The Gray Phantom

by Herman Landon

  CHAPTER XX

  TRAPPED

  "Hello--hello!" shouted Culligore into the mouthpiece. From head tofoot he was tingling with suspense. It was one of the rare occasionswithin recent years when he felt the thrill of excitement.

  A hoarse and rasping voice responded, but at first he could make outno words. The person at the other end seemed to speak with greatdifficulty and was evidently on the verge of hysterics.

  "Speak a little louder, can't you?" urged the lieutenant. "Who areyou?"

  A jumble of split words and syllables sounded distantly in his ear.Now and then, between efforts to speak clearly, came a titter and agiggle that awoke a startling suspicion in Culligore's mind.

  "Tell me who you are," he said in loud tones.

  A short, cracked laugh came over the wire. It was followed by a groan,as if the speaker were despairing over his inability to make himselfunderstood. Then he tried again. "Fair--Fairspeckle."

  "Oh!" Culligore's teeth clicked out the exclamation. He nodded at theinstrument, as if the name just spoken had confirmed a suspicion inhis mind. "Where are you, Mr. Fairspeckle?"

  "I can't--can't tell you," came gropingly over the wire.

  "Haven't you any idea?"

  "None. I'm locked in a--a room, and I am--dying! For God's sake get meout!"

  "Listen, Mr. Fairspeckle," said Culligore tensely. "You're somewherein the Thelma Theater, and I am going to find you. It may take somelittle time, but don't worry. It won't be very long."

  A groan of relief mingled with pent-up suspense sounded in Culligore'sear, and then he slammed the receiver back on the hook. His eyes weretwinkling and there was a new eagerness in his face. He jumped up fromthe chair and took a step toward the door. Then he drew back, and inthe next moment his face had resumed its habitual sluggish expressionand there was nothing in his manner to indicate that anything out ofthe ordinary had happened.

  The door opened and in walked Vincent Starr. The theatrical manager,faultlessly attired in evening dress, topcoat, and silk hat, shrankback at sight of the man standing beside the desk. Then, recognizingthe lieutenant, he instantly gathered himself.

  "You startled me, Culligore," he explained with an apologetic laugh."So many strange things have happened in this place that I amnaturally a little nervous. I often come here late at night to read orwrite, according to my mood, but of late I approach the place in fearand trembling." He eyed the detective inquiringly. "I wonder whatbrings you to my private office at such an hour."

  "Hope you don't mind my snooping," said Culligore genially. "I havebeen looking around a bit. There were a couple of things I wanted toget straightened out in my mind. As you say yourself, there have beena lot of strange doings in this place, and I've got a sneakingsuspicion that Mr. Shei is back of them all."

  Starr doffed his hat and ran his fingers through his long, glossyhair. The discoloration of his nose had diminished greatly, but hisface was still pale and drawn.

  "That's precisely my idea," he said nervously. "I shall never feelsafe until that scoundrel is behind iron bars. Unless he has a privategrievance against me, I am at a loss to understand why he can't keepaway from my theater. By the way, did you obtain any light on thethings that were puzzling you?"

  "Not much," said Culligore disgustedly, with a furtive glance at thetelephone. "I searched every square inch of the place without findingwhat I was after."

  "Yes?" Starr seemed politely curious. "I infer, then, that you had adefinite object in view, that you were not just searching at random."

  "Oh, no." Culligore looked about him as if not quite at ease. "Isuppose we're alone?"

  "Not another soul in the building. You can speak as freely as youlike."

  "Then I'll tell you exactly what I think. The way Mr. Shei's men havebeen sneaking in and out of this place is mighty suggestive. Just whythey should be turning your place into a rendezvous is something Idon't understand, but that's exactly what they seem to be doing. Theywere right on the job the night you opened your new play. They gaveVirginia Darrow a shot of poison just at the psychological moment,before she could spill what she knew. Then they sneaked the body awayright under our eyes, and we have not yet discovered how they managedit. Only the other day, somebody took a shot at either you or The GrayPhantom. All this looks mighty queer."

  "It does," assented Starr. He took out a jewel-studded case andlighted a cigarette. His pale, uneasy eyes did not leave thedetective's face for a moment. "What is your theory?"

  Culligore looked musingly into space. "Mr. Shei is very clever, but heis of flesh and blood, like the rest of us. There must be a simple andnatural explanation for all these strange doings. I'll bet my hat thathe has found a secret entrance to your place."

  "Impossible," said Starr promptly. "This theater was built accordingto my own directions and my own architects supervised every detail ofthe construction."

  "That may be, but I still stick to the idea of a secret entrance.Don't you see, Mr. Starr, even if you didn't have such an entrancemade when you constructed your theater, Mr. Shei's men may havedrilled a hole through the wall or the floor somewhere? Nothing elseexplains how they have been slipping in and out of the place."

  "But why?" demanded Starr, and his fingers trembled as he took thecigarette from his lips. "Why should they do such a thing?"

  Culligore smiled faintly while his muddy little eyes scanned theother's face.

  "I think you can make a pretty fair guess," he said dryly.

  Starr's face turned a shade paler. For an instant there was a look ofpositive dread in his eyes, but it vanished quickly. A sad smile cameto his lips.

  "I see I must be frank with you," he murmured, "much as I dislike todiscuss matters pertaining to my private life. Don't ask me to go intodetails, for there are excellent reasons why I should not do so. Inplain words, I do not care to incriminate myself. I have not alwaysbeen what I am to-day. There was a time, quite a number of years ago,when I led a very violent life and when the law and I were not on thebest of terms. I made enemies--a number of them--and it is possible thatthey are pursuing me to-day. In fact I----"

  He paused, and his narrowing gaze slanted to the floor. Culligorerepressed a start. In the intense silence of the moment he heard afaint buzzing. Somewhere, in one of the offices on the ground floor, atelephone was ringing, and he guessed that Fairspeckle had grownimpatient and was calling one of the other departments of theintercommunicating system.

  "In fact," Starr went on after a moment's pause, quickly controllinghis astonishment, "if I were to come face to face with Mr. Sheito-day, I strongly suspect that I would recognize in him one of my oldenemies. Don't ask me to explain any further, Culligore. You willappreciate the delicacy of the matter."

  "I do, and you've said enough to explain the funny doings that havebeen going on here. I want you to answer one question frankly. Haveyou any idea who Mr. Shei is?"

  "Have you?" was Starr's prompt rejoinder.

  Culligore chuckled. "Maybe I have and maybe I haven't. I'm pretty sureof one thing. Some people think The Gray Phantom is Mr. Shei, butthey're dead wrong."

  Starr's lips twitched into a knowing smile. "I agree with you, there,Culligore. Shall we go a step farther? With The Gray Phantomeliminated, the range of available suspects narrows down to one man.Am I right?"

  "I think you are on the right track, Mr. Starr."

  The theatrical manager, once more quite composed, seemed to find agreat deal of amusement in the speculative drift of the conversation.

  "It is diverting to try to read other people's minds," he observed. "Iwonder how close I can come to an accurate reading of yours. Adetective's thoughts travel a devious route, but I will try to look atthe situation from your point of view, taking all the circumstancesinto account. If you were to mention the name of the one remainingsuspect, I fancy it would be W. Rufus Fairspeckle."

  Culligore stared as if dumfounded at the other's astuteness, but hislips curled into the faintest grin as soon as Starr averted his gaze
.

  "You might as well admit that I was right," said the manager with asmile of elation. "For once a mere layman has read your mind like anopen book. The next question is what has become of Fairspeckle. Do yousuppose----"

  He broke off short. His glance darted involuntarily to the automatictelephone on the desk. Its summons sounded clear and distinct in thetense silence. Once more a tinge of gray crept into his face. With atightening of the lips he looked furtively at Culligore.

  "Queer!" muttered the lieutenant, fingering the green cord attached tothe instrument and tracing it to the sound box. "Someone is calling onthe private wire. And you just told me that you and I were alone inthe building."

  The buzzing continued. Starr stared helplessly at the instrument, butout of the tail of an eye he was watching the expression on thedetective's face. Finally, with a jerk of the shoulders, he emergedfrom his daze.

  "I don't understand it," he murmured, "but we shall soon see what itmeans."

  He sat down and drew the instrument to him. His face took on a look ofdetermination, but there was also a baffling and inscrutableexpression that might have puzzled the detective. But Culligore'sthoughts seemed to be elsewhere. He looked as though he foresaw acritical moment and realized that quick thinking and prompt actionwere necessary. While Starr was speaking into the telephone, he lookedquickly about the room. From his vest pocket he took a small box andremoved the lid, exposing a reddish substance that looked like salve.Rubbing a little of it onto his finger tips, he softly crossed theroom and quickly smeared a thin coating of the reddish material on thedoorknob.

  Starr hung up the receiver just as the little box disappeared intoCulligore's vest pocket.

  "I don't understand it," said the manager frettingly. "Someone wasspeaking. It was a man's voice, but I couldn't make out what he wastrying to say. It is very mysterious." He smiled faintly. "It'sbeginning to look as though I was mistaken and there was someone elsein the building besides you and me."

  "It certainly looks queer," admitted Culligore. "I searchedeverywhere, but we might as well go over the ground again."

  Starr acquiesced readily, and Culligore saw to it that the managerpreceded him out of the room. He noticed with gratification that theother's fingers closed firmly around the knob as he opened the door,and he knew that Starr was too preoccupied to take heed of the faintsmear left on his hand from contact with the greased metal. Hechuckled inwardly as he followed the manager down the stairs andthrough the offices in front of the building. After a brief andsomewhat perfunctory search, they entered the auditorium.

  "Shall I switch on the lights?" whispered Starr, walking beside thedetective.

  "I wouldn't. If there's a prowler around the place, we don't want towarn him. My electric flash will do."

  For a time they conducted the search in silence, the detectivecautiously darting the electric gleam over floor and walls and intodark corners. Finally he paused before a niche in the wall and pointedto an aperture behind the marble shelf that spanned the opening.

  "Do you know," he whispered, "that the other day, while I was talkingwith The Gray Phantom, I had a funny feeling someone was hiding backthere and listening to our conversation? Who do you suppose it couldhave been?"

  There was no response. Culligore had been peering into the recessbehind the marble ledge. Now he looked up quickly, but Starr wasgone--and the twitching of the detective's lips signified that themanager's sudden disappearance did not surprise him greatly. In aninstant he was amazingly alert. Jerking his electric flash hither andthither, he moved quickly back and forth within the narrow space wherehe had last seen the manager, sweeping the surrounding objects withhis electric gleam and examining the surfaces of chairs, pillars,walls, and decorative articles.

  Presently he brought up in front of one of the larger pillarssupporting the balcony. He had previously noticed its huge dimensions,and now he gauged them again with a quickly calculating eye. It wasthere The Gray Phantom had stood when the mysterious shot was firedthe other day, and Helen Hardwick had been leaning against the samepillar when the curious individual with the repulsive features glidedpast her.

  The electric gleam moved swiftly over the white surface of the postwith its ornate trimmings of dull gold. Again, as once or twicebefore, he wondered whether there was any hidden significance in thefact that The Gray Phantom had stood in this identical spot at themoment the shot was fired. Was it possible that the skulking assailanthad feared that The Phantom was about to make an important discovery,and was that why he had fired the shot? Culligore pondered thequestion while scanning every square inch of the pillar.

  Suddenly the electric gleam stopped at a point near the floor, andCulligore could scarcely repress an exclamation of elation. His rusehad succeeded, for on the white surface of the post was a faintdiscoloration which signified that Starr's hand had recently touchedthat particular point. There were no other marks, and this one wasonly a few inches from the floor. Culligore's fingers ran quickly overthe surrounding space, and occasionally he pressed his thumb firmlyagainst the wood, but without discovering anything. His hand sliddownward to where the rich Persian carpet was neatly tucked around thebase of the post, and suddenly his exploring fingers touched a slightknoblike projection. He pressed firmly, and he felt an exultant tingleas there came a soft, whirring response. A panel in the post,ingeniously hidden in the gold-lined grooves, was sliding back,forming an aperture.

  The electric gleam showed a look of keen elation on Culligore's face.His discovery had taken only a minute or two of valuable time, for hehad moved fast since he noticed that Starr was gone. Yet, but for ahappy inspiration and the resultant reddish stain on the post, hemight have searched for days without finding the opening.

  Now he squeezed his figure through the narrow aperture, at the sametime pocketing his electric flash and drawing his automatic. His feetencountered the upper rungs of a ladder that pointed straight down. Hedescended rapidly, making no sound. At the bottom was a narrow passageextending in the direction of the street, and at its farther end hesaw a faint glow. He approached quickly, warned by a sixth sense thathe had no time to waste.

  He came to a door. It stood open a crack, and through the narrowopening he saw a strange scene. An elderly man, with a thin andhaggard face and sunken eyes that stared about him in an agonized way,was lying on a cot. Starr, bending over the recumbent man, was windingpieces of rope around his feet and hands and drawing them into tightknots.

  "There, Mr. Fairspeckle," he tauntingly declared when he had fasteneda gag around the other man's mouth, "I don't think you will work loosea second time. Even if you should, you will find that the telephone isout of order."

  He laughed, turned away from the cot, and uttered a gasp as he lookedinto the muzzle of Culligore's pistol. Every trace of color faded fromhis face, but he gathered himself quickly.

  "You are a most astounding person, Culligore," he remarked coolly. "Iwonder how you found your way down here. Not that it matters," headded with a shrug, "but I am naturally curious. I won't press you forthe information, however. Any way I can be of service?"

  "Yes, Mr. Shei," said Culligore, emphasizing each word and lookingstraight into the other's eyes, "you can hold out your hands and notmake any fuss while I put the handcuffs on you."

  Starr laughed derisively. "Sorry not to be able to oblige you, but Ihave a distinct aversion to handcuffs. Won't you sit down and becomfortable? An underground room like this has many advantages. In thechests you see against the walls I occasionally store things that thepolice and private detectives would give a great deal to be able tolay their hands on. It is an excellent hiding place, and it servesseveral other purposes besides."

  "So I see," muttered Culligore with a glance at the man on the cot.Fairspeckle's face bore a dazed look and he seemed to understandnothing of what was being said, but his staring eyes held anexpression of terror.

  "I would like to know," murmured Starr, fixing his pale eyes on thelieutenant's inscrutable face, "how and when
you learned that I wasMr. Shei. I was under the impression that you suspected Fairspeckle."

  "I meant you should be," said Culligore with a dry chuckle. "I knewsomebody was listening behind the marble ledge the day I had that talkwith The Gray Phantom upstairs, and I guessed it was either you or oneof your men. I pretended to believe that Fairspeckle was Mr. Shei, andI encouraged The Phantom in thinking the same thing, but all the whileI was talking for the benefit of the fellow behind the marble slab. Ihad a pretty good suspicion as to who Mr. Shei was, and I wanted tothrow him off his guard. Once a man gets careless it isn't hard tocatch him."

  Starr grinned appreciatively. "I'll admit that you are far shrewderthan you look, Culligore, but I am not so sure that I have been guiltyof carelessness. That remains to be seen. What I am curious to know iswhen you first began to suspect that I was Mr. Shei. You see, I havenothing to fear from you, so I frankly admit the fact. But I wouldlike to know by what sort of reasoning you were led to suspect me."

  "There wasn't any course of reasoning," said Culligore, maintaining asteady grip on his pistol. "It was only a flash here and there. Thefirst flash came when I saw the note Virginia Darrow sent you thenight she died. I guessed then that she had learned in some way thatyou were Mr. Shei, and she wanted to tease you with it. A littlelater, when you were handed that bump on the nose, I didn't knowexactly what to think. Then it came to me that, if you really were Mr.Shei, you would have yourself assaulted along with the others to turnsuspicion away from you. It was a clever move, Mr. Starr, but itdidn't fool me for long. Well, a number of other things happened thatstrengthened my suspicion, but I wasn't really sure until I walkedinto this room to-night."

  Starr scowled a little. "You are a bit disappointing, Culligore. I hadhoped you would give me an example of fine-spun deductive reasoning ofthe kind that always drips from the lips of story-book detectives.Just one more thing before we close this pleasant interview. How doyou account for Mr. Fairspeckle?"

  "Oh, that part was fairly easy. Fairspeckle is a queer sort, but henever did any real harm. He's been troubled with insomnia, and when aman can't sleep, he's likely to do any foolish thing, from writingpoetry on a park bench to murdering his mother-in-law. The deeper themystery, the simpler the explanation. That has been my experience, andit has held true in Fairspeckle's case. I'm not dead sure of my facts,but I can make a pretty close guess. The night Mr. Shei's notices wereposted, Fairspeckle had been roaming the town as he always did when hecouldn't sleep. He saw one of the notices in Times Square and, beingone of the seven richest men in town, he didn't like the idea a bit.Then The Gray Phantom came strolling along, and Fairspeckle recognizedhim. Like many others, he jumped at the conclusion that The Phantomwas Mr. Shei, and right away he began to study out a way of beatingMr. Shei's game.

  "By some hook or crook he got The Phantom into his apartment, andthere he tried to drug him. He had two objects in view. One of themwas to keep The Phantom under cover for a time so he wouldn't be ableto go on with his scheme, and the other was to get even with certainenemies of his by throwing an almighty scare into them. While the realMr. Shei, as he supposed, was a prisoner in his apartment, he meant tocarry the scheme just a step or two farther--just far enough to putfear into his old enemies. It just so happened that five of thoseenemies were among the seven richest men in town. Well, Fairspecklegot a typewriter and went to work and typed a new set of notices,supplementing the ones that had already been posted. I hope he had agood laugh while he was typing the seven names, for that's all thegood his scheme did him. A few hours later he was kidnaped. That wasanother fairly clever move, Starr."

  Starr seemed to enjoy the compliment. "Thanks, Culligore," hemurmured. "I knew you would appreciate that little touch. Afteroverhearing the conversation between you and The Phantom, in which Ithought you made it plain that both of you suspected Fairspeckle, Isaw a still more effective way to divert suspicion from myself. Sinceyou already suspected Fairspeckle, as I thought at the time, itoccurred to me to let the suspicion take firmer root by havingFairspeckle disappear. A man who vanishes mysteriously is always anobject of suspicion."

  Culligore nodded absently. Only half his mind had been on Starr'sspeech. Now, still holding the automatic firmly leveled, he came astep closer to the other man.

  "I don't like to muss you up," he said softly, "so please put out yourhands and make no trouble."

  Starr chuckled amusedly. "You are really surprisingly simple,Culligore. Your pistol doesn't frighten me, for I know you won't useit. And arresting me won't do you any good. If you put me in jail, theantidote will never be found, and then seven of the biggest men in thecountry will die. Don't you see, Culligore, that there isn't a thingyou can do?"

  His tones were soft and teasing, and his words expressed the same ideathat Culligore himself had voiced in Inspector Stapleton's presence.Slowly the lieutenant ran his eyes over the walls. The undergroundchamber, and especially the steel chests stacked along the side, wouldserve excellently as a hiding place. What more natural than theantidote should be concealed in one of the chests? It seemed----

  He got no farther in his reasoning. Too swiftly for Culligore tointerfere, Starr's hand moved to the wall at his side. A faint clicksounded, and then blackness fell. Culligore sprang forward, butalready a loud slam signified that the door had closed. He hurledhimself against it, but he might as well have been pitting hisstrength against a brick wall.

  "Trapped!" he muttered.