Treasures of Death
- Автор: Грант Максвелл
- Серия: The Shadow #44
- Год: 1933
- Язык: английский
- Год: Street and Smith
- Жанр: Крутые детективы
Электронная книга - «Treasures of Death». Краткое содержание книги:
“One door conceals my press; another my bindery. A third hides the studio. A fourth, my storage room. I am a man of many parts — with capable assistants. Sanyata is a clever copyist of manuscripts; Mercher is an excellent imitator of old printing. Both are skilled at binding.
“Here in this house, I forged the spurious works which were substituted for rare books and manuscripts. Compton Salwood was my outside man. He went to appointed places and left false objects for the genuine ones that I desired. As a detector of forged prints and manuscripts, I had access to many libraries and studies of wealthy men. I was the brains behind the efforts of Compton Salwood.”
Old Galban smiled as he stared at Joe Cardona. He could see the question on the detective’s lips. Galban chuckled as he answered it.
“When Salwood was of no more use to me,” declared the old man, “I ordained his death. I sent Sanyata to make sure that Salwood would come here. When Salwood did not start out as soon as expected, Sanyata rang for him. Sanyata was admitted. He killed Salwood.”
Galban glanced approvingly at the Japanese. Sanyata smiled, the first time that he had shown such an expression. His teeth gleamed.
“I killed him with the knife,” stated the servant.
Joe Cardona stared in amazement. This was an unexpected revelation. Joe turned toward Wendel Hargate. The millionaire smiled grimly, even though he knew the end that threatened him.
“Neither of us is due to get out of this, Cardona,” growled the millionaire. “Just the same, since Galban has sprung his part of the game, I may as well let you in on my side of the story.”
“An excellent idea,” approved Eli Galban.
“I GUESS you thought I was pulling something,” asserted Hargate, as he faced Cardona. “I was — in a sense. I never told you who sold me that Villon manuscript. I’ll tell you now. Compton Salwood was the man who sold it to me.
“I had an idea that it had been stolen. Nevertheless, it was mine after I paid for it. But I was keeping it under cover. That’s why I didn’t want you to take a look at it. But when I brought out the manuscript, I found that I was as badly off as Terry Barliss. I had a fake — just like his.
“That’s why I shut up like a clam. I knew who had stolen it from me. Compton Salwood was a double-crosser. He stole the manuscript after he had sold it to me.”
“At my order,” laughed Galban.
“My only plan was to go after Salwood,” resumed Hargate, paying no attention to Galban’s comment. “I sent Thibbel on the job. He made the mistake of taking Sooky Downing and a mob. They got into trouble. Thibbel was the only one to get away.
“When you uncovered wholesale thefts, I realized that some one bigger than Salwood had engineered the game. I decided it must be Galban. So I planned to break into this place and get back the manuscript that belonged to me.
“Terry Barliss broke in on me in the meantime. I had a battle with him; after he was curbed, I told him the whole story. I told him what I intended to do; when he knew that Galban was the real crook, he decided to work along with me. That’s why we’re here tonight. We sent Thibbel in ahead. He ran into trouble.”
“I killed him,” interposed Galban, with a chortle. “For a poor old cripple with rheumatism, I can wield a powerful war club.”
Harry Vincent understood all now. Terry Barliss met his gaze and nodded. But to Harry came still greater realization. He saw the part that The Shadow had intended to play. He had sent Harry to watch Galban’s not to protect the old fiend but to aid those who were coming to attack him!
“Enough!” exclaimed Galban, rising to his feet. “I knew you would be coming here, Hargate. Your position made it impossible for you to call in the police. I gave your name to Barliss so that he would go to see you. The game was up so far as Salwood was concerned.
“I feared none of the victims. But I had swindled you and I saw trouble there. I wanted you to try to get me after Salwood was out of the way. I was ready for you. This is the result.”
THE old man was glowering fiercely. For the first time, he had dropped his mask. He was a fiend, whose glaring eyes were more hideous than those of Corry Fawkes. His face was more loathsome than that of his monstrous servant.
“You have come here to die!” announced Eli Galban. “Death will be swift — within this room. The place is fitted with openings to admit a flow of lethal gas. We shall leave you here to die.
“After that” — Galban’s chuckle was an ugly one — “there will be embalmed bodies with my collection of waxwork figures. You, Cardona, will be in the uniform of a police chief. You, Hargate, will represent King Midas. As for Barliss and Vincent” — Galban shrugged his scrawny shoulders — “I can decide upon them later.”
Striding to the center of the room, Galban motioned to Fawkes and Sanyata. Both backed toward the door of the elevator. Sanyata, like Fawkes, was brandishing a huge revolver. There was no chance for the prisoners to make an escape.
“Sanyata killed Salwood,” announced Galban. “Fawkes has handled his victims in the past. I slew Thibbel. Therefore, I shall use a new executioner. Let me introduce him. Until now, he has been a very quiet member of my band. Tonight, he will release the gas that will cause four deaths.”
Galban beckoned to Lycurgus Mercher. The secretary arose and came cringing forward. He grinned in whimsical fashion.
“Look them over, Mercher,” suggested Galban. “Study them well; this is the last time they will be seen alive. Then we can descend in the elevator. From the ground floor, it will be your part to draw the release that will mean their doom!”
With a final chuckle, Eli Galban retired toward the closed door of the elevator, to await his secretary’s evil inspection of the four who were to die.
CHAPTER XXIV
THE FINAL TRIUMPH
A SMILE showed on the bloodstained face of Lycurgus Mercher as the secretary studied the faces of those whom he had been delegated to slay. Then, with a peculiar sarcasm in his voice, the secretary spoke.
“Eli Galban has told his story!” he exclaimed. “It should have been obvious to all of you. I could have told you that some one other than Thibbel slew Compton Salwood. The knife in Compton’s body was evidence of that.
“Why should Thibbel or the mobsmen — armed with revolvers — have used a knife — why” — Mercher was staring toward Cardona — “should Salwood have been forced to leave by eleven to keep an appointment with his unknown master? Only because he was going farther than to Hargate’s. To this house, for instance, an hour from New York.”
Harry Vincent was staring hard at Mercher. The pale face of the secretary was gleaming with strange vigor. His eyes were sparkling vividly.
“There were other clews,” came Mercher’s strained tone. “Articles that were taken from Salwood’s office. Hargate’s odd behavior. Useless capsules in place of the stimulating pills that were so important to the fading life of Shattuck Barliss. Eli Galban has not told you all!”
“Come, Mercher,” ordered Galban, as the secretary paused. “You have said enough. It is time that these men should die.”
Mercher was stooped forward in cringing fashion. His hands were against the front of his coat. As he stood there, the door of the elevator clicked as Eli Galban opened it.
“Die!” shrieked Mercher’s voice. “You ask that I should kill them! Can the dead kill the living? Can Lycurgus Mercher kill — when he lies dead in the cellar of this house? No! But I can kill! I am the living who has taken the place of the dead!”
With these words, the form of Lycurgus Mercher wheeled and straightened. From beneath his coat, his hands swung forth two automatics. Eli Galban, startled, was staring into a face that was Mercher’s and yet was not!