Roger Sherbrock must have cut the real Star of Delhi into six matched gems. That was the really clever part of it. Small sapphires were more apt to be suspected than one so well described as the Star of Delhi.
Probably Sherbrock had sold the imitation Star, a wonderful replica of the original, to Lenfell. He had then disposed of the six matched gems to Walder, who had probably learned that they were the portions of the real Star and had advertised the fact.
Threatened with exposure by Lenfell, the man he had swindled, Sherbrock had been forced to murder his dupe and other men who knew about the crooked sale. It was a sound theory, and one that pleased Weston as well as Cardona who was present, for it cleared The Shadow.
Undoubtedly, Sherbrock had come to Lenfell's last night to steal back the fake Star of Delhi, thereby disposing of evidence against himself. The Shadow had been on hand, crossing Sherbrock's trail again, as on a preceding night. Weston was mentioning this in an aside to Cardona, when The Shadow himself appeared in the office.
Of course, he came as Cranston. Out of the hubbub, he learned of the recent discovery, and looked at the Star of Delhi for himself. Turning to Weston, The Shadow inquired quietly:
"Who detected the fraud?"
"I did!" bragged Weston. Then, noting glances from some jewelers: "Thanks to Jan Garmath."
"Which man is he?"
Looking about, Weston couldn't find Garmath. It turned out that Garmath, like some of the other jewelers, had supposed that the conference was ended, and was therefore gone. When Weston asked where Garmath could be reached, no one knew. Garmath, it appeared, had a large fortune which he had brought from Europe, and was retired, rather than active, as a jeweler.
"It sums up to this, Cranston," declared the commissioner, no longer interested in Garmath. "Six real sapphires have gone back to their original owner, whoever he may be. We believe that those stones were cut by Sherbrock from the actual Star of Delhi. We shall try to find the owner and question him -
confidentially, of course - in hopes of evidence against Sherbrock."
"Naturally, the owner of the six sapphires may be loath to declare himself, for fear of death.
Nevertheless, we know what we are after - and that it is the first important step."
LATER that afternoon, Lamont Cranston met Margo Lane and calmly told her how Louis Talney was a guest at his residence, sent there by The Shadow. After piecing Talney into the picture, Cranston remarked:
"I shall have to call him later. He will be interested to hear about the Star of Delhi."
"How it was really cut into six smaller gems," nodded Margo. "I read all about it in the early afternoon editions. Clever of your friend, the commissioner, to find out that the large sapphire was an imitation.
Well, it's up to the police to look for the six small stones."
"Which they can never find."
"Can never find?" Margo echoed. "Why not?"
Seldom did The Shadow put so much emphasis into the tone of Cranston as he did on this occasion, in response to Margo's query.
"It was Garmath, not Weston," he said, "who exposed the great sapphire as a synthetic stone. After that, Garmath conveniently disappeared. It is Garmath who must be found. I believe that he manufactured the synthetic gem."
"And sold it to Lenfell?"
"No. Lenfell already had it. He wanted to keep it and dupe Talney and the rest into thinking that it had been cut. So he needed six small, synthetic stones, and asked Garmath to make them."
"Which Garmath did -"
"Which Garmath did not!" Cranston interposed. "He made six poisoned rings, instead. Knowing that Lenfell had a sale for the real Star of Delhi, Garmath naturally kept it. He made the large synthetic sapphire to dupe Lenfell. The poison worked too soon for Lenfell to ever take it to his customer."
It all struck home to Margo. Trails had diverged; the one that the police sought was quite different from The Shadow's quest. The law was after six real sapphires, whereas The Shadow wanted to uncover a single stone, the great Star of Delhi itself. The law's trail did not exist, but The Shadow's did!
Arriving late at the commissioner's conference, The Shadow had lost his opportunity to trail immediately the daring supercrook, Jan Garmath, who had personally given Weston the wrong start. But The Shadow would soon find a way to pick up Garmath's trail.
It wouldn't be through the two thugs captured the night before. At dusk, when The Shadow, fully cloaked, appeared within his sanctum, the hidden room where he formulated campaigns against crime, he found blank reports awaiting him. Harry Vincent and other agents had been unable to locate Dwig Brencott through the prisoners.
But there were other sheets of consequence, supplied by Rutledge Mann, an investment broker in The Shadow's service. Those sheets listed the names of wealthy men who were investors in gems, as well as stocks and bonds.
Less than an hour after he had left Margo Lane, The Shadow completed a check-up of the lists.
The Shadow had rated them in order of importance, intending to investigate them, each in turn. He felt sure that one of the first four would prove to be the man who could supply much-needed information.
In that surmise, The Shadow was correct: Second on the list was the name of Uriah Crome.
It should have topped the list, as The Shadow was soon to learn!
CHAPTER XVII. A MATTER OF PRICE
WHILE The Shadow was still busy in his sanctum, Uriah Crome was receiving a visitor, which was something very unusual. Though he lived near the center of Manhattan, Crome was twin brother to a hermit. His penthouse, located on the flat roof of an antiquated eight-story office building, might well have been a cave in the middle of a wilderness.
Old, dyspeptic, as bald as an eagle and beak-nosed as a vulture, Crome had only two delights in life: jewels and milk toast. He liked gems because they glittered, and appealed to his miser's sense of ownership. He preferred milk toast because it was the only fare that did not cause him indigestion.
Crome's penthouse could only be reached by an elevator that had a night operator especially for service to the top floor. Since Crome owned the office building, it was impossible for anyone to come upstairs without his permission. The night man always telephoned up first, to make sure that Crome would receive any candidate for admission who happened to be downstairs.
On this evening, Crome was seated in an oak-paneled room which he termed his den, when one of his several servants entered with a note. After reading it, Crome placed bony fingers to his thin chin, pondered for a few moments, then ordered:
"Show the visitor up."
The visitor was Jan Garmath, and Crome received him alone. While he finished his milk toast, the vulturous man kept surveying his dry-featured visitor with a look that would have suited a bird of prey.
Crome's gaze, however, was actually defensive. He regarded Garmath as the vulture; himself as anything from a worm to a fat-sized guinea hen, or whatever sort of tidbit a vulture might choose.
Crome opened negotiations with a sharpish query:
"You have come regarding the Star of Delhi?"
"I have brought the Star of Delhi," returned Garmath in the mild tone he so often used. "I thought that you would be pleased to view a priceless gem that happens to have a price."
Producing a small jewel case, Garmath exhibited a great blue gem, which, to all appearances, was the synthetic replica that Commissioner Weston had taken credit for detecting that afternoon. Crome had evidently read the newspapers, for he shook his head as he held the jewel to the light.
"Bah!" he snorted. "This sapphire is false!"
"It happens to be real," returned Garmath. "The synthetic stone is now in the possession of the police."
"But this could be an imitation, too."