The Silent Death

CHAPTER IX. THE NEXT MOVE

THE next day found Professor Folcroft Urlich seated at a little desk in the small office above his laboratory. The cunning-faced scientist was reading a newspaper.

Larry Ricordo, sullen in demeanor, was standing by the window, looking out toward the old deserted mansion that obscured all view of the round-shaped building in which the two men were located.

“Well,” remarked Urlich, “it appears that something caused our trap to fail. This report speaks of the damage wreaked by a mystery explosion in Barnsworth’s apartment. It tells of no casualties, however.”

“The Shadow is too smart, professor,” growled Ricordo. “It’s a sure bet he went into that place. Maybe the works blew before he got there.”

“Impossible,” responded Urlich. “If you followed instructions as I gave them, Ricordo, there could have been no premature results. You are right when you attribute cleverness to The Shadow. Something must have made him suspect that envelope.”

“I fixed the place the way you told me,” asserted Ricordo. “The Shadow is a fox — that’s all. I don’t see how we can get him unless we gang him. That isn’t such a hot idea, either. Others have flopped when they tried it.”

Professor Urlich chortled. He turned again to the newspaper report, and finally laid the sheet aside.

“At least my explosion showed the power that I anticipated,” he said. “It was the noise of the glass from the breaking window that attracted people to the spot shortly after the event occurred. The police, as usual, are baffled. They probably did not see any significance in the fragments which were left from the photoelectric cell.”

“That was a great idea, professor,” admitted Ricordo. “I was sold on it when you gave me the demonstration in the laboratory. I figured that if anything could get The Shadow, that would be it. But the thing flivved, just the same. Where do we stand now?”

“Exactly where we were before,” responded Urlich, “but with more to our credit. We have proved my theory of how The Shadow learned of the plot on Alfred Sartain’s life. We have learned conclusively that Slips Harbeck is being watched.”

“Yes,” blurted Ricordo suddenly, “and I figure I know the guy that was watching him. I called Slips this morning, professor.”

“Ah!’, exclaimed Urlich. “What did he have to say?”

“He told me that a gazebo named Cliff Marsland was sticking near the room where he was listening on the phone.”

“Who is Cliff Marsland?”

“A tough baby who works pretty much on his own. Did a stretch up in the Big House — Sing Sing, you know — and since then he’s been playing a pretty smooth game. I’ve met the guy; always wondered why he was flush with plenty of dough. I’ve got the answer now.”

“You think he may be The Shadow?”

“No. He couldn’t be. The Shadow was operating while Marsland was still in stir. But I figure he’s working for The Shadow. If we have to give The Shadow the works in a big fight, we’ll look out for Cliff Marsland, too. It might be a good plan to bump off Marsland now.”

“Again you are wrong,” interjected Urlich. “This discovery merely puts us on a better footing. The Shadow is watching Slips Harbeck, our agent. Very well; we, too, can watch Cliff Marsland. The Shadow hopes that through Slips he may reach us. We can plan to reach The Shadow through Marsland.”

“That sounds good, professor. But you’ve got me buffaloed. What’s the next move?”

“To again snare The Shadow. Consider this, Ricordo. The Shadow may believe that we were ignorant of the fact that Wesley Barnsworth was not in New York. He may think that he discovered the trap that was set for Barnsworth. Obviously, The Shadow departed after the explosion. He knew that Slips Harbeck and his men would not approach while the police were there. Therefore, I intend to repeat my experiment.”

“You mean with the same kind of a trap?”

“No. A different one. I would not use the same plan twice. There will be work for you again, Ricordo; but it will be more simple. Since I observed Alfred Sartain in his studio, I have been perfecting a new device. I shall show it to you and explain its purpose later.”

“But if you miss out again—”

“I do not expect to miss. Nevertheless, I am prepared. You understand the subtlety of my methods, Ricordo. You are gradually learning their diversity. My ways are legion. We are getting closer to The Shadow with each move. His death will be the ultimate result. Come.”

THE scientist led the way down the spiral stairway. The two men entered the laboratory. The round room was illuminated by daylight that came through the ample skylights around the outer circle. Two men were at work by high benches.

“My experiments always continue,” remarked the professor. “These men obey every instruction that I give them.”

“You can trust them?” inquired Ricordo.

“Why not?” asked the scientist. “They are foreigners. They do not speak English. Each of them — Sanoja and Rasch are their names — is a criminal. I brought them to America after a trip abroad. They are wanted by police in Europe. They are forced to rely entirely upon me.”

Urlich approached the man whom he had called Sanoja. The professor spoke in a foreign tongue, and the workman answered him. Urlich turned to Ricordo.

“Sanoja is not quite ready with the device that I invented,” said the scientist. “We shall have to wait a short while. In the meantime, let us go below. I have not shown you what I have downstairs.”

Larry Ricordo repressed the curiosity that immediately seized his mind. He knew that there must be a large chamber beneath this one — a round room within the circular passage that they had followed upon their arrival at Professor Urlich’s domain. He wondered if it could be another laboratory.

This upstairs room, with its collection of huge crucibles, cauldrons, and giant test tubes, was amazing enough to Larry Ricordo. The gang lord had not been able to imagine what lay below. Now he was to observe.

They went down the spiral staircase at the end of the room. They did not stop when they reached the level of the ground floor. Still moving downward through the metal cylinder, they reached an inner doorway a dozen feet below. Professor Urlich pressed the barrier, and brought Ricordo into a dimly lighted room.

LARRY RICORDO blinked and looked about him. The illumination came from indirect lights. It showed that they stood within a large round pit, like the center of a coliseum. The analogy was more pronounced, due to the presence of a balcony that circled entirely around the room.

A low rail, with metal posts supporting it, made the balcony a gallery. Here people could stand and view the pit. Professor Urlich pointed across the room toward the front of the building.

“One enters the balcony from there,” he explained. “Coming through the outer doors, one sees a door ahead. It leads to the balcony. A very natural course to follow.”

Urlich cackled as he spoke. Larry Ricordo felt uneasy. His feet were upon metal plates — a peculiarity he had noticed on the first floor. But it was not this factor, nor the presence of the balcony, that troubled him the most. The gang leader’s eyes were attracted to the center of the room.

There he observed the strangest device that he had ever seen. It was a huge machine, different from anything that Larry believed could exist. The odd device, which measured a dozen feet in each direction, was mounted upon a heavy base, and was supported by posts fitted with rubber insulators. From it extended insulated wires that disappeared into the metal floor.

Glistening wheels, flat disks of shiny metal, together with large glass tubes and other pieces of mechanism, gained the gang leader’s full attention. Ricordo noted a control box at the side of the machine.

“What is it?” he questioned, in an awed tone.

“An electric-ray device,” responded Urlich, with a smile. “Designed to deliver death.”

“You mean it’s like the hot seat — up at the Big House—”

“If you are referring to the electric chair at Sing Sing prison, I can assure you that your analogy is partly correct. The electric chair is designed, however, to kill only its occupant. This invention of mine will slay at a distance.”

“How far?”

“Within the radius of its electrified circles. At present, it will kill only those who are within the circular corridors or who are close to this building. The metal plates receive the current. Watch.”

The professor went to the control box. Ricordo stood beside him. Urlich swung a switch. The big machine began to crackle. Long, snapping flashes of miniature lightning jumped back and forth across the top of the complicated machine.

Ricordo, nervy though he was, shrank away and stared at myriad sparks that flashed along the balcony rail.

Professor Urlich swung back the switch. His cackling laugh replaced the buzz of the machine. Larry Ricordo sniffed the ozone with which the atmosphere was now charged.

“When I first designed the machine,” explained the professor, “I had a small platform mounted beside it.

The only sphere of influence was the floor on which we are now standing. I placed cats — dogs— other animals upon this floor. They were killed instantly.

“Then I extended the zones. The balcony — the outer corridor— finally the portico. These colored lights” — the speaker pointed to a row of unilluminated incandescents — “are for each zone. They tell which portions of the ground floor happen to be occupied.”

“But we are standing on metal,” objected Ricordo. “You say you used this floor. Why are we safe?”

“Each zone is separate,” explained the professor. “There are strips of insulation between. When I extended my experiments to the outer circles, I merely disconnected this one.”

“You have three circles now—”

“Yes, and I shall tell you why. I learned that each circle threw a killing power outside its boundaries. The greater the circle, the greater the effect. It was only a few feet at first; now the sphere of influence extends a dozen yards beyond this building!

“With a machine much larger than this one; with a circle a thousand feet in diameter, I estimate that I could slay all persons within a radius of one mile!”

“It would be a big job to rig up an arrangement like that.”

“Of course. But in the meantime” — the scientist’s eyes gleamed wickedly — “this building is completely protected by silent death. Should an enemy venture here—”

“You mean if The Shadow should try to attack you!”

“Yes. He would come to his certain doom. I have other lights upstairs. We watch them constantly. That is why I have said that I would welcome a visit from The Shadow. But do not look for it, Ricordo.

“Sanoja is ready for us now. I shall view the device that he has made for my approval. If it is exactly as he designed it, we shall be ready to lure The Shadow to another trap of doom.”

THE professor wheeled and walked back toward the cylinder which housed the spiral stairway. Larry Ricordo shuddered. Hardened criminal that he was, the amazing schemes of death designed by Professor Folcroft Urlich frightened him.

One last look at the glittering electric-ray machine; then Ricordo ascended at the professor’s heels. Until now the gang leader had not realized the stupendous power of dealing death that Folcroft Urlich possessed.

Doom to The Shadow! It would be a certainty should the black-garbed visitant attempt to penetrate the heart of Professor Urlich’s domain. Yet Larry Ricordo still digested the scientist’s final words.

A new trap for The Shadow. Another subtle scheme in the making. Again, it would be Ricordo’s part to lay the snare that Professor Urlich had designed.

The gang leader grinned. He was confident now. He had a hunch that The Shadow would never even learn of this strange place where Professor Urlich lived.

Some subtle device would soon accomplish an effective result against the one being who blocked the scheme of widespread murder.