Gleaming from within the box, catching the focused lamplight with radiating streaks, was a giant star sapphire that answered the description of the famous Star of Delhi.
It was little wonder that Weston was surprised. Had Lenfell's body come suddenly to life, it couldn't have amazed the commissioner more. For the Star of Delhi, according to the unimpeachable word of Raymond Walder, the now-dead jeweler, had been divided into the six gems that Walder himself had exhibited in his store!
SUCH astonishment was something that Weston had to share. When he arrived back at the Cobalt Club, he made a call to New Jersey and spoke to his friend Cranston, who answered in a very sleepy tone.
"Another murder, Cranston!" exclaimed Weston. "With it we have found the Star of Delhi!"
"Good!" was Cranston's reply. "So you've solved everything. Good work commissioner."
"But that only increases the mystery," Weston insisted. "The Star of Delhi was supposed to be cut up.
But we've found out that it wasn't."
"Too bad," responded Cranston. "I thought it was cut up. Saw it myself, all in pieces. How are you going to find the Star of Delhi when there isn't any Star of Delhi?"
"But we have found it -"
A click interrupted from the other end. Evidently, Cranston was too opinionated to give any credence to Weston's statement. At his end of the phone, the commissioner fumed and muttered a few comments regarding Cranston's obstinacy. He was sorry that he had bothered to call his friend at all.
The Shadow wasn't sorry.
At his end of the line, The Shadow stood with half-closed eyes, picturing the possible results to which the finding of the great sapphire might lead. Then, from the fixed lips of Cranston, came a grim but softly whispered laugh.
It was the laugh of The Shadow, presaging new and curious quests along the trail to strangely hidden crime.
CHAPTER XVI. TRAILS DIVERGE
IRKED by Cranston's indifference to the finding of the great sapphire, and desirous of showing some success on an evening when murder had reigned, Commissioner Weston lost no time in informing the press that the Star of Delhi had been recovered in its original shape.
The news created a vast sensation, and somewhat counteracted public criticism over the matter of six mysterious deaths.
It was the sort of story that the newspapers liked. Every great gem had some curious past history, and the Star of Delhi was no exception. Journalists dug for facts, and produced them.
Once famous as the principal gem in a Hindu rajah's crown, the Star of Delhi had undergone a century of travel and transfer, leaving slaughter and rebellion in its wake. Reaching the possession of a European collector, it had brought him ill luck, including the forced sale of the prized blue jewel.
The jinx was still at work, and the fact that it had cost the lives of six men could be attributed to the greed of all. Each man, it so seemed, had shared a sinister secret - that of six false sapphires which had passed as portions of the Star of Delhi.
How much Walder, the dead jeweler, had known; how deeply Sherbrock, the missing lapidary, was involved, were perplexing questions that bothered the press quite as much as the law.
Certain it was that six smaller gems had been exhibited as parts of the great sapphire, stones so well matched that they must have been of the same origin. The question of the false gems led to a discussion of synthetic sapphires, which offered the only solution to the fraud.
At late breakfast in the quiet of his New Jersey home, Lamont Cranston read the newspaper reports and made comment to Louis Talney, who was seated across the table.
"They seem more stirred by the finding of the Star of Delhi," said Cranston, "than by your death, Talney, and those of six others."
"Five others," reminded Talney. "I wasn't killed."
"Six others," Cranston corrected. "You are forgetting your own servant: Glevin. It seems that his body was found, but was mistaken for yours."
Talney's face showed an expression of relief. As circumstances stood, he preferred to be counted as dead.
"Any other news?" he queried. "Anything about the man who fled from Lenfell's?"
"You mean The Shadow?" queried Cranston, glancing at the newspaper. "No. They aren't sure that he's to blame. His case doesn't puzzle me so much, Talney."
"Why not?"
"He may have gone there investigating the chain of crime. What does surprise me is the matter of the poisoned rings."
"You're surprised because the police have not suspected them?"
"No." The Shadow shook his head in a leisurely fashion. His steady tone was Cranston's. "I can't quite understand why murder was so necessary."
The remark was meant to draw an opinion from Talney. It succeeded.
"I understand," expressed Talney. "There wasn't any need for Lenfell to murder us. We trusted him too much. But whoever else wanted to steal the Star of Delhi, had to kill Lenfell in order to get the gem. That meant murdering the rest of us, because we all knew Lenfell."
"Who do you think the murderer is?"
"Probably Roger Sherbrock. Maybe Lenfell made a deal with him, to fake six sapphires instead of cutting the large one. When the police found out that Sherbrock was the brain behind the jewel robberies, it put Sherbrock outside the law. So he decided to go after the Star of Delhi."
The Shadow nodded, even though he knew that Talney's theories were very wide of the mark. In The Shadow's opinion, Sherbrock was quite innocent, though the police, like Talney, thought the opposite.
Sherbrock was the scapegoat for the crimes of others, which The Shadow could appreciate, since he was getting into the same class of the falsely accused.
"I'll drop into town," The Shadow decided, "and have a chat with my friend, the commissioner."
"The sooner you come back," returned Talney, "the better I'll like it, Cranston. I'm eager to know what else develops."
DEVELOPMENTS were under way while Cranston's limousine was starting to Manhattan.
In his office, Commissioner Weston was receiving a delegation of prominent jewelers, all eager to see the Star of Delhi. Among them was a dryish-faced man named Jan Garmath, known as an expert on artificial gems. It was Garmath who supplied some facts that Weston wanted.
"Synthetic sapphires are quite common," declared Garmath. "They are produced by fusing aluminum sesquioxide and the necessary chemical coloring. Only under the microscope can they he told from natural gems."
"Ah!" Weston exclaimed. "Then we could detect the six false sapphires, should we regain them!"
"You could," agreed Garmath. "You must look for the structural lines. You will find them curved, instead of straight. Furthermore, synthetic sapphires contain bubbles. Look at the Star of Delhi, commissioner" -
Garmath provided a powerful lens - "and you will see straight lines, but no bubbles."
Weston studied the great gem through the glass.
"You said curved lines," he remarked, "and bubbles. Was I right, Mr. Garmath?"
"Yes, commissioner. Synthetic sapphires fit that description."
The commissioner was idly laying down the glass and replacing the Star of Delhi in its plush-lined box.
He stopped abruptly, popping up in his chair, looking from one witness to another.
"Synthetic!" he exclaimed. "Did you say synthetic?"
"I said -"
Garmath couldn't complete it. Others were pouncing for the Star of Delhi, all bringing out their magnifiers.
In half a minute, Weston's office was teeming with confusion. The great sapphire, seen under the glass, had curved structural lines and bubbles.
The Star of Delhi was a fake!
Never before had these jewelers seen such a large imitation gem.
Theories were popping thick and fast, all to one conclusion. Facts had been reversed, with but one possible explanation, according to the experts.