stairs.”
“In hopes,” Merlini put in, trying to case the tension, “that Old Nick will soon be here?”
Galt nodded. “Yes. But you may not joke about it afterward. If you think you can prove that this ghost is made of cheesecloth, I warn you, you’ve got a job on your hands.”
“Galt,” Wolff commanded. “Get on with it and stop—”
Galt turned on his heel and vanished into the hall.
Wolff closed and locked the window, then crossed to the hall door and took a key ring from his pocket.
“I’m locking this room up,” he said.
As we filed out past him, Merlini asked, “Does Dunning have a key?”
Wolff nodded. “Yes. But I’ll collect it.”
“Any others?”
“No.” Wolff quickly locked the door and crossed to where the suitcase Galt had mentioned lay on the floor beside the camera tripod. He knelt, pulled it open, and began examining its contents.
I took a look at the camera. It was a Speed Graphic with synchronized flash. It was tilted back, set at f.4.5 and focused at twenty feet. Above the stair’s top step the second-floor hallway was dark.
I saw Merlini point at a row of light switches on the wall beside the gun-room door. “Will one of these give us some light in the hall up there?”
Kay nodded. “The one on the right. But Galt thinks that if it’s left dark, there’s a better chance—”
Merlini flipped the switch. Nothing happened. The darkness beyond the stairs remained as black as ever.
“Did he unscrew the bulb just to make sure?” Merlini asked.
Wolff looked up, surprised. “No. On the contrary, he put in a photoflood bulb so that he’d have plenty of light when we wanted it. It worked all right before. Someone—” Wolff started to get to his feet nervously. “Someone, Merlini finished, doesn’t like light. It looks promising. It may mean that the ghost’s appearance is guaranteed.” He turned to me. “Ross, check that camera. See if it’s ready for business. It would be too bad if, when our astral visitor appears—”
I saw the package of photographic film drop from Dudley Wolff’s fingers toward the floor, heard the quick intake of his breath, and, for a brief split second, glimpsed the terror that was on his face. My gaze jerked upward.
If speaking of the devil makes him appear, Merlini had done it. The ghost was there on the second floor beyond the balcony rail — a white blur of face and two hands floating in the dark. It was the same face Kathryn had described, thin, sharp-featured, its full lips surrounded by the thin mustache and close-cropped beard. Black eyes, like the cutout holes in a mask, stared down, fixed on Wolff. And, slowly, one hand moved, its forefinger pointing.
For a brief moment we stared soundlessly and without motion. Then, as though some invisible dam had burst, both sound and motion spilled over, rushing down upon us.
Merlini’s voice struck out at me, a thin knife-edged whisper.
“Camera, Ross! Quick!”
I brought my eyes down long enough to locate the cable release. I grabbed for it, pressed it, and then jumped. The sharp brilliant flare of the flash bulb was accompanied by a completely unexpected reverberating roar!
Then I saw the gun in Wolff’s hand kick back and saw him steady it to fire again. But, in the same instant, his target, the phantom whatever-it-was, moved, swiftly sideways to the right and vanished.
I suddenly found myself going up the stairs three steps at a time. Mr. Ghost didn’t appear to be such a healthy specimen, and my ghost-laying strategy, what I had of one, was based on the principle of the direct frontal attack.
But, when I reached the top, my next move wasn’t so obvious. The hallway to the right down which the ghost had gone was as dark as the Black Hole of Calcutta. I hesitated, remembering those missing guns.
I looked back over my shoulder and saw Merlini straighten up from above Galt’s suitcase, a large electric torch in his hand. Then, as he started up the stairs toward me, from somewhere beyond the darkness that filled the second-floor corridor my ears caught the faint sound of a door closing.
A second later all hell broke loose.