Murder Every Hour

CHAPTER XVI STRONG ALIBIS

“THIS mess starts with the Duro Metal proposition,” declared Nethro. “That alloy meant a lot to Mr. Dreblin here. If anybody else had got control of it, calthite would have been sunk. So Mr. Dreblin was out to buy it.”

“So was Hiram Caffley,” remarked Dreblin in his bass rumble. “He needed Duro Metal to protect ferroluminum.”

“Let’s hear Nethro talk,” growled Cardona. “You’ll get a chance later, Dreblin.”

Nethro looked toward The Shadow, who nodded in leisurely fashion. The investigator resumed.

“Two million bucks was the price tag on Duro Metal,” declared Nethro. “Pretty steep for Mr. Dreblin here. He’d rather have stuck with calthite. He wanted to bring down the price before he bought it. That’s what he told me.”

“I spoke the truth,” rasped Dreblin. “I was satisfied with calthite — just as much as Caffley was with ferroluminum. But Caffley could raise two million—”

“Hold it,” ordered Cardona.

Dreblin silenced. And Nethro spoke again.

“I’ll make it brief,” he said. “Mr. Dreblin wanted me to sound out that tribe. I told him that I’d go see the three of them. Lentz first, the next afternoon just before five o’clock. After that, Morath; then Frieth.

“I saw Lentz. He was polite enough. I smoked one of his cigarettes, sitting across the table from him. But I didn’t get anywhere when I said I represented a syndicate that wanted to buy Duro Metal. He said it was out of his hands.

“I went to Morath next. Didn’t get to first base with the lawyer. I was there about five-thirty; Morath slammed the door in my face. The elevator didn’t come when I rang for it, so I walked down the stairs and out. Tukel wasn’t behind his desk when I went through the lobby.

“Listen to what comes next. This is going to be important. After I ate, I went to see Frieth. I got to the Hotel Gilderoy and asked for the promoter. He wasn’t in, so I sat in the lobby and smoked a cigarette.

“At twenty-five minutes of seven — by my watch, which was right — I gave up waiting and went out. I headed straight to the Acme Agency, which is only half a block from the Gilderoy. I walked in there at twenty minutes of seven.”

Nethro paused to look at Cardona.

“Go ahead,” ordered the detective. “Twenty of seven. Frieth came into the Gilderoy at quarter of seven. We’ll hear your alibi.”

“It’s one that will hold,” assured Nethro. “When I reached the agency, I went into the chief’s office. You know the chief, Cardona. Mr. Fitzsimmons.”

Cardona nodded. Fitzsimmons had a high reputation. The alibi was becoming interesting.

“With Fitz,” declared Nethro, “was Maurice Shollin, an attorney from the office of the D.A. He was talking to Fitz about some minor matter, and wanted information from me. Fitz said they’d been waiting for me; that he’d expected me in by half past six.

“I pulled out my watch and saw it was only twenty minutes of seven. Ten minutes wasn’t much to be late. I told the chief so and he looked at his own watch. He saw I was right; and as luck had it, Shollin looked at his watch, too.

“Fitz was surprised. He realized he hadn’t kept tabs on the time. What’s more, all our watches were right on the dot and Fitz said that was pretty good time-keeping. So he took a look at the Naval Observatory clock in the office and it showed we were right.

“Well, the next day, when I read about those murders, I saw I’d gotten a lucky break. Fitzsimmons and Shollin won’t have forgotten that I came in at twenty of seven. What’s more, I stayed with them for an hour. So it’s a cinch that I couldn’t have bumped off Newell Frieth.”

Nethro paused triumphantly. Seeing that the investigator had concluded, Dreblin rumbled an objection.

“You didn’t tell me this, Nethro,” rebuked the magnate. “You started to say that you reached the office at twenty minutes of seven, when I questioned you the next night. But then you changed your mind and said you weren’t sure.”

“Let me explain something,” requested Nethro, looking toward The Shadow. “I was supposed to come in here and see Mr. Dreblin at nine o’clock on the evening of the murders. Fitzsimmons had work for me to do. I couldn’t get here and I didn’t think I’d found out enough to make a visit worthwhile.”

“The next day when I read about the murders, I was worried. Mr. Dreblin had offered me two hundred thousand bucks if I could save him two million. I began to think that maybe he had found a way to save the two million for himself.

“The whole thing looked phony. Like I was framed along with Powlden. If the Powlden hokum didn’t go over, I’d be the next suspect. Well, I had one alibi. So I thought I’d better come around here and chin with Mr. Dreblin.

“I talked straight at first; but as I went along, I got the idea that I’d better let him think I didn’t have an alibi at all. I figured him for the murderer and it looked like a good stunt to feel him out. So I bluffed; and I agreed to keep in touch with him right along.

“I saw him last night and said I’d be back at nine tonight. I got here early, and right off we caught this secretary, Vincent, snooping at the door. Dreblin said to grab him and I helped, figuring it was good policy to play in with Dreblin.”

Nethro shot a sidelong glance at the magnate; then rubbed his chin and looked at Cardona.

“When Alfred came up here,” resumed Nethro, “and said you were outside, I figured the time had come to turn on Dreblin. But he didn’t give me a chance. He yanked a big gat out of the desk drawer and told me to help him snag you.

“What else could I do, Cardona? Dreblin might have plugged me if I hadn’t worked with him. I knew he wouldn’t murder Vincent or you while I was around — that is, if I worked with him. I figured Dreblin needed me.

“Once he grabbed you, Cardona, the law would have something on him for a starter. He’d have to open up — offer me dough to work with him — and I was ready to act like I was willing. But in the pinch, I’d have helped you and Vincent. Get it, Cardona? It was my only out.”

Nethro put his statement with real sincerity. Following his alibi, the story was convincing. Cardona turned to The Shadow.

“LOOKS as if Nethro is on the level, Mr. Cranston,” decided the detective. “He’s got a good rep, working for Fitzsimmons. I’m going to arrest Dreblin.”

The magnate began a rumbling protest. The Shadow waved for silence.

“Let Mr. Dreblin speak,” he said quietly, to Cardona. “Nethro has had his opportunity. It is Dreblin’s turn.”

“Good,” growled the magnate. “Very good! This will be the time when you will all hear real facts. It is true that I offered Nethro money if he could help me with the Duro Metal deal. That was a straight-forward business proposition.”

“Dreblin’s got a paper I signed,” warned Nethro. “That was one reason why I stayed in line, Cardona. He sprang that stunt early in the game—”

“You have my signed memo,” interrupted Dreblin, “offering you two hundred thousand dollars if you could make those swindlers forget their Duro Metal.”

“Hear him talk, Cardona?” queried Nethro. “Swindlers. He means Lentz, Morath and Frieth—”

“Hear me out!” bellowed Dreblin. Then, as Nethro quieted, the magnate resumed: “I knew all about those fellows. I knew about Powlden, too. But Nethro knew as much as I did.

“I sent him to see those men. All three of them: Lentz, Morath and Frieth. I told him to say that he was representing a syndicate; but I never suspected that he would go in for murder. Not until afterward.”

Pausing, Dreblin glared at Nethro; then resumed:

“When Nethro failed to come here on the evening after the murders, I wondered why he had not kept his appointment. I read the newspapers the next morning and I saw the answer. Nethro was the murderer.”

Nethro started to speak; then shook his head.

“I was going to inform the police,” stated Dreblin, “but I desisted. I thought that Nethro still might come to see me. His only motive for murder had been the lure of the two hundred thousand dollars that I had promised. So I waited until the next evening. Nethro arrived.

“He was nervy enough to insinuate that I might have had a hand in the murder. I decided to gain his confidence. I felt that if I could hold the two hundred thousand dollars as bait, he would make more visits.

“I wanted to learn more before informing the law. So I urged Nethro to make other visits, that I might sound him out. I did not press him when he came here last night. I talked in friendly fashion and invited him back this evening.

“When I discovered Vincent, my new secretary, eavesdropping at the study door, Nethro aided me in trapping him. Then Alfred came with the news that Detective Cardona was here from headquarters.”

Dreblin paused emphatically. He looked at Cardona; then turned to The Shadow.

“A terrifying thought struck me,” confided the magnate, in a serious tone. “Suppose Vincent happened to be a tool of Nethro’s. Perhaps Nethro had aided in the capture to lull me. But Cardona, a detective from headquarters, would be a man whom I would admit.

“Suppose he proved to be a fake. Another aid of Nethro’s. The two would overpower me, release Vincent, and I would be in their toils. I decided to capture this new visitor, also. Then I would be able to deal with Nethro alone. I would make him talk. If Vincent proved honest; if Cardona were the real Cardona, they would hear and testify in my behalf. But if they were merely accomplices of Nethro, I would be holding them helpless.

“So I produced a revolver and forced Nethro to aid me in the capture of Cardona. Then I was ready to deal with Nethro, when the bookcase opened. I saw you, Mr. Cranston, and thought certainly that you must be in league with Nethro. That is why I attacked you.”

DREBLIN ended his explanation. He waited for questions. Before any came, Nethro put in a quick remark.

“When you socked Dreblin, Mr. Cranston,” declared the investigator, “I couldn’t figure who you were. My job was to get Cardona loose, knowing who he was. That’s why I grabbed Cardona’s gun. I wanted to cover you, and then release Cardona. So he would know that I was on the level.

“Don’t be fooled by this talk of Dreblin’s. I’ve got an alibi. He hasn’t. He’s the murderer right enough!”

A snort came from Dreblin. The magnate towered to his feet. He shook a huge fist in Nethro’s direction.

“You say I have no alibi?” stormed Dreblin. “That is where I tricked you, Nethro. I deliberately misstated facts to you. Listen to this, Mr. Cranston.”

Dropping his fist, the magnate lowered his fierce rumble.

“At half past five on the day of the murders,” stated Dreblin, “three friends called here to see me. Doctor Parry, the well-known physician; Talbot Read, head of a large shipping agency; Bernard Coyle, a present candidate for a municipal judgeship.

“That was after the hour of Lentz’s murder; but it was before either Morath or Frieth were slain. All of my three friends can agree as to the time of their arrival. I went out with them and we reached the Hotel Goliath before six o’clock. We purposely postponed dinner until six-thirty.

“I remained with those three men until twenty minutes of nine, when I left for my home to keep my appointment with Nethro. That was one reason why I was particularly angry when he did not appear.

“There is my alibi, gentlemen. I am not the murderer whom you seek. Mine is not a matter of minutes, like Nethro’s. It is a matter of hours. Proof conclusive that I had no hand in the deaths of three unfortunate men!”

Dreblin’s voice had risen to a triumphant blare. His tones ended abruptly.

Joe Cardona sat puzzled. The detective was positive that Kip Nethro had spoken the truth; now he was convinced that Philo Dreblin had also stated facts.

Harry Vincent, too, was puzzled. The Shadow’s agent found himself in a whirl of conflicting situations. He was familiar with the circumstances surrounding the three murders, and this elimination of Nethro and Dreblin left the whole scene blank.

ONLY The Shadow was unperturbed. Calm in his guise of Lamont Cranston, he retained his slight but emphatic smile. For The Shadow, when he had come here tonight, had held three possibilities in mind.

Nethro as the murderer was one. That was finished, now that the man with the gray overcoat had spoken. Nethro, as a dupe was the second; but only Dreblin could have duped Nethro and Dreblin had provided an alibi.

Nethro as a chance visitor to the murder scenes was the only possibility left. With that fact determined, The Shadow had a clear trail ahead. He was at the beginning of that path which he had left until last.

The Shadow had been wise in his choice. For the truth of murder, as he saw it, involved a scheme of almost incredible cunning. The Shadow knew the answer to crime — the only answer that could fit the circumstances.

But even The Shadow had held back from the coming trail until after he had disposed of other possibilities. For he had doubted the existence of a supercrook remarkable enough to have planned the amazing chain of murder.

The Shadow had gained the truth he wanted. He knew motives; he knew methods; most of all, he knew how to reach the evil master with whom he now must deal.

If his agents, Clyde Burke and Cliff Marsland, had already accomplished their mission of bagging Al Sycher, The Shadow would soon have the testimony that would lay the whole trail open to the law. Still maintaining his guise of Lamont Cranston, The Shadow could step out and leave the rest to Joe Cardona.

But at the very moment that The Shadow planned such a step, the telephone began to ring upon Dreblin’s desk. The Shadow’s thin smile remained fixed. He knew the reason for that coming call.

Agents must have failed. An accomplice of the supercrook had slipped their grasp. The Shadow knew that the coming quest, brief though it might be, was one which still needed his hand.

The Shadow, alone, could press the scales to bring the balance on the side of justice.