The Unseen Killer

CHAPTER III. THE EXPERIMENT

“HERE we are, Cranston.”

The commissioner’s car had pulled up in front of an old, moldy-looking house on the upper East Side.

Brick-fronted, with white steps cracked above a grimy sidewalk, the place did not seem fitting as the abode of a prominent scientist.

Wainwright Barth stared askance as he viewed the grimy windows, where dull light trickled through crimped shades. The commissioner was a man who considered wealth important; and this first sight of Professor Lessep’s house made him lose stock in his preconceived impressions of the inventor.

Standing on the curb, Barth turned a ruddy, beakish face toward Cranston. Staring through pince-nez spectacles, the commissioner voiced a disapproval that sounded much like an apology.

“I’ve never seen this chap,” said Barth. “Heard of him, only. Professor Melrose Lessep. Come to think of it, his reputation is a bit unsavory. However, he may be a genius, and I have promised to attend his experiment. Let us enter.”

Barth rang the doorbell. The barrier was opened by the professor himself. A tall, wild-eyed man, with a huge shock of unkempt white hair, Melrose Lessep appeared deserving of the title “eccentric.” Yet he was keen in recognizing the visitor who stood on his doorstep.

“The commissioner!” exclaimed Lessep, in a crackly voice. “I am right? Yes? And a friend with you. Come in, gentlemen. This way. To my parlor, where the others await.”

Lessep led the way through a dingy hall, then into a musty parlor that had evidently been opened for to-night’s event. One dozen men were gathered in the little room; among them, Findlay Warlock and Marryat Darring. It was Warlock who sprang forward to greet Barth. The professor made a bow and retired into the hall.

“The laboratory is in there,” explained Warlock wheezily, pointing to a door at the rear of the room. “The professor’s assistant is busy arranging the apparatus. They will call us when they are ready.”

Barth nodded. The presence of men of prominence offset the drab surroundings. Warlock introduced Darring. Barth shook hands with enthusiasm. He had heard of Darring, for the man had accomplished remarkable results in handling the affairs of bankrupt corporations. He knew of Darring’s connection with the Centralized Power Corporation.

“Warlock has told me of his misfortunes,” remarked the commissioner. “From his description of the circumstances, it looks like a swindle on the part of the promoters. What is your opinion, Mr. Darring? Have you—”

“Matters are still undecided,” interposed Darring, in a cautious tone. Then, with a glance about him, he made a nudge toward the corner. “I think we have some reporters here to-night. It would be best to keep them off the subject of Centralized Power.”

Barth followed Darring’s gaze. He recognized two men as reporters. He smiled, for he knew them to be newshawks of little consequence. Evidently the morning newspapers had not counted on Lessep’s experiment as good meat for a story.

“Warlock has faith in Lessep’s inventive genius,” explained Darring, in an undertone. “Personally, I think the professor is a faker. He sold impractical turbines to Centralized Power. That is why I am here to-night.

“I hope that Lessep succeeds in this experiment, whatever it is. Warlock calls it ‘solid devisualization’ or something of the sort. The term is new to me. My sympathies are with Warlock, for the failure of Centralized Power has been a blow to him. If he can prove that Lessep is a capable inventor, it will strengthen his position with the stockholders.

“As for the other matter, Warlock has probably told you all the details of the case. Unfortunately, it offers no opportunity for prosecution. Unless” — he broke off, while still keeping his wary eye upon the corner — “ah, here come the reporters. Probably to interview you, commissioner.”

Darring was right. The two reporters had sauntered from the corner. In the accepted journalistic fashion they introduced themselves to the commissioner and began to press him for statements regarding Professor Lessep. Barth pleaded ignorance and replied that he would talk after the experiment.

At that moment, the rear door opened; Professor Lessep stood framed in the brilliant light of the laboratory. Wearing a white gown and beckoning with a scrawny finger, he invited his guests to enter the room beyond.

The reporters headed in that direction. Barth looked for Cranston. Finding his friend close by, the commissioner joined him and they entered the lab.

KEEN eyes gazed from the immobile countenance of Lamont Cranston. The Shadow was prompt to note the arrangement of this room which they had entered. Whatever his reputation, whether genius or madman, Professor Melrose Lessep had certainly fitted up a most remarkable laboratory.

The room was some thirty feet in length. At the near end, where the group had entered, were a dozen folding chairs, arranged against the wall. Beyond were numerous contrivances. Some looked like electric motors of odd design. Others were light projectors of curious shape. One machine appeared to be a squatty camera.

The windows — on the right side of the room — were shuttered. Illumination came from bluish bulbs in the ceiling. At the far end of the room were two doors, both opened. One showed an extension from the rear hallway; the other revealed a little office at the right.

Between the doors, and just beyond the center of the room, was the most striking object in the laboratory. This was an upright cabinet, more than six feet high and three feet square, mounted upon a square base that measured five feet in each direction.

Most curious was the fact that cabinet and base were both constructed almost entirely of glass. The framework alone was of chromium-plated metal. It formed a skeleton in which the sheets of plate glass were set.

The square base, metal rimmed, was mounted upon four slender legs of shining metal. This raised the bottom of the cabinet two feet above the floor. The professor, beckoning, invited all comers to inspect the apparatus. The two reporters led the march.

“Be careful,” warned Lessep, in his crackly tone. He opened the glass door that formed the front of the cabinet. “You may step inside if you please; but remember that the substance is breakable. Be careful.”

While the examination was going on, a young man came from the little office and took his stand beside Professor Lessep. Steadily, with almost indifferent gaze, he looked about at the persons present. This was Miles Crofton. Like the professor, he was wearing a white gown.

“My assistant, Mr. Crofton,” introduced Lessep. “He is to play an important part in to-night’s experiment.

Seat yourselves, gentlemen. Please. We are delayed a trifle already. Please be seated.”

When the group had obeyed the injunction, the professor stood for a moment with quick-blinking eyes.

Then, leaving Crofton by the cabinet, he went to the door that led into the hall. He closed it with a clang that revealed its metal surface. Then, solemnly, Lessep drew a big bolt that locked the door.

He walked to the door of the little office, closed it, and shot a similar bolt. Then he stalked to the door through which the throng had come from the parlor. He closed this barrier, showing a metal inner surface, and pressed home another bolt.

“We must not be disturbed,” chuckled the professor, with a peculiar smile. “That is why I have made the doors fast bolted. When I work herein, with my capable assistant, we keep the doors fast bolted that none may enter.”

The professor walked back to the cabinet, where Crofton was awaiting him. At that moment, a telephone bell began to ring. The sound, coming from beyond the door that led to the little office, was barely audible.

“Shall I answer it, professor?” questioned Crofton.

“No!” returned Lessep, testily. “I do not wish disturbance. Let it continue to ring. It will stop soon. We must make ready with my experiment.”

CROFTON nodded. He and the professor moved two different machines up beside the cabinet.

Looking toward the walls, the witnesses saw a dozen different floor plugs from which current could be supplied. Crofton produced several lengths of wire, each with plugs on both ends. The professor began making attachments. He needed more wires. Crofton brought them.

The telephone ceased ringing before Lessep had completed his arrangements. Wires ran from floor plugs to machines. Others stretched from one machine to corners of the cabinet. The rest were left dangling from the second machine, for later use.

Nodding busily, Lessep decided that everything was ready. He spoke to Crofton. The young man removed his white robe. Underneath, he was wearing an outfit that looked like an aviator’s garb, except for its color, which was black. As Crofton stepped into the cabinet, it was apparent that his shoes were fitted with heavy rubber soles.

The professor produced a helmet. Crofton donned it. Then he put on dark brown gloves, made of thick rubber. Cautiously, he stepped into the exact center of the cabinet. The professor closed the glass door.

The observers could see the man inside.

Lessep pressed a switch on the hooked-up machine. Crackly sounds came from the glass walls of the cabinet. Flickers of light flashed from the connections. The sides of the cabinet and the glass base began to turn misty.

There was something insidious in Professor Lessep’s manner as the old man turned toward his audience.

A profound hush had been created; now it was broken only by the buzz of the motor and the dying crackles from the glass. In a high pitched, fanatical tone, the professor began to speak.

“I have found it!” he exclaimed. “The secret of devisualization! Through this experiment I shall make a solid appear as a vapor. A solid — a living solid!

“Look to that cabinet. What have you seen there? First you have seen glass. Then, inside, a man. What do you see now? A vapor — like steam — a vapor from the air.”

The walls of the cabinet were frosting. Crofton’s form was almost obscured from view. Chuckling, the professor waited until the misted glass had totally hidden his assistant. Then he consulted a clock dial upon the machine.

“You see vapor,” clucked Lessep, turning to the silent group at the end of the room. “That vapor is air, which I have made to show itself by the application of heat. You understand? You see air — which you could not see before — and later you will see that air no longer.

“But a little while ago you saw a man inside the cabinet. You can not see him now. Why? On account of air. Air, which is vapor, surrounding him. I have made a man unseen, by surrounding him with air of a certain sort.

“Now comes my secret” — the professor paused and wisely tapped his forehead — “which I have formulated here in my brain. If air, when like a mist, can hide a solid form, why can not air, when it is no longer mist, still hide that form?

“It is impossible? That is what you would say. But I shall show you different. Far different. The vapor that you see is on the walls of the cabinet only. But the air inside that cabinet is possessed of the same power.

“That air alone will hide the solid form. That air which you can not see! You can not see it — nor can you see what is within it. The vapor has done its part. It is no longer needed. But it will take a while to go. I shall not try your patience by forcing you to wait.”

WITH hurried, almost frenzied speed, the professor bobbed about the cabinet, detaching wires. He turned off the buzzing machine. He attached the connections from the second motor. All the while, the silent watchers were staring at the whitened walls of glass, for the sides of the cabinet had become completely frosted.

Ready, with one hand upon the new motor, Professor Lessep raised his other hand and lifted an impressive forefinger. Leaning forward, prophetic with his garb and hair of white, the old man spoke in his odd, crackling tone.

“He is within that cabinet,” announced the professor. “This man who has been willing to take the risk of my experiment. Science owes much to him — to Miles Crofton. He is a man who has taken great risks; but none to equal this.

“He can come out only by that door which you see in the front. I shall have him open that door; but he must stay within the cabinet. For at this moment, my friends, no living eye could see Miles Crofton. He is devisualized! Within air that hides him and all that he may carry within that space. Not until I use the second process will he come back to view.”

The professor paused. Still holding his fixed position, he turned his eyes toward the cabinet and waited amid complete silence. Then he spoke:

“Open the door of the cabinet.”

A pause. The door trembled. Then, impelled by some force, the white, frosted barrier swung outward.

Staring spectators blinked; the only eyes that were steady were those of The Shadow — the optics that peered from the countenance of Lamont Cranston.

Where the dark-garbed form of a man had been, whiteness alone came to view. The sides, the top, the base of the cabinet — these showed with their coating of thick frost, a solid walled interior.

The cabinet, itself, was empty! Professor Lessep’s fantastic experiment had fulfilled his strange prediction.

Miles Crofton had vanished from human sight!