“Good evening,” greeted Kermal, his harsh voice toned. “Have a seat, Mr. Lanford. Help yourself to a cigar. You are with friends.”
LANFORD considered Kermal with doubt; then he caught a nod from Claig. He started to sit down on the couch; then shied away and took a chair instead. He managed a weak smile as he accepted a cigar from a box that Kermal passed him.
“Mr. Lanford,” stated Kermal, “I greatly regret the circumstances that surrounded our first meeting. I must also apologize for the emergency which caused my servant to bring you here tonight.
“Therefore, I am ready to make explanation. Not only that: I am willing to answer any questions that may trouble you. Suppose, however, that I begin by giving an account of myself. That will automatically answer most of the questions that you have in mind.”
“Very well,” agreed Lanford, huskily. “Go ahead, Mr. Kermal.”
“You remember my name.” Kermal smiled. “Good. In full form, it is Taussig Kermal. I am a Boston attorney. I represent a man named Wade Dolthan, who died a few months ago. Before his death, he appointed me as executor of his estate.
“Wade Dolthan had a daughter named Myra. She is the young lady whom you met at our former headquarters. Myra was abroad at the time of her father’s death. Since she would not inherit the estate until she became of age, I feared for her safety during the short time that remained before she would be twenty-one.”
Kermal paused. He was seated back in his chair, looking steadily at Lanford. The Shadow could detect the closeness with which the lawyer was watching his listener.
“Let me be specific,” resumed Kermal. “Should Myra Dolthan die before the age of twenty-one, the full estate would go to her stepbrother, George Garling. He is older than Myra, and he is a man of doubtful character.
“Do not misunderstand my statement” — Kermal raised his hand as Lanford was about to ask a question — “I would not accuse Garling of plotting his stepsister’s death. Far from it. Garling is a weakling. But therein lies the possibility that he might listen to the threats of others.
“Wade Dolthan warned me that his stepson was a man with a bad past. He refused to give me details; but he intimated that there might be people who held information sufficient to send Garling to prison.
“Such persons would naturally like to see Wade Dolthan’s estate go into the hands of George Garling. They could blackmail that young man for several millions. There is one way in which they could assure themselves that Garling would receive the money. That would be by murdering Myra Dolthan prior to her twenty-first birthday.”
Kermal paused to survey his listener, Lanford was staring in amazement. He looked toward Doctor Claig, who nodded shrewdly.
“Am I clear?” questioned Kermal. “Do you see, Lanford, what great opportunity exists for those of criminal tendency? Realize one point” — he wagged an impressive finger — “namely that murderers could strike before they revealed themselves. They would not have to start pressure on Garling until after he actually held the millions.
“They could approach him by proxy, if necessary. He would not dare accuse anyone of murder; for on the face of it, he would appear to be the one who had most to gain. Had I realized those complications prior to Wade Dolthan’s death, I would have insisted that he change his will. But I did not see the danger until after he had died.”
KERMAL arose impressively. Chewing at a fresh cigar, he paced back and forth. He finally seated himself on the couch, nearer to Lanford than he had been before.
“There are remedies for most ills,” stated Kermal, steadily. “I saw the cure in this case. To keep Myra Dolthan hidden until she is of age. Then to have her make out a will herself, cutting George Garling off entirely. When that has been accomplished, plotters will be checkmated.
“I happened to be a friend of Doctor Leo Claig. He came to Boston while Myra was on her way from Europe. I wanted to use his house as our hiding place. He suggested that it would be better to occupy a house on Dobson’s Road, a building recently vacated by an artist named Brooks.
“We moved in there one night. Myra, myself, Daggart and two servants: Croy and Blissop. Brooks had failed to order the telephone disconnected. That suited us, because it enabled us to communicate with Doctor Claig.
“However, the telephone caused trouble. Last Saturday night, Daggart heard someone making a call by the door of the hall closet. Daggart listened; he heard Blissop giving someone instructions how to reach our house.
“Blissop, like Croy, was in my confidence. The man had turned traitor. He was selling out to those who wished to murder Myra. Daggart rushed upon Blissop as soon as the fellow had completed the call.
“Blissop drew a gun. He fired two shots; one clipped Daggart’s arm. When Daggart fell, Blissop was aiming deliberately to kill him when Croy arrived. He had a gun; he had heard the shots. He fired and his bullet lodged in Blissop’s heart.”
Lanford saw Daggart standing pale-faced near the couch. The secretary nodded as he caught Kermal’s gaze. Daggart’s face looked troubled; Lanford decided that the man was recalling that experience in which he had been wounded.
“I called Doctor Claig,” declared Kermal. “He attended Daggart’s wound. We placed Blissop’s body in the living room. Then we discussed our next step. Less than one week remained before Myra would be twenty-one. It seemed best to avoid complications until that date.
“To inform the authorities would have caused an inquiry. Our whereabouts would be known. Myra would be held as a witness. We knew that we were dealing with hidden foes who would go to any measure to slay the girl whom we were protecting
“Blissop had told them where we were. Fortunately, his telephone conversation had been finished. They did not know what had happened. Yet there was a chance that they might come that very night. Blissop had directed them to take the first road after they passed the one marked Westbury.
“We sent Croy out into the storm. He removed the sign. He brought it to our road and planted it there. We knew that we would have time to move. We were packing upstairs when you and Goodling arrived. Naturally, Croy suspected that you might be enemies.”
LANFORD smiled. The story sounded logical. Kermal smiled also; he saw that Lanford was beginning to believe.
“Croy’s description of you and Goodling impressed Doctor Claig and myself,” said Kermal, to Lanford. “We sent Daggart downstairs, however, to make sure. Unfortunately, Myra, who was upset by Blissop’s death, saw you before Daggart arrived.
“She took it upon herself to give you a vague warning. You became suspicious and discovered Blissop’s body. Even then we would not have dealt roughly with you if Goodling had not started the attack.
“After we had overpowered the pair of you, I felt that there was no time to be lost. Doctor Claig agreed. He realized who you were. That was why we turned out the lights before he came in to administer the hypodermic.
“Croy took you both to the edge of the creek. He left you in the coupe. He came back and helped us complete packing. After that, he replaced the sign where it belonged. We came here and brought Blissop’s body with us. Our intention was to make everything known the day that Myra becomes of age.”
Kermal stopped. It was Doctor Claig who added the finishing touch to the story.
“There was a trunk at the old house,” explained the physician, dryly. “Blissop had put it away somewhere. We overlooked it when we packed. When we checked up on everything here, we remembered the trunk.
“Myra thought it must be under the stairs. We decided to send Croy to find it, since I had learned, downtown, that the location of the house was still a mystery. But Croy could not go until after the search was ended.”