Master of Death

CHAPTER IX. CLEWS ARE LINKED

DETECTIVE JOE CARDONA had arrived on the job. He was standing in Wycroft Dustin’s inner laboratory, turning his attention from the dead man to the living persons with whom he was speaking.

“What is your opinion, Doctor Gregory?” questioned the detective, turning to the physician who had seen Dustin die.

“Dustin died from a fever,” returned the doctor. “It was the most extraordinary case that I have ever witnessed. I had no opportunity to take his temperature. The symptoms, however, were obvious.”

A police surgeon who had arrived with Cardona voiced his agreement with Doctor Gregory’s statement.

The detective appeared puzzled.

“It looks like a case of natural death,” he decided.

“Natural, yes,” said Doctor Gregory, “but almost beyond belief. Unless Dustin already had an extraordinarily high temperature when he came into the laboratory, I cannot understand how it increased to such intensity within so short a space of time.”

“You saw him come in,” said Cardona to Garfield. “Did he seem ill at the time?”

“No,” replied the assistant. “He seemed a trifle annoyed, that was all. I was telling him about the junkman coming to get old bottles and beakers. I began to describe the fellow, and Mr. Dustin cut me short.”

Cardona, like Dustin, appeared to have no interest in the matter of the man who had come for bottles.

The detective was eyeing the alcove with its range of brilliant lights. He walked in that direction, and stood beside the workbench.

“It’s hot here,” was his comment. “Do you think that all of these lights could have had an effect on Dustin?”

“Not unless his temperature was already high,” returned Doctor Gregory. “The excessive heat could have added to his discomfort. It could not have produced a fever.”

“Mr. Dustin turned out two of the bulbs,” remarked Garfield. “Two were already burned out, and I had not replaced them because it was seldom that Mr. Dustin used all the lights.”

Joe Cardona clicked the individual switches of the different incandescents. As Garfield had stated, two were burned out. Cardona extinguished one of the illuminated bulbs, and produced a handkerchief which he used on his hand, while he removed the incandescent from the socket.

The detective walked from the warm alcove, and placed the bulb on a table. He saw that it was an ordinary article. The detective shook his head as he turned to the men about him.

“I shall make a report of Dustin’s death,” he stated. “I think it would be advisable to take the body to the morgue. From what you have said, Doctor Gregory, regarding the intensity of the man’s fever and the sudden death it produced, I shall make a study of Dustin’s past activities. It might be possible that this fever was put into his system before he came here tonight.”

“That is quite possible,” agreed Doctor Gregory.

Wycroft Dustin’s body was removed. The bright lights were extinguished. Garfield turned a switch in the outer room which plunged the entire laboratory in darkness. The men departed.

Joe Cardona had rejected any theory of death dealt in the laboratory.

SILENCE remained. Then came a faint swishing sound. Someone was in the laboratory. A form was coming from a small side room that adjoined the outer chamber. A tiny light flickered.

The Shadow had been stationed within hearing distance during the entire police investigation. His turn had arrived. He was going over the ground which Joe Cardona had rejected. The flickering disk of light approached the alcove.

A soft laugh whispered in the gloom. Even in the act of approach, The Shadow had made a discovery. It lay within the confines of the alcove.

One incandescent in the three-sided row was set at the edge of the alcove. It was least conspicuous of all. It could be seen only from within the alcove itself. This was one of the burned-out incandescents.

Here, in darkness, it produced a strange phenomenon.

Through the frosted surface of the bulb glowed the dim rays of a bluish light. The Shadow’s torch threw a steady flicker. The dull glow of the incandescent was no longer apparent. The Shadow’s light, however, revealed another fact.

Running down the inner corner of the alcove was a thin wire, visible only when viewed under the sharp light of the torch. This passed beneath the workbench, into a wooden box. The open top of the box showed only cotton waste and crumpled pieces of paper.

The Shadow’s light went out. The dead incandescent still showed its faint bluish glow. The hands of The Shadow drew the box from the alcove. The dull glimmer of the incandescent vanished. The Shadow’s light showed the cause; the removal of the box had disconnected that tiny wire which ran up to the row of lights.

Another matter manifested itself beneath the probing flashlight. The removal of the box had broken a connecting cord between the box and a floor plug under the bench. The cord remained, adhering to the wall socket.

The flashlight glimmered on the waste material in the box. The Shadow’s free hand removed the crumpled paper and the mass of cotton. Embedded in this useless material was a square electrical transformer, constructed of black-painted metal.

The Shadow laughed. He knew the answer. He could reconstruct exactly what had happened. A man had come to collect old bottles and beakers. That man had brought some boxes with him. Garfield had aided him to pack up the junk.

Garfield, however, had not been watchful. The supposed junkman had accomplished a purpose other than the collection of old bottles.

During convenient moments, probably when Garfield had unthinkingly gone to the outer laboratory to look for more old bottles, the insidious visitor had placed this special box beneath the workbench.

He had plugged its projecting cord into the wall socket. He had run its special wire up to the row of incandescents. He had inserted what appeared to be a burned-out bulb in the end of the row.

Rising, The Shadow turned his flashlight’s rays upon the incandescent which was now dead. He unscrewed the bulb from its socket. The little wire dropped, almost unnoticeably, to the floor.

Again, The Shadow laughed.

This was ingenious. The mere removal of a box of waste; the simple act of unscrewing a burned-out incandescent — these were sufficient to destroy all evidence. Only a small piece of wire would remain upon the floor. Waste and bulb would be thrown away. Nothing could remain to show the cause of Wycroft Dustin’s death.

The Shadow’s flashlight flickered across the laboratory. It disappeared altogether. From then on, The Shadow’s course was invisible. When next his presence became apparent, it was in the room which he had left earlier in the evening — the black-walled laboratory.

THE light switch clicked to reveal The Shadow in his garb of sable hue. Upon the table, The Shadow placed two objects; one was the transformer which he had removed from the box of waste; the other was a small package wrapped within a broad strip of rubber.

Donning his rubber gloves, The Shadow unwrapped this and produced the incandescent which he had taken from Dustin’s alcove.

Swift preparations followed. Soon the bulb was resting in an upright socket; to this was attached the transformer. The Shadow screwed the bulb in place.

There was no sign of activity until the black-gloved hand pressed the light switch of the room. Darkness came; with it, the bluish-violet glow within the incandescent.

On came The Shadow’s flashlight. A hammer poised above the incandescent. A short, quick stroke. The glass was shattered. The bluish glow remained. It came, not from the bulb itself, but from a short tube that was within the frosted glass of the incandescent.

The Shadow detached the transformer. While his flashlight still focused its rays upon the discovered tube, The Shadow’s laugh crept fantastically through the darkened laboratory. The weird investigator had learned the final details.

The tube within the bulb was the creation of some highly inventive mind — an intensified emanator of a fever-producing ray. Its like was already known to science, but this heat-causing apparatus was obviously of greater power than any which had been previously produced.

Glowing within what appeared to be a dead incandescent, emitting its powerful rays through the aid of the transformer, this tube had brought death to Wycroft Dustin. The chemist, standing steadily within its unscreened range, had succumbed to its terrific force.

Who had developed this ray?

The Shadow knew. Merle Clussig must be the man responsible. Clussig had died, through the use of dry ice containing carbon monoxide, a deadly substance designed by Wycroft Dustin. Each victim had unwittingly been responsible for the other’s death!

Some unknown schemer had played one against the other. No trace of his evil identity had been left.

Merle Clussig could have revealed his name; so could have Wycroft Dustin. These men were dead, and the fruits of their inventive and research genius belong to the plotter who had designed their doom!

What other secrets had been gained by this murderer? That question could not be answered until The Shadow had gained the key to the unknown’s identity. Well did The Shadow know that neither the plotter nor his agent — the tool who bore a remarkable likeness to Spud Jagron — would return to the scenes of crime.

The overturned wastebasket at Clussig’s; the trash-buried transformer, and the burned-out incandescent — these were clews which Joe Cardona had failed to discover. The murderer, however, had not reckoned with The Shadow. The master of crime detection had found the clews and had linked them!

THE SHADOW’S laboratory was empty. A light now glimmered in the sanctum. Bluish rays upon a shining-topped table — white hands with their sparkling girasol sending back its vivid flashes. The Shadow’s fingers were inscribing inked thoughts.

How had the murderer formed contact with Merle Clussig and Wycroft Dustin? There was only one logical answer.

He had unquestionably offered them possibilities for financial gain through the development of their inventions. Both had intrusted him with their devices. By eliminating both parties, he had gained all usage for himself.

What promises had he made? Promotion was the answer. This unknown individual was undoubtedly a man with recognized financial contacts. Possibly he had previously brought gain to inventors and research specialists.

The Shadow’s hand was writing swiftly. Coded words appeared in vivid blue. Before the drying ink could vanish, the hands closed the note and sealed it, in an envelope. Upon this, The Shadow inscribed the name and address of Rutledge Mann.

Cliff Marsland was already searching the underworld for clews to the disappearance of Spuds Jagron.

Tomorrow, Rutledge Mann would begin an investigation in The Shadow’s service. Where Cliff was working by stealth and cunning, Mann would be open in his methods.

As an investment broker, with a wide range of activity, he would offer opportunities for those who might be interested in the purchase of newly developed inventions. Through this course, Mann would learn the identity of financiers most likely to seek such offerings.

The Shadow had correctly visioned a triangle of circumstance. Merle Clussig and Wycroft Dustin represented two points; the third was some man of money who they believed was ready to capitalize the results of their ability.

Somewhere within that triangle lay the hidden murderer. He had slain the two creators who knew his identity, but the moneyed man with whom he had negotiated had evidently not been touched. Perhaps that man’s life was also threatened; perhaps not. At any rate, The Shadow sought the financier — through him to learn the identity of the superslayer.

With the aid of his capable agents, The Shadow was reaching out to avenge past crime, and to prevent the stroke of greater evil that might lay ahead. It was The Shadow’s aim to thwart a dangerous crook before the villain could launch a fierce campaign of terror.

To date, The Shadow had not encountered Eric Veldon; yet the master of darkness was directly on the trail of the man with the fiendish smile. Eventually, their paths would meet. The Shadow had linked the clews that were leading to that meeting!