THE SECOND MESSAGE

Two policemen approached the commissioner’s car as it stopped before Louis Glenn’s apartment house. Cardona spoke to them as he alighted.

One of the policemen pointed to a taxicab. It was the car in which Glenn had died.

“The driver found him,” said the officer. “He called the doorman. They took Glenn up into his apartment.

“They’re up there now with the doctor. Glenn was dead before they got him out of the cab.”

Two more policemen were in charge of Glenn’s apartment. They were watching the cab driver, the doorman, and Glenn’s valet. The body of Louis Glenn lay on the bed, its arms doubled, and its face distorted. A physician was making an examination.

While Fredericks spoke with the physician, Cardona began to quiz the witnesses. Weston and Biscayne watched in admiration while the businesslike detective made pointed notations.

Within a few minutes, Cardona had traced Glenn’s movements up until the time of his death. Carrying notes, the detective went to a telephone in another room, to call the Merrimac Club, where Glenn had been that evening.

He was gone for fifteen minutes. Then he called to the commissioner. Weston and Biscayne joined Cardona.

Seated in Louis Glenn’s sumptuous living room, Cardona gave a brief but definite summary of his findings.

“Glenn went out of town two weeks ago,” he declared. “He was in the Middle West — due back here tonight. He went directly from the train to the Merrimac Club, where he has a private room.

“He had made the trip East specially to attend a fraternity dinner that was being held tonight.

“He was going back to Chicago on a midnight train. So he left the club early to come here.

“There are a number of persons whom I shall have to question. I wanted to get the outline of Glenn’s activities right away — and I did that by telephone.

“Glenn was met by several of his friends when he came into the club at six o’clock. Some one was evidently with him from then on. He seemed in good spirits and in perfect health.

“He ate the same meal as the others, and no one else has complained of any ill effects. When Glenn left, he stepped into a cab that the doorman called. The driver is known down there.

“I have checked the time, and I figure that they made a quick trip here. The driver saw Glenn doubled up on the floor when he reached out to open the door for his passenger.

“Whatever happened to Glenn took place while he was on his way here. Yet he was alone when he left the club, and alone when the cab reached this apartment house.

“I intend to hold the driver for further questioning. I have a list of names here” — he showed the paper — “and I’m going to quiz these men.”

Doctor Fredericks entered as Cardona finished speaking. The physician’s face was both solemn and perplexed.

“Glenn unquestionably died from the effects of a most virulent poison,” declared Fredericks.

“I thought at first it might have been an overdose of some medicine or a narcotic, but now I regard those possibilities as being out of the question. What I should like to learn is how the poison was administered.

“An autopsy should reveal its nature, but it may not give a clew to how the dose was taken.”

Accompanied by Biscayne, Cardona descended to the street, and made a thorough inspection of the taxicab, which was being watched by one of the policemen. The search revealed nothing.

Back in the apartment, Cardona made a call to headquarters. He left orders there, then started a systematic search of Louis Glenn’s abode. He found nothing that excited his suspicion.

He questioned the valet, and obtained information regarding Glenn’s habits. The man stated that his employer had never, to his knowledge, indulged in narcotics, nor did he use liquor.

This statement was not only in keeping with the inspection which Cardona had made; it was also corroborated by a telephone call from Glenn’s physician, who had been notified of the death.

Cardona learned that Louis Glenn had seldom used medicine of any description; that he had been in excellent health and particularly proud of his physical condition. He was a cigarette smoker, but mild in that habit.

During the search, Cardona came across some empty boxes that had contained cigarettes. These were of an imported variety, a blend which Glenn constantly used according to the valet.

Inspecting the articles in Glenn’s pockets, Cardona discovered a package of the same cigarettes. There were three cigarettes in the box. There had originally been ten, packed in two layers of five each.

Cardona kept the package. He also took Glenn’s handkerchief, expressing the belief that it might have been moistened with some liquid containing poison.

Cardona was seeking facts. He could not find them. When he had satisfied himself that he could accomplish no more at the apartment, he left for the Merrimac Club, to investigate there.

IT was after midnight, and Commissioner Weston was driving homeward with his friend, Professor Biscayne.

“What do you make of these deaths?” was Weston’s question.

“Both are baffling,” declared Biscayne. “This man Cardona is a worker. He may hit upon a successful clew before he has finished.”

“He obtains results,” said Weston. “It is the first time I have seen him at work. His method is all fact — he uses theory only as a follow-up.

“In the case of Harshaw, he intends to find out what has become of Homer Briggs, the old man’s servant. He wants to know whom the old man regarded as enemies.

“There, he is dealing with the death of a man who was eccentric. It will be hard for him to establish facts at their face value.

“But this case of Glenn is entirely different. Here is a man who was evidently well liked and prosperous. He has apparently fallen at the hand of some enemy. Everything about Glenn seems normal.”

“So far as deductive reasoning is concerned,” said Biscayne, “neither case is sufficiently developed to require it. You have said, yourself, commissioner, that Detective Cardona obtains results. I do not doubt it.

“By gathering many facts, he can pick those which appear pertinent to the case. One simple discovery may lead to the end of the trail.

“However” — Biscayne’s tone became thoughtful — “the necessary facts may be totally hidden. We have seen two cases of what appear to be deliberate murder. We cannot be sure in either one.

“Sometimes men are killed by mistake. I am anxious to watch Cardona as he progresses. At this stage, I cannot help him; in fact, I am quite apt to hinder him. The work he is doing now does not appeal to me.

“I am more interested in the study of the facts themselves. To me, it is fascinating to take the details of a crime — particularly murder — to know that the elusive clew is among them, and to seek it by the pure process of deduction.”

“Exactly!” exclaimed Weston. “I told Cardona, to-day, that that was his one failing — an inability to resort to scientific deduction when all other methods are insufficient. He claims that he has hunches—”

“Intuitive deductions,” interposed Biscayne with a smile.

“—but,” continued Weston, “from his past record, I have seen that he goes wide of the mark when pure theory is involved. Take, for example, the case of the man he calls The Shadow.”

“The Shadow?” echoed Biscayne.

“Yes,” said Weston. “Cardona seems to believe in the existence of a superman called The Shadow — a terror of the underworld.”

“The Shadow,” observed Biscayne, “is the name adopted by a man who makes radio announcements. I have heard him over the air — he has a weird, uncanny laugh.”

“Well,” declared Weston, “Cardona has taken care of that. He actually believes that there is a connection between the radio announcer and the strange being who moves by night.”

“Not really!” exclaimed Biscayne. “That is too absurd, especially for a man so attentive to detail as Detective Cardona—”

“I mean it, Biscayne,” affirmed the commissioner. “Cardona claims that he has received mysterious information pertaining to certain cases which he has handled.

“He tells me that he has heard telephoned messages, uttered in that same weird voice. He says that he has encountered a man in black, but has never been able to discover his identity.”

“THAT is excusable, commissioner,” said Biscayne, in an indulgent tone. “We might almost regard it as a form of superstition with Cardona.

“You know, a great many people are so unimaginative that when they meet with the simplest facts that seem unexplainable, they seize upon the theory which is closest at hand, and none can shake them from it.”

“You have described Cardona,” declared Weston. “That form of susceptibility appears to be his weakness.

“When you first talked to me, a few months ago, about the higher methods of crime detection, I was extremely anxious to experiment along those lines.

“In Cardona, I have found the ideal man — from the practical standpoint. His records show that he utilizes facts to the utmost.

“You will have every opportunity to observe his methods. If he encounters difficulties that he cannot solve by his usual procedure, you can then make suggestions.

“Naturally, my first wish is that both these crimes may speedily be laid upon the guilty persons. Therefore, I hope that Cardona has immediate success.

“At the same time, it would intrigue me greatly if your cooperation should become necessary.”

“Particularly,” remarked Biscayne, “if one or both of these deaths should involve the man whom Cardona calls The Shadow.”

“Not The Shadow,” corrected Weston. “Say, rather, a man — criminal or otherwise — who might happen to appear upon the scene without revealing his identity.

“Should that occur, Biscayne, I shall give immediate orders to pursue him. But I feel convinced that Cardona’s ideas regarding such a person are purely misconceptions.”

The car had arrived at Biscayne’s home. After bidding the professor good night, the police commissioner rode to his own residence, feeling satisfied that the next day would bring interesting developments.

Biscayne, in leaving, had promised to call at Weston’s office the first thing in the morning. By that time, perhaps, Cardona would have more facts.

IT was nine o’clock the following day when Weston reached his office. His idea about Cardona’s activity was not a mistaken one. The detective had called up nearly an hour before, to leave word that he would be at the commissioner’s office before ten o’clock.

While Weston was awaiting Cardona’s arrival, a secretary entered to state that Professor Biscayne wished to see the police commissioner.

Biscayne entered, carrying a copy of the morning newspaper. Its report of the two murders were somewhat meager. Commissioner Weston had read the full accounts.

When Biscayne inquired if Cardona had discovered new data, Weston explained that the detective would arrive shortly. In the meantime, he produced the letter which had proclaimed the death of S. H., and gave it to Biscayne to examine.

“We believe that it refers to Silas Harshaw,” declared Weston. “That is Cardona’s belief. I feel that his opinion is correct.”

“It may be,” replied Biscayne quietly. “It is another evidence of Cardona’s method. He chooses the simplest and most direct explanation that he can obtain from a fact.

“This letter states that a man designated as S. H. has died. The initials of Silas Harshaw are S. H. Therefore, it seems to fit. Yet I do not think it would be wise to be too sure on this point.”

Scarcely had Biscayne finished speaking before Cardona himself was ushered into the office.

He had evidently arrived in great haste, but he curbed his impatience when the commissioner began to speak. Weston pointed to the letter which Biscayne held.

“We were just discussing this letter, Cardona,” said Weston. “I was telling Professor Biscayne that we thought S. H. must surely mean Silas Harshaw. Biscayne is doubtful—”

“I should not be surprised,” interposed Biscayne, “if this letter did actually refer to Silas Harshaw. But, theoretically, we cannot accept that belief on the evidence of the letter alone. It may be purely a coincidence.

“I suppose, Cardona, that you may have found some tangible fact about this letter that made you definitely believe it referred to Harshaw?”

“I had a hunch,” replied Cardona. “I told you that much yesterday, commissioner.”

“Last night,” reminded Weston, “you also mentioned another hunch — that there might be a connection between the murders of Silas Harshaw and Louis Glenn.”

“I am sure there is a link between them!” declared Cardona.

“Ah!” exclaimed Biscayne. “You have unearthed some new facts since we left you?”

“No,” said Cardona. “I have found no worth-while clews. But I have received something that makes me sure these two deaths were engineered by the same parties.

“You speak of coincidences, professor. They don’t happen twice in a row — not like this!”

As he spoke, Cardona drew an envelope from his pocket. It was identical with the envelope that Roger Biscayne held.

From the envelope, Cardona extracted a sheet of paper. He unfolded it and laid it triumphantly upon the glass-topped desk.

“This letter,” he announced, “arrived in this morning’s mail!”

Weston and Biscayne were staring at the typewritten sheet. It was very similar to the letter that had come two days before, but the wording varied slightly:

IN MEMORY OF L. G. WHO DIED LAST NIGHT HE WAS THE SECOND

“L. G.!” ejaculated Weston. “It must mean Louis Glenn!”

Biscayne did not register surprise. He was thoughtful. Then he spoke aloud, although he seemed to be talking to himself.

“Louis Glenn,” he said, “died a few minutes before eleven o’clock. This letter could have been written afterward—”

“Yes?” The sharp question came from Cardona. “Look at this envelope, professor. Notice its postmark. Ten o’clock!”

Biscayne seemed annoyed by the detective’s remark; then he nodded, in spite of himself. Cardona’s eyes flashed with pleasure.

“That letter,” said the detective, “was mailed before Louis Glenn died. It was mailed by some one who knew he was going to die. It may have been mailed by the slayer himself!”

He paused to let his words make an impression. Then, momentarily ignoring Professor Biscayne, Cardona stared directly at Commissioner Weston, and added a prophecy.

“Silas Harshaw was the first. Louis Glenn was the second. The murderer is still at large.

“You may count on it — there will be a third!”