The Black Hush

CHAPTER IX. THE ROBBERY

INVISIBLE men were moving through thick darkness. While silence still persisted in Thaddeus Harmon’s living room, the invasion of crime was on its way. Issuing from the door of the fire tower, Ping Slatterly and his group of henchmen were coming through the gloom.

The sound of the advance had not reached the group in the penthouse living room. There, Thaddeus Harmon was groping his way to the alarm switch.

Detectives were trying to get results with their flashlights — all in vain. Even these appliances had succumbed to the strange force of the black hush.

A match flickered; its illumination did not carry far. Even the face of the guest who had ignited it was not distinguishable. It needed greater light than that to pierce this thick haze of blackness.

The light came. From the doorway, the glare of a bull’s-eye lantern flashed suddenly into view. Supplied by acetylene, this instrument of illumination brought a strange brilliance throughout the living room. Guests and detectives were staring at the bright spot through a murky atmosphere.

A voice spoke from behind the lantern. Its tones were uttered in a harsh growl that was plainly audible, despite the muffling effect that pervaded the air.

“We’ve got you covered” — Ping Slatterly was talking — “and the first one that moves gets bumped. Do you savvy that? Stick up your mitts!”

Thaddeus Harmon yanked the alarm just as Slatterly spoke. Then the millionaire backed against the wall, with arms upraised. His action was followed promptly by his guests. The detectives, in turn, sullenly obeyed Ping’s command. The suddenness of the attack had caught them completely unprepared.

“We’re not worryin’ about that alarm,” informed Ping, in his harsh voice. “Yank it again, if you want. Try the telephone, too. It won’t do you no good.”

His words were followed by an order to his henchmen. Two roughly garbed invaders stepped into the glare of the acetylene light. Between them, they were carrying a double-handled bag. These men were masked. It was impossible to identify them as they moved straight toward the cabinet against the wall.

While the detectives remained helpless under the threat of unseen guns, one of the mobsters opened the top of the cabinet. Grimy hands dipped into the large jewel chest. Out came sparkling gems which were dropped into the bag in glittering array.

THADDEUS HARMON forgot caution. The sight of his valuable collection of precious stones, taken openly before his eyes, was too much for the maddened millionaire. He made no attempt to attack the robbers, but he did follow the advice which Ping Slatterly had suggested.

Seizing the telephone, Harmon raised the instrument from its hook and tried to establish a connection.

The experiment convinced him that the leader of the invaders had spoken the truth. The telephone was dead.

Ping Slatterly laughed. His workers were completing their job in rapid time. The top of the cabinet descended with a thump that sounded muffled in the gloom. The gang leader saw a detective shift uneasily. He growled an order.

A revolver spoke through the darkness. Its suppressed roar was a warning. A bullet flattened itself against the wall above the detective’s head. The threat was sufficient.

“Remember” — Slatterly’s tone followed the abbreviated echoes of the revolver shot — “the first guy that moves gets drilled. We’re leavin’ you — but we’ll be back quick enough if anybody tries to make trouble. It won’t be safe to try anythin’ until the lights come on again. Forget these sparklers if you know what’s good for you. Savvy?”

The men were backing away from the cabinet. One was lugging the bag; the other had a revolver in his hand, and was turning it menacingly in all directions.

Thaddeus Harmon groaned at the thought of his plight.

This unexplainable situation was one for which he had not provided. Fully did he realize the helplessness of the present conditions. The elimination of light throughout the apartment house would mean nothing to the men stationed on the ground floor. There was no reason for them to suspect trouble in the penthouse unless they received a summons by telephone or heard the specially wired alarm.

The invaders had come from the fire tower. They would depart by the same route. In this amazing blackness, which only the acetylene torch seemed capable of penetrating, they could make a swift escape. Already they had captured the jewels. Half a million dollars was slipping away unhindered!

Pursuit?

Harmon realized that it would be impossible until after the crooks had made good their escape. They could easily barricade the door of the fire tower behind them. A hurried flight down the stairway of the tower — that would conclude the raid.

The millionaire knew that the elevator service, like lights, telephone and alarm had been interrupted.

Harmon and his detectives were trapped here in the penthouse. Until the black hush ended, they could not move.

PING SLATTERLY, still out of sight behind the glare of the acetylene light, was emitting a gloating chuckle. He knew that his warning would be heeded. No one would dare move until complete illumination returned. It would be suicidal, even after the acetylene lamp had been extinguished. Ping’s threat of lurkers in the dark was too potent to forget.

Events had passed swiftly since the invaders had arrived. The purloining of the gems had been a rapid action. Less than four minutes had elapsed since the black hush had fallen, up to the time of the warning shot that had ended all thoughts of resistance, or attempted recovery of the stolen wealth.

Ping Slatterly had estimated that the descent through the fire tower would require no more than four additional minutes. This allowed for a complete escape before anyone outside of the penthouse could possibly know that trouble had occurred here.

Until the black hush was lifted, these people would be helpless. Knowledge of that fact was the only reason why Ping had desisted from murder. This fiendish gang leader would gladly have massacred the helpless detectives, but he was under orders to concentrate upon the removal of the gems.

All that he wanted was a good excuse to shoot some helpless victims. The warning shot had shown the tendency of Ping Slatterly’s evil brain toward killing.

Giving the command to retire, Ping began to back away from the door of the penthouse living room. With his men crouching backward with him, the malefactor engineered a steady retreat until he was standing close beside the door of the fire tower.

A growl from a henchman told Ping that the barrier was open. The way was ready for the swift escape.

Ping Slatterly paused. He rasped an order for the others to stand by.

The glare from the acetylene searchlight still illuminated the entire living room. Through a peculiar, dusky haze, faces were visible in strained whiteness. Frightened guests — sullen detectives — Ping viewed them with disdain.

The gang leader’s gaze turned toward Thaddeus Harmon. The millionaire, alone uncowed, wore a look of defiance. His expression aroused Ping Slatterly’s complete antagonism. The gang leader sneered in the gloom.

Instructions flashed through Ping’s hostile mind. He had been told to get the jewels; to make an effective getaway; and to stay his gun until its use proved necessary. Murder was Ping Slatterly’s forte; he saw good occasion for it now.

Only one man among the helpless people in the room seemed capable of planning action against the crooks. That one was Thaddeus Harmon. Why not eliminate him?

In moments of quick thought, Ping saw the advantage. To Harmon, the jewels were of prime importance; to the others, the welfare of the millionaire was the chief consideration.

If Thaddeus Harmon fell, riddled by bullets, a second before the acetylene light made its exit, the only thoughts of the remaining people would be the fear of death. That terror would persist; and when the penthouse lights returned, confusion would occur at the sight of Thaddeus Harmon’s slain body.

With cool deliberation, the evil gang leader raised his revolver. Ready to loose unexpected death, he held the brilliant lantern steadily in his left hand, taking aim with the weapon in his right.

“Hold it,” growled Ping to his clustered companions. “Wait until I cut loose with this smoke wagon. Then we’ll scram.”

With final deliberation, Ping Slatterly belittled the consequences. He could explain matters to his associates. Murder did not matter, so long as the robbery had been completed. Success would stifle criticism.

Thaddeus Harmon’s life was hanging in the balance. The crime of death was to follow lawless entry and theft. Ping Slatterly gloated as he prepared to slay the helpless millionaire. One minute more; then the enveloping shroud of the black hush would close upon a scene of murder!