The Unseen Killer

CHAPTER XIX. DEATH RESUMES

THE new note from the Unseen Killer had specified a repetition of the procedure that he had previously prescribed. Wallace Norgan was to place all the required funds in Findlay Warlock’s safe or suffer the penalty of death.

Worried, Norgan had decided to go through with it. Commissioner Barth had agreed not to interfere with the Unseen Killer’s action. Shortly before eight thirty, the commissioner had arrived at Warlock’s accompanied by Joe Cardona.

Findlay Warlock and Marryat Darring were already there. Norgan arrived very soon, under the guard of six detectives, headed by Markham. With him, Norgan had a box that was larger than the one which he and Amboy had brought.

Norgan opened the box to display actual securities. He removed them from the box in bundles and carefully arranged the stacks inside the open safe. Others stood away, watching him. The task completed, Norgan himself closed the safe and turned the knob.

The group went downstairs, leaving Joe Cardona in charge under the same conditions as before. No message had been required in an envelope. Warlock had not changed the combination. Doors to the study were left open. At nine o’clock they were closed. At nine fifteen, they were reopened.

It was almost nine thirty. That was the time specified for a return to the study. While waiting for the dead line, Commissioner Barth began to pace about. He stopped in the middle of the living room to eye the others.

Warlock was seated placidly before the fire. Darring was leaning against the wall. Norgan was nervously resting in a corner. Barth made an anxious comment.

“I left word for Cranston,” he declared. “At the Cobalt Club. I wanted him to be here. I wonder what is keeping him?”

Barth would have been amazed had he known. To-night, Lamont Cranston had been temporarily nonexistent. But The Shadow had been in action. He had found it more important to visit Ninth Avenue than to come to Findlay Warlock’s.

The Shadow knew that Norgan would be safe, so long as he actually delivered the funds. Moreover, The Shadow knew that Norgan would not welch to-night. The Unseen Killer was too potent an enemy to bait for a third time.

Nine thirty. Time for the doors to open above. Wallace Norgan, suddenly restless, arose and walked from the living room. Barth had not posted a detective in the hall to-night. Norgan started upstairs.

“Call him back,” ordered Barth, suddenly, as he glanced toward the clock. “It’s not after nine thirty. We must not clip the time too close.”

Marryat Darring responded. He strode from the room and ascended the stairs in Norgan’s wake. When he reached the open door of the study, he found Norgan comparing watches with Cardona.

“Nine thirty,” announced Norgan. “I have followed the conditions. I am going in.”

Before Cardona could stop him, Norgan pressed past and hurried into the study. He crossed the room and reached the wall safe. He began to unlock it. Warlock had openly mentioned the combination at the time the funds had been placed within.

Cardona had followed Norgan. Darring was close behind Joe. They saw the door come open. A snarl from Norgan. The wall safe was empty! As with the black box, the real wealth had been removed.

WILDLY, Norgan began to reach about inside the safe, pressing his hands against the walls, bottom, top, and sides. He seemed to be looking for something other than his purloined wealth.

Had the man gone mad? Cardona looked at Darring, who shook his head in a puzzled manner.

Norgan wheeled. Excitedly, he pushed his way past the other men. He started for the door; when he reached the hall, he began to shout for the commissioner. Never pausing, he dashed down the stairs, heading for the living room.

Darring turned and hurried in the same direction, anxious to know what had happened.

Cardona was about to follow; then he paused to bark instructions at the dicks who were stationed outside the doors. The Unseen Killer had grabbed a bundle of big dough. Joe did not intend to meet with new criticism for negligence. It was bad enough to have had Norgan in the study, opening the safe on his own. But, after all, the cash had been Norgan’s.

Downstairs, Wallace Norgan had reached the living room. His square-jawed face was hideous with rage.

There was no semblance of fear remaining. Wainwright Barth stood amazed. So did Findlay Warlock.

“The money is gone!” shouted Norgan. “All my wealth! The safe is empty, commissioner. I have been tricked!”

“Tricked?” questioned Barth. “You knew what happened to the box you put there before. The Unseen Killer—”

“A double cross,” sneered Norgan. “The Unseen Killer is not alone in this game. Some one is working with him. You can arrest his pal.”

“His pal?”

“Yes.” Norgan pointed to Warlock. “There’s the culprit. He knows what happened to my millions.”

“I?” parried Warlock.

“You!” accused Norgan.

“What do you mean, Norgan?” quizzed Barth. “Have you found some evidence?”

“No,” jeered Norgan, “I’ve lost some. The case and securities weren’t all that I put in that box. I put in something else— unnoticed — something that proves my—”

“Look out!” gasped Warlock, pointing.

Norgan swung about. Barth turned. The shining muzzle of a revolver had come between the edge of a curtain and the side of the doorway. Before Norgan could spring forward, the gun belched flame.

Wallace Norgan sagged. Like men stricken with paralysis, Barth and Warlock stood motionless, stunned by this new tragedy. The gun barrel was pulled from sight. The only evidence of its echoing shot was the form of Wallace Norgan, dead upon the floor.

THEN came a shout from beyond the curtains. From the foot of the stairway, out in the gloomy hall, some one was putting up a cry for aid. The voice was that of Marryat Darring. It carried triumph despite its tone of partial terror.

“Help me!” was Darring’s call. “Help me! I’ve got him! The Unseen Killer!”

A gun thudded on the floor as Barth and Warlock sprang past Norgan’s body. Outside the doorway, the two men stood astounded. So did another witness — Joe Cardona, coming down the stairs.

Marryat Darring was engaged in a desperate struggle with an invisible foe. With hands clutching at a throat that could not be seen. Darring was lurching back and forth. His body twisted, his legs sagged.

With a sudden choke, Darring dropped one hand to his own throat. He tugged to release invisible fingers.

He succeeded. Throwing his arms about a form that no one could view, he shouted a warning to Joe Cardona, who was suddenly springing down the steps.

“His gun!” exclaimed Darring. “I can see it — where he dropped it— on the stairs—”

Joe stopped suddenly to reach for the weapon. At that instant, Darring went hurtling sidewise. His hands dropped; his arms spread out. He slumped and tottered under the force of an invisible blow. With a futile clutch for an escaping enemy, he sprawled on the floor.

Cardona was blocking the stairway. Barth and Warlock were in the hallway that led to the back of the house. The one opening was the front door, that stood wide. That was by order of the Unseen Killer, part of the conditions that he had proposed.

“Get him!” cried Darring, coming to hands and knees. “That’s the way he went!”

Darring grabbed for the gun on the floor. Cardona yanked a revolver also. Darring fired through the front door. Joe did the same. They listened. There was no evidence of success. Detectives came dashing in from the street.

Darring came tipsily to his feet. He was weakened by his struggle. Still gasping, he spoke of the encounter that had been his lot.

“I–I heard the shot!” he exclaimed. “Just as I came down the stairs. I–I sprang for the curtain. He locked with me. I could feel his hands, his wrists, the gun. I wrenched at the revolver that I felt. It fell to the floor.”

“I saw the gun,” nodded Warlock, “when the Unseen Killer fired the shot.”

“I saw the flash,” added Barth. “I think—”

He paused as some one entered. It was Lamont Cranston. He had arrived just in time to hear this testimony. Barth greeted his friend and began to give the details of the crime that had occurred. Cranston nodded, solemn-faced.

“The mystery is deeper than ever!” concluded Barth. “Miles Crofton is a fiend. Unless we find him, the Unseen Killer, we shall have no end to murder in the city—”

The commissioner broke off as a detective entered to hand a note to Joe Cardona. The ace opened it; while Barth stood puzzled, he saw an expression of amazement come over Cardona’s face. Excitedly, Joe turned and handed the note to the commissioner.

“What is this, Cardona?” demanded Barth, before looking at the paper.

“A message, commissioner,” returned Joe, grimly. “Read it. A message from The Shadow!”