HANDS UNSEEN

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 890, 6 February 1930, Page 5

HANDS UNSEEN

A New Grey Phantom Detective Story

By

HERMAN ' LANDON

Copyright by Street and Smith Corp. Serialized by Ledger Syndicate

CHAPTER XXIV. '•nXIGOEE RECEIVES A SHOCK. They shook hands, and Vanardv walked out. As he set his race against the storm, turning in the direction of Tuckaway Camp, his lingers tingled unpleasantly from Hollistpr’s limp, clammy handshake. The same sensation had come to him wheu they shook hands the night before. Then as now it had brought him an indescribable chill, as if he had come in contact with something from which life had flown. “Anyhow, I’ve learned something,’’ he told himself as he hurried along. "Interesting to know that Parson .Jim quit the counterfeiting business because of an accident to his hand.” * * » The old grandfather clock in the library at Tuckaway Camp chimed the midnight hour. At the first stroke, Stanhope stirred nervously in the chair he occupied before the lire. The cigar dropped trom his trembling hand, and he reached down with his right arm to pick it up. It was a rather long reach, and the movement caused his sleeve to wrinkle back, exposing several inches of wrist. With a start he pulled the sleeve down and glanced uneasily at his companions in the room. “Nerves on edge tonight. Stanhope?” drawled Harry Bell, regarding him with an amused expression. It had been apparent for several hours hat the lawyer was ill at ease. “This spooky old dump is enough to give anyone the jimjams, especially if something is preying on your mind.” “Just what do you mean by that?” demanded Stanhope, bristling instantly. Bell laughed sardonically. “Nothing in particular, old top. If what I said means anything to you, just forget It. I’m a magnanimous soul; don’t like to hurt anybody’s feelings. Really, though. Stanhope, you ought to be like me. Life is a lot easier when you throw conscience and principles into the discard.” “I wouldn't boast of lack of conscience if I were you,” said the lawyer with dignity, having recovered » semblance of composure. “We haven't forgotten that you were alone with Craig the night he was murdered.” “There you go again!” exclaimed Bell, good-humouredly. “Tell me, Stanhope, isn’t it better to have no conscience at all than to have an uneasy one like yours? I leave it to you, Culligore. Which one of us looks the guiltier, Stanhope or myself?” “You are talking rot, both of you,” growled the lieutenant, getting up and beginning to pace the floor. Culligore had been in a gloomy mood ever since, about three hours ago, he telephoned police headquarters in New York and learned that the Grey Phantom had been arrested. The fact that he had been cheated out of his life’s ambition, and that some one else had accomplished the capture of the celebrated rogue, came as a heavy blow to the lieutenant’s pride. It was all the harder to hear by reason of the fact that, since the Phantom's marvellous

escape in the early morning, Cuiligore’s last remaining doubts as to his guilt had vanished. “Cheer up. Culligore,” said Bell consolingly. "You may get your hooks into the Phantom yet. Are you sure there is no mistake about his arrest?” “Mistake? How could there be?” “Oil, there's always a chance for a slip-up where the Grey Phantom is concerned. Whenever you think he is there he is somewhere else. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised to see him walk in on us tonight.” "You’re dippy,” snorted Culligore. “If it wasn't such a bad night I’d call it a day and beat it back to New "York.” “So should I.” said the lawyer, after listening for a moment to the beat of rain and wind against the windows. “I can’t see that there is anything more for us to accomplish here.” “We may have another mystery on our hands in the morning,” Bell suggested. “One of us may be dead before daylight. You can never tell what's going to break in a place like this.” Stanhope reproved his flippancy with a stern glance. “Wish you wouldn't look at me like that.” said the irrepressible Bell. “You .make me almost as nervous as you are yourself. Since we can’t get back to New York tonight, and since none of us seems inclined for sleep, why not have a common-sense discussion? There’s something that’s been bothering me all day, Culligore. Why do you suppose the Grey Phantom telephoned .you this morning that he would be back here before night?” “Search me. Anyhow', what difference does it make?” “You've said yourself that the Grey Phantom never does anything without a good reason.” “I don’t see what good it does to speculate about his reasons in this particular instance,” the lawyer pointed out. “We know he is under arrest and will not return here.” Bell lifted his brows. “That reminds me of something, Stanhope. While Culligore was at the telephone this morning you hinted that maybe William killed Craig.” The law yer frowned. “That was just a hazy conjecture. I didn’t really mean anything. You will admit, fliowever, that William's guilt is within the range of possibilities.” “I’ll admit anything,” said Bell. “I’ll even admit that one of us may have killed him.” He laughed softly as the lawyer gave a start. “By the way, Culligore, still think the Phantom did it?” “If the Phantom didn't, who did?” “Well, there's one person that nobody seems to have thought of in that connection, but who in the ordinary course of events would have been suspected at the start. As far as we know, there is only one person who profited by Craig’s death, and that's the person who will be spending his money. I mean Julia Wayne, liis niece.” Culligore, who had been pacing the floor. stopped abruptly. “You're crazy!” he muttered. “I'm talking hard sense. Craig left

his money to Miss Wayne because he wanted it to stay in the family, and there was no other relative he could leave it to. Miss Wayne was in the house the night he was murdered. If Craig hadn’t died, she might have had to wait for the money a good many years. How’s that for a motive?” "It’s absurd,” declared the lawyer, emphatically. “You say that only because Miss Wayne is a nice girl and a stunning looker. If Craig had willed his money to a young blade with a taste for champagne and a weakness for the cuties in the chorus, you would have jumped on him at once. I’m not saying Miss Wayne did it, von understand. I’m only exercising my imagination and trying to entertain you two. Especially you, Stanhope. Y'ou need a flow of bright chatter to soothe your nerves.” Stanhope stared at him and muttered something under his breath. “I see you don’t like my -idea,” observed Bell genially. “All right, here’s another. I got my inspiration for it out of those woozy letters Craig received before he died. There was a certain name mentioned in one or two of them —Jack Frey.” Stanhope shrank back in his chair as if he had received a physical blow. Culligore snorted contemptuously. “Just rave on. Bell,” he muttered. “It seems to amuse you.” “It does,” Bell admitted. “Sorry to see that it distresses our friend Stanhope, though. What about it, Stanhope? Don’t you think there is a possibility that Jack Frey is the murderer?” The lawyer steadied himself. "Ridiculous! Jack Frey is dead” “How do you know that?” The question was spoken in soft, almost playful tones, but it exerted a terrifying effect on the lawyer. He trembled violently, and his eyes fell beneath Bell’s steady, smiling gaze He tried to speak, but only,an inarticulate stutter came. “What’s the matter?” asked Bell blandly. “I am onlj' asking how you know that Jack Frey is dead.” With a great effort the lawyer raised his head and met Bell’s mocking gaze. His fine, aristocratic face was ashen. “I—l don’t know what’s come over me,” he muttered dazedly. “I felt dizzy all of a sudden. Must see my physician as soon as I get back to town. What was it you asked, Bell? Something about Jack Frey?” Before Bell could answer, Culligore stepped up and regarded the lawyer with a puzzled expression. “Bell is just raving.” he declared. “Don’t mind him. We know the Grey Phan tom killed Craig, so his crazy theories don’t amount to a row of pins. I'll bet a pair of pink socks that ” “Don’t be so reckless, Culligore,” spoke a voice at the door. “You may lose your bet.” Instantly the three men looked toward the door and stared at the figure standing there so calmly, meeting their startled glances with a smile. It was the Grey Phantom. THE VIGIL IN THE BLUE ROOM “Howling snakes—-it’s the Grey Phantom!” exclaimed Bell, jumping up from his chair. “The —the Grey Phantom!” echoed Stanhope thickly. Culligore found no words. He merely stared at the intruder and looked as if he strongly doubted his senses. Vanardy tossed aside Ills raincoat and coming forward with a brisk stride, glanced at his watch. “Sorry to be late,” he murmured apologetically. “Meant to be back before dark, as I promised, but had too many things to attend to. By the way, Stanhope, you will find the car I borrowed this morning at the crossing just east of Annandale. The back road was so muddy when I was coming back this evening that I had to get out and hike. There are a few bullet holes in the car. but I’ll pay for the damage. Cosy fire!” Amused at their astounded glances, he slipped into the chair Bell had vacated and stretched out his legs before the flames. He looked tired, but there was a keen sparkle in his deepgrey eyes as he glanced at their dazed faces. “You seem surprised,” he observed. “Didn’t I make it clear, Culligore, that I would return?” “I called up headquarters on the long-distance this evening, and they told me you had been pinched.” Vanardy chuckled softly. “Some one made a ridiculous blunder. The police sometimes do, you know.” Culligore winced at the good-natured ihrust. "What’s happened to your arm?”

asked Bell, noticing that Vanardy car ried it in a sling.

“A trifling accident. A gang of ruffians tried to waylay Miss Hardwick and me between here and Annandale this morning. Luckily I was armed and could put up a fight. We had quite a little skirmish. Where is Bowman?”

“He went home after we got word from New Y'ork that you had been arrested,” Bell told him. “He looked sort of heartbroken. The poor devil had been expecting to cover himself with glory by catchiDg the Grey Phantom.”

“His chance will come yet,” Culligore pointed out. “He is the proper authority to surrender yourself to, Vanardy. The murder took place inside his jurisdiction. I must telephone him.”

“Surrender?” exclaimed Vanardy, looking incredulously at the lieutenant. “You didn’t think I came back here to surrender myself?” “What else did you come back,for, I’d like to know?”

Vanardy smiled affably. “I came back because I like your company, Culligore, and want to have another little chat with you. Too. I want to spend another night in the blue room. The atmosphere of that room grows on one. Incidentally. I thought you might like to know who murdered Craig and William.”

“You needn’t tell me that. I know already.” “You think you do, but you are mistaken. By the way, Stanhope, will you ring for one of the servants and order a fire in the blue room? Just a small one to take the chill out.”

The lawyer stared at him for an instant, looked helplessly at Culligore, then did as Vanardy had requested. "Do you mean that you know who committed the murders?” asked Bell. Vanardy’s head went up a little; he seemed to be straining his ears for elusive sounds. The house, shivering occasionally before an onslaught of wind and rain, xvas full of confused noises.

“I do,” said Vanardy. “In the morning I shall tell you the murderer’s name. Too sleepy to talk of serious things tonight.” ’ “Oh, come on,” said Bell. “It isn’t fair to keep us in suspense all night. Can’t you see that Stanhope is nervous. lie almost threw a fit a while ago when I asked him a simple question.

The lawyer glared at him and moved his hand to his side. “My poor heart can’t stand much excitement.”

Vanardy regarded him narrowly, noticing that he was pressing his hand to his right side. "No wonder you have a. weak heart,” remarked Bell, who had also noticed the peculiar movement. “'lt’s on the wrong side.” A RIGHT-HANDED HEART

Stanhope paled, but drew himself up and ignored the gibe. “I think, Vanardy,” he said with dignity, “that whatever information you have should be divulged tonight.” “Not now. Not until I have had another session with the ghost of the blue room. I’ll tell you one thing, however. The murders were committed by someone who is at present in this house. Good night.” Pie walked away, leaving a dazed silence behind him.

“Hold on!” barked Culligore, reaching for his pistol. “You don’t think I’m going to let you get away from me again?” Vanardy turned and fixed him with a humorous glance. “Don’t be absurd, Culligore. If I wished to get away, why do you suppose I came back?” AVith that he turned and walked to the door. Culligore jerked out his pistol and ordered him to halt. A’anardy flung a glance over his shoulder, laughed as he saw the levelled automatic, and, without a sign of hurry or nervousness, turned the knob and passed out the door and closed it behind him. He chuckled softly as he started up the stairs with his final glimpse of Culligore’s flabbergasted face lingering in his vision.

CHAPTER XXV. IN THE MURDER ROOM A servant had just kindled a fire when \ r anardy entered the blue room and sat down in the big armchair Bell had occupied on the night of Craig’s murder. Leaning far back in the chair, he closed his eyes and relaxed. He had spent a trying day, and he fancied that the developments that were still to come would tax all his bodily and

mental strength. It was the Grey Phantom’s priceless gift to be able to rest whenever he desired and to remove it with all harassing cares from his mind.

Half an hour passed. The room was still save for the ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece and the swishing beat of wind and rain against the window.

A firm knock sounded on the door, and he got up and opened it. Culligore walked in, gingerly handling his automatic.

“I don’t see what your game is, Vanardy,” he said curtly, “but I’m not going to let you put anything over.” Vanardy locked and bolted the door and returned to the chair. With some little difficulty, having only one arm at his disposal, he lighted a cigarette. He blew a ring of smoke toward the ceiling.

“You alarm yourself needlessly, Culligore,” he said calmly. “As if a, one-armed man could put anything over on a sharp-eyed and able-bodied person like yourself.” . With a grunt Culligore sat down opposite him, with the table between them, and placed the weapon within easy reach in front of him. “I wouldn’t trust you, Vanardy, even if both your arms were on the blink and you didn’t have a leg to stand on.” “Thanks for the compliment. Where did you leave Stanhope and Bell?” “In the library, ragging each other. I told them I was going to bed.” “Splendid, Culligore! Then nobody knows that you are spending the night with me.” The lieutenant gave him a glance of mingled suspicion and bewilderment. “I you didn’t telephone Bowman?” said Vanardy after a moment’s pause. “No, I decided it could wait till morning.”

“Admirable discretion, Culligore. I’m sure we are going to have a very interesting night. I have a feeling that someone intends to murder me before morning.” "Eh?” The lieutenant sat up a little straighter in his chair. “I mean just that, Culligore.” His lips twisted in a faint, inscrutable smile. “A certain person thinks he will be safer with me dead. Y'ou and I may see a hit of excitement tonight. The reason I welcome your society, however, is not with the idea that you are to act as my bodyguard. I want you here merely as a witness. I can take care of myself, even if my left arm is incsipacitated.” Culligore compressed his lips in a grim line and looked significantly at the pistol lying before him. “Maybe so. You know what I think, Vanardy. I think you killed Craig and William. I don’t know what kind of tricks you are up to, hut I’m watching you with both eyes. For a long, long time .my fingers have been itching to get hold of the Grey Phantom.” “I know. And the strangest part of it ail is that, way down in your heart, you have a sneaking liking for me. You have shown it on several occasions, Culligore. I don’t believe you will feel an unmixed triumph if your chance ever comes to put the steel bracelets on me. Y T ou will feel just the least bit regretful—isn’t it so?” “You’re talking foolishness,” the lieutenant grumbled, looking decidedly uncomfortable. "Anyhow, even if I felt that way about you, I -wouldn’t let my feelings interfere with my duty.” “Of course not. That’s one of the things I like about you. it isn’t every man who carries his devotion to duty along with him when he takes a vacation. Such devotion deserves to be rewarded, and your reward will come soon. Before morning you will have captured the murderer of Craig and AVilliam. I know you would rather capture the Grey Phantom, but this will be quite a satisfactory consolation prize.” The lieutenant eyed him with a narrow, doubting glance. “You talk big,” he remarked dryly. “I’ll give you till daylight to make good. If nothing comes along to change my mind in the meantime, I’ll hand you over to Bowman on a double charge of murder.” “Fair enough. Would you mind

seeing if the window and the shutters are properly locked?” Culligore grumbled, but complied. ‘‘Thank you,” said Vanardy. “The setting is now exactly as it was the night Craig was murdered. The only difference is in the cast of characters. You are taking Craig’s place, and I am taking Bell's.” The lieutenant winced a trifle. "Don't be alarmed,” said Vanardy with a chuckle. “I meant that only 'in the sense that you are sitting where Craig sat, while I am in the chair Bell occupied that night. I fancy the outcome will be quite different this time.” “Well, I should hope so,” mumbled the lieutenant. “That was quite a neat get-away you and Miss Hardwick pulled off this morning. How did you do it?” “You will see soon enough. It was very simple, though—as simple as . passing through a turnstile in the New York subway.” “Except that you didn't have to pay a nickel?”

Vanardy smiled non-committally. “Oh, all right,” muttered the lieutenant. “B« as mysterious a 3 you like. Ycu gave yourself away, though, when you made that get-away. You demonstrated that sou know a way out of this room that nobody else knows.” “Not bad logic, Culligore. I suppose it is useless to tell you that 1 discovered the way while you were pounding on the door?” “It sounds pretty thin. Several other people have spent hours looking for a secret exit from this room. You mean to tell me you found it in

a few minutes?” “I did. You see, I had certain advantages that the others lacked. For one thing, one’s mind works very quickly in tense moments. You think of things that would never occur to you in a calmer mood. But 1 hope to convince you before long. Unless I miss my guess, you will soon discorer that I am not the only one who knows a secret way in and out of this room. Will that satisfy you?”

“It will go a long way. In the meantime I'm going to keep my eyes on you. If you make a single false move ” He looked meaninglv at the pistol lying before him. (To be continued Tomorrow.)