The Gray Phantom's Return

by Herman Landon

  CHAPTER VII--DOCTOR BIMBLE'S LABORATORY

  She was the last person the Gray Phantom had expected to see at thatmoment, and this was the last place where he would have dreamed offinding her. He stared into her face until the flame of the match bithis fingers.

  "You!" He dropped the stub and trampled it under his foot. She stoodrigid in the shadows, and the wan glint of the pistol barrel told thatshe was still pointing the weapon at him. Her breath came fast, withlittle soblike gasps, as if she were trying to stifle a violent emotion.

  "How did you get here?" she demanded, her voice scarcely above awhisper.

  "By a tight squeeze," he said lightly. "I must be a sight."

  "You came through the--tunnel?"

  "I did as a matter of fact, though I don't see how you guessed it."

  Staring at her through the dusk, the Phantom was conscious that hisstatement had exerted a profound effect upon her. She drew a longbreath, and her figure, scarcely distinguishable in the gloom, seemed toshrink away from him.

  "Oh!" she exclaimed, an odd throb in her voice. "Then you did it!"

  "Did what?"

  "Murdered Sylvanus Gage."

  The Phantom shook his head. "You deduce I am a murderer from the factthat I got here through a tunnel. Well, that may be very good femininelogic, but----"

  "It is excellent logic, my friend," interrupted a voice somewhere in thedarkness; and in the same moment there came a click, and a brightelectric light flooded the scene. The Phantom had a brief glimpse of aludicrous little man with an oversized head, a round protuberance ofstomach, and short, thin legs encased in tightly fitting trousers; thenhe turned to Helen Hardwick and gazed intently into her large,misty-bright eyes.

  "Oh, they're brown, I see," he murmured. "I had a notion they wereeither blue or gray. Queer how one forgets."

  The girl looked as though utterly unable to understand his levity, foras such she evidently construed his remark. The thin-legged man steppedaway from the door through which he had entered and approached themslowly, giving the Phantom a gravely appraising look over the rims ofhis glasses. The Phantom had eyes only for Helen Hardwick. He studiedher closely, almost reverentially, noticing that her eyes, which uponhis entrance had been steady and cool, were now strangely agitated,radiating a dread that seemed to dominate her entire being. The handthat clutched the pistol trembled a trifle, and there were signs of anextreme tension in the poise of the strong, slender figure, in thequivering nostrils, and in the pallor that suffused the smooth oval ofher face.

  "Remarkable!" murmured the spectacled individual, drawing a few stepscloser to obtain a clearer view of the Phantom. "The young lady andmyself are covering you with our pistols, and yet you exhibit no fearwhatever. Most remarkable! May I feel your pulse, sir?"

  The Phantom's lips twitched at the corners as he looked at the speaker.The latter's automatic, pointed at a somewhat indefinite part of thePhantom's body, seemed ludicrously large in contrast with the slightstature of the man himself.

  "My name, sir," declared the little man with an air of vast importance,"is Doctor Tyson Bimble. You may have heard of me. I have writtenseveral treatises on the subject of criminal anthropology, and myprofessional services have occasionally been enlisted by the police. Notthat such work interests me," he added quickly. "The solution of crimemysteries and the capture of criminals are the pastimes of inferiorminds. As a man of science, I am interested solely in the criminalhimself, his mental and physical characteristics and the congenitaltraits that distinguish him. Again I ask you if I may feel your pulse."

  Smiling, the Phantom extended his hand. Admonishing Miss Hardwick tokeep a steady aim, Doctor Bimble pocketed his own weapon and took outhis watch.

  "Perfectly normal," he declared when the examination was finished. "Atfirst I thought that at least a part of your superb coolness wassimulated. It is all the more remarkable in view of the fact that atthis very moment you are surrounded on all sides by the police. Theyhave thrown a cordon around the block and every house is beingsystematically searched."

  The Phantom stiffened. His abrupt and unexpected meeting with HelenHardwick had momentarily blunted his sense of caution, causing him toforget that he was still in imminent danger. He threw her a quick glancenoticing a look of alarm in her face. He made a rapid appraisal of thesituation. His flight through the tunnel could not have taken him morethan twelve or fifteen yards from the rear of the Gage establishment,and he was almost certain that the passage had extended in a straightsoutherly direction. Consequently the place in which he now foundhimself must be one of the shed-like structures he had seen from thewindow of Gage's bedroom.

  His eyes opened wide as he looked around. Whatever the place might looklike from the outside, the interior certainly did not have theappearance of a shed. It was a strange setting, and it seemed all thestranger because he had found Helen Hardwick in it. At one end was along bench covered with bottles, glass jars, tubes, and a queer-lookingassortment of chemical apparatus. The walls were lined with rows of tallcabinets with glass doors, each containing a skeleton, and above thesewas a frieze of photographs and X-ray prints in black frames.

  He wondered how Miss Hardwick happened to be in such strangesurroundings. Her large, long-lashed eyes avoided him, and her righthand, cramped about the handle of the pistol, wavered a trifle. She hadchanged since their last meeting, he noticed. She had seemed half childand half woman then, a vivacious young creature with a mixture ofreckless audacity, demure wistfulness and adorable shyness whosebewildering contradictions had enhanced a loveliness that had gone tothe Phantom's head like foaming wine. In the course of a few months shehad acquired the subtle and indefinable something that differentiatesgirlhood from womanhood. Her face--he had liked to think of it asheart-shaped--had sobered a little, and the graceful lines of chin andthroat seemed firmer. Faintly penciled shadows at the corners of herlips hinted that a touch of somberness had crept into her mood, but evensuch a trifling detail as a few wisps of loosened hair danglingsportively against her cheeks seemed to go a long way toward upsettingthis effect.

  Doctor Bimble's thin and rasping voice startled the Phantom out of hisreverie.

  "My laboratory, sir," he explained with a comprehensive wave of thehand. "What you see here is probably the most remarkable collection ofits kind in the world. Each of these skeletons represents a distinctcriminal type. Here, for instance are the bones of Raschenell, thefamous apache. They are supposed to be buried in a cemetery in Paris,but a certain French official for whom I once did a favor was obliging.In my private rogues' gallery you see photographs of some of the mostnotorious criminals the world has ever known, and these X-ray picturesillustrate various pathological conditions usually associated withcriminal tendencies. Quite remarkable, you will admit."

  "Quite," said the Phantom a little absently, as if his mind wereoccupied with more pressing matters than the bones of notoriousmalefactors.

  "You may feel perfectly at ease, my friend." The little doctor, noticingthe Phantom's abstraction, spoke soothingly. "I think I have alreadymade it clear that the pursuit and capture of criminals don't interestme. Without doubt we shall arrive at some amicable understanding thatwill insure your safety."

  "Understanding?" echoed the Phantom, having detected a slight butsignificant emphasis on the word.

  "Yes; why not? You have interested me for some time, Mr.--ahem. Let mesee--I believe your real name is Cuthbert Vanardy?"

  The Phantom nodded.

  "Making due allowance for the exaggerations of stupid newspaper writers,I have long recognized that you are a remarkable individual. Yes,remarkable. You do not belong to any of the types mentioned by Prichard,Pinel, and Lombroso, but you are a type of your own. Naturally youarouse my scientific curiosity. Nothing would please me more than to addyou to my collection."

  The Phantom glanced at the grisly contents of the cabinets. Aserio-comic grin wrinkled his face. "Aren't you a bit hasty, doctor? Iam not dead yet, you know."

  "True--quit
e true. But a man like you leads a precarious existence. Ifhe doesn't break his neck in some rash adventure the electric chair isalways a menacing possibility. The chances are that I shall outlive youby a score of years. Promise that you will give the matter dueconsideration."

  The Phantom blinked his eyes. Doctor Bimble seemed amiable enough, yetthe man was scarcely human. His whole being was wrapped up in hisscience and his entire world was composed of anthropological specimensand fine-spun theories.

  "You wish me to make arrangements to have my body turned over to youafter my death?"

  "Precisely, Mr. Vanardy. That is what my friend and neighbor, SylvanusGage, did. An inferior personality, yet he had his points of interest. Iam obliged to you for hastening his demise."

  A tremulous gasp sounded in the room. The Phantom turned, and his browclouded as he noticed the expression of anguish that had crossed Helen'sface at the doctor's words.

  "You're mistaken, Bimble," he declared sharply; "I didn't kill Gage. IfI had done so, I should scarcely be here at the present moment."

  Doctor Bimble shrugged his shoulders. "The matter is of littleconsequence, my dear sir. Whether or not you killed Gage is not of theslightest interest to me. However," with a significant glance atVanardy's mud-streaked clothing and begrimed features, "I am strongly ofthe opinion that you did. The only thing that perplexes me is that youare taking the trouble to deny it. Did I hear you say that you came herethrough the tunnel?"

  "I did." As he spoke the two words, the Phantom felt Helen's eyessearching his face.

  "Enough." The anthropologist made a gesture expressive of finality."Your admission that you came through the tunnel is an admission thatyou killed Gage. I perceive you do not follow me. Well, then, thecircumstances of the crime prove conclusively that it was committed bysomeone who was aware of the existence of the tunnel. What the foolishnewspapers refer to as astounding and miraculous is simplicity itself.The murderer entered Gage's bedchamber by way of the underground passageand made his escape by the same route. Nothing could be simpler."

  The Phantom laughed mirthlessly. The doctor's theory, though at firstglance shallow and far-fetched, impressed him uncomfortably, instillingin his mind an idea that had not occurred to him until now. Helen,standing a few paces away, was regarding him intently.

  "To-day, I infer, you returned to the scene of your crime," continuedthe doctor, speaking in the dry tones of one developing a thesis."Criminals often do, but why you, a superior type, should exhibit thesame failing is beyond me. Some time in the near future I shall write amonograph on the subject, with particular reference to your individualcase. However, the fact remains that you returned to the scene of yourcrime. I take it that by some blunder or careless move you betrayed yourpresence. At any rate, you found yourself trapped in Gage's bedchamber.What more natural than that, for the second time within a week, youshould use the tunnel as a means of escape?"

  The Phantom was silent for a moment. Helen Hardwick seemed to besearching his soul with eyes that gave him a distressing impression ofdoubt, suspicion, and reproach.

  "You're mistaken." He was addressing the doctor, but the effect of hiswords was intended for the girl. "I went to Gage's house this afternoon,hoping to find some clew to the murderer."

  "Ah!" The doctor's chuckle expressed amusement. "You were acting on theidea that it takes a crook to catch a crook, I suppose. Go on. Youringenious explanations are diverting."

  "I found myself cornered," continued the Phantom, stifling hisresentment. "With the house surrounded and the police pounding on thedoor, I had only a few moments in which to find a way out. I used thetunnel, but I discovered the opening by merest accident."

  "Impossible--flatly impossible! Yes, I see your wrist is scratched, butthat proves nothing. That opening, my dear sir, could never have beendiscovered by accident."

  "You seem to know something about it yourself," remarked the Phantompointedly.

  "I do," admitted the anthropologist, with a broad grin.

  "And the tunnel runs into the cellar of your house."

  "So it does." The doctor seemed not at all disturbed by Vanardy's sharpgaze. "Years ago, when I was looking for an inconspicuous andout-of-the-way place in which to pursue my studies in quiet, I leasedthe house to which this laboratory forms an extension. I saw Gage nowand then, and the man interested me. Even before we became confidentialI had noticed phrenological manifestations that seemed to classify himas belonging to one of the types described by Lombroso. Step by step Ibecame familiar with his history and mode of life. I learned that he wasconducting an extensive traffic in stolen goods, and that he had a broadcircle of acquaintances in the underworld. Gage proved useful,introducing me to criminals whom I wished to study at close range, and,in addition to that, the man himself interested me. I saw traits andpeculiarities in him that were strangely contradictory. And so, when oneday he confided to me that he was living in constant fear of the police,who were likely to raid his premises at any time and confiscate hisvaluables, I made a proposition to him."

  "You offered to help on the condition that he sign his body over to youfor dissecting purposes," guessed the Phantom.

  "Exactly, my friend." Bimble rubbed his hands in glee. "I offered toinvent an avenue of escape that would be absolutely safe and proofagainst detection. Gage accepted, and I set to work fulfilling my partof the bargain. The result, if I may bestow compliments on myself, was awork of genius."

  The Phantom gazed in frank astonishment at the versatile anthropologist."The police have a nasty name for that sort of thing," he observed.

  "The police and I are friends. I help them on occasions, when the spiritmoves me and the case interests me. And a scientific man, my dear sir,cannot afford to have moral scruples. The ends of science justify allother things, even assisting a criminal to escape. Incidentally Iderived a lot of entertainment out of the planning of the tunnel. In thefirst place, the window was purposely built so small that no one wouldconsider it for a moment as a possible means of escape. Still less wouldany one think of looking for an exit hidden behind the frame of such awindow. You noticed the nail, of course. A lot of psychology is centeredaround that nail."

  "So it's a psychological nail, eh?" The Phantom looked at the scratch onhis wrist.

  "I knew, from my observations of the workings of the human mind, thatnot one person in ten million would give a second thought to that nail.Even if, by remote chance, someone should touch it, he would neversuspect that it was a part of a mechanism. If, by a still remoterchance, he would investigate more closely, he would not know how tooperate it. So, you see, there is not one chance in a billion that astranger would find the tunnel. Do you blame me for doubting yourstatement that you found it by accident?"

  The Phantom looked at Miss Hardwick. Doctor Bimble's explanation seemedto have impressed her strongly. He did not wonder at this, for he knewthere was logic in the anthropologist's argument. Nothing but his firmbelief that Gage had provided himself with an emergency exit of somesort had prompted the Phantom to give the nail a closer scrutiny.

  Doctor Bimble gave him a mildly amused look.

  "You agree with me--don't you, Vanardy? I think my logic holds together.Only a person familiar with the tunnel could have committed the murder.Conversely, a person betraying a knowledge of the tunnel is a worthyobject of suspicion."

  "Haven't you forgotten something?" The Phantom suddenly called to mindhis own theory of the crime. "One other person could have committed themurder without a knowledge of the tunnel."

  "Yes, I know," said the doctor wearily. "You are thinking of OfficerPinto. The possibility that he might be the guilty one occurred to me assoon as I saw the newspaper account, but the probabilities of the casecontroverted that view. Officer Pinto is an honest, dull-witted,conscientious soul--nothing else. That kind of man doesn't com----"

  The jangling of a bell in front of the house interrupted him. There wasa humorous twinkle in his eyes as he looked at the Phantom over the rimsof his spectacles. Helen
inhaled sharply.

  "The police have come to search the house, I think," Doctor Bimblemurmured languidly. "My man Jerome--an estimable fellow, by the way--isalready admitting them. In a few moments they will be coming this way.Of course, if I tell them that I have seen nothing of a fugitive, theywill go away without making an extended search."

  Vanardy stiffened. His head went up and his eyes narrowed; then heglanced quizzically at the doctor. It seemed to him that Bimble hadstressed the word if, as though a condition were implied.

  "Well, Vanardy?" The anthropologist's tone was light and playful. Soundsof distant footfalls reached their ears. The Phantom's darting eyesrested for an instant on one of the skeletons, and in a twinkling heunderstood. He laughed shortly, for the idea impressed him asgrotesquely humorous.

  "I see," he said quickly. "You'll say the necessary word to the policeif I agree to dedicate my earthly remains to your private hall of fame."

  "You grasp my meaning exactly. But the time is short and I sha'n't pressyou for a definite promise. Only give me your word that you willconsider the proposition."

  "Very well; I'll consider it," promised the Phantom. "But I warn youthat I have no burning ambition to become a skeleton for some time yet."

  A pleased grin wrinkled the doctor's face. The footfalls, mingling withgruff voices, were coming closer, signifying that the searchers wererapidly approaching the laboratory.

  "This way, Vanardy." The doctor beckoned the Phantom to follow as hestarted toward the door. Approaching footsteps caused him to draw back.A look of bewilderment came into his face.

  "We have wasted too much time," he said complainingly; then, as helooked about the room, his face brightened. "But this will do for ahiding place. Better come along, Miss Hardwick. It may save youembarrassing questions."

  He stepped hurriedly to one side of the room, opened a door and motionedthem into a narrow closet. A moment later they heard a key turn in thelock.