CHAPTER V--DANGER
Coolly, though every nerve and muscle in his body were on the alert, thePhantom took a case from his pocket and lighted a cigarette. He stoodface to face with a peril of a tangible and definite kind. Theprotecting beard was dependable only so long as he did not attract theattention of the police and invite a closer scrutiny. It would not forlong deceive an officer whose training had made him habituallysuspicious of appearances and who had been drilled in the art of seeingthrough disguises.
Voices came from the outer room, Mrs. Trippe's surly tones clashing withthe gruff accents of Officer Pinto. The Phantom felt a tingle ofsuspense. It was the kind of situation he would have thoroughly enjoyedbut for the fact that in this instance he could not jeopardize hisliberty without also endangering his purpose.
Footsteps approached, and presently a stocky figure, with thehousekeeper hovering behind, stood framed in the doorway. The Phantom,smiling serenely, felt instant relief the moment he glanced at the heavyand somewhat reddish features, with the unimpressive jaw and the stolidlook in the eyes. Pinto might be a faithful plodder and a dangerousadversary in a physical encounter, but it was plain that he possessedonly ordinary intelligence.
"Well, who're _you_?" bluntly demanded the officer.
It was the housekeeper who answered. "He says he is Mr.----What did yousay your name was?"
"Mr. Adair, of Boston," replied the Phantom with an air of superbtranquillity, adding the explanation he had already invented for Mrs.Trippe's benefit. "Hope I'm not intruding," he concluded.
Pinto stepped inside, his eyes fixed on the Phantom's face in a hardstare. Then, by slow degrees, the churlish expression left his featuresand a slightly contemptuous grin took its place.
"You're welcome," he declared. "Go as far as you like. I s'pose you'retrying to dope out how the Phantom got out of the room. Well, believeme, you'll have to do some tall thinking."
The Phantom chuckled affably. Evidently Pinto had classified him as oneof the harmless cranks who flock in the wake of the police whenever amysterious crime has taken place.
"I was just discussing the problem with Mrs. Trippe," he announcedeasily. "It's a fascinating riddle. I infer it has gripped you, too,since you come here in civilian clothes while not on duty."
"Well, I've been kidding myself along, thinking maybe I would find thesolution." Pinto's face bore a sheepish look. "There's got to be asolution somewhere, you know, and----"
"And it would be a feather in your cap if you were the one who found itfirst," put in the Phantom genially. "Perhaps it would mean promotion,too--who knows? But has it occurred to you that the murderer's exit isno more mysterious than his entrance? If he accomplished a miraclegetting out, he also accomplished a miracle getting in."
"The Phantom's strong for the miracle stuff, all right. But it'spossible Gage himself let the murderer in. Maybe he expected somebody tocall. Anyhow, we know the villain got in somehow. What I'd like to knowis how he got out."
The Phantom's eyes had been on the floor, near the point where,according to the newspaper articles he had read, Gage's body must havebeen found. Of a sudden he looked up, and the gaze he surprised inPinto's slyly peering eyes sent a tingle of apprehension through hisbody. He wondered whether the patrolman was as obtuse as he seemed.
"I understand," he said without a tremor in his voice, "that you foundthe room dark upon breaking in. Couldn't the murderer have slipped outwhile you were looking for the light switch?"
"Huh!" The contemptuous snort came from Mrs. Trippe, who, with armscrossed over her chest, stood in the rear of the room. "How could he,I'd like to know, with me standing right outside the door and a crowd ofrubbernecks at the main entrance?"
The Phantom seemed to ponder. The theory he had just suggested did notseem at all plausible, and his only purpose in mentioning it had been toturn Pinto's thoughts in a new direction.
"I'd swear the rascal wasn't in the room when I broke in," declared thepatrolman with emphasis.
"And he couldn't have got out before," remarked the Phantom, with agrin. At the same moment he felt Mrs. Trippe's eyes on his face. She wasgazing at him as if his last remark had made a profound impression uponher. He sensed a new and baffling quality in the situation, somethingthat just eluded his mental grasp, and he began to wonder whether thehousekeeper did not know or suspect something which she had not yettold.
"The Phantom's a devil," observed Pinto, again slanting a queer glanceat the other man. "Nobody of flesh and bone could pull off a stunt likethis. Maybe some day he'll tell us how he did it. He'll be roped inbefore long. Say," with a forced laugh, "wouldn't it be funny if heshould get caught right here, in this room? They say a murderer alwayscomes back to the scene of his crime."
All the Phantom's self-control was required to repress a start. Pinto'sremark, though uttered in bantering tones, was entirely too pointed tohave been casual, and the gleam in his eyes testified that hissuspicions were aroused.
"I think the Phantom's talents have been grossly overestimated. When heis caught we shall probably find that he is quite an ordinary mortal.Don't you think so, Mrs. Trippe?"
The woman started, then mumbled something unintelligible under herbreath.
"Well, maybe," said Pinto. "I've got a feeling in my elbow that sayshe'll be caught before night, and then we'll see. He may be an ordinarymortal, but I'll be mighty interested to know how he got out of thisroom. Got any ideas on the subject, Mr. Adair?"
The Phantom's frown masked the swift working of his mind. "Yes, but youwill laugh when I tell you what they are. My frank opinion is that thePhantom had nothing whatever to do with this murder."
Mrs. Trippe stared at the Phantom as if expecting an astoundingrevelation to fall from his lips.
Patrolman Pinto, too, seemed taken aback. A little of the color fledfrom his face, and for an instant his eyes held an uneasy gleam. In amoment, however, he had steadied himself, and a raucous chuckle voicedhis opinion of the Phantom's last statement.
"Say, you amateur dicks make me laugh. The Phantom had nothing to dowith it, eh? Well, if he didn't commit this murder, maybe you'll tell uswho did."
The Phantom, quiveringly alert, strolled across the floor and backagain. There was a bland smile on his lips and the amused twinkle in hiseyes concealed the tension under which his mind was laboring.
"That's asking a lot of an amateur detective, isn't it?" he suavelyinquired. "Maybe it will help you, however, to know how the situationlooks to a lay-man. You say you are willing to swear that the murdererwas not in the room when you broke in. It is almost equally certain,viewing the matter in the natural order of things, that he could nothave left the room between the commission of the crime and your forcibleentrance. Therefore----"
He broke off, feeling a violent rush of blood to the head. He had beentalking against time, hoping to find a way of diverting Pinto'ssuspicions from himself. Suddenly it struck him that his ramblingdiscourse had led him straight to the solution of the mystery. Therevelation flashed through his mind like a swift, blinding glare. Tohide his agitation he lighted a cigarette. Through the spinning rings ofsmoke he saw the housekeeper's ashen face, mouth gaping and eyes staringwith fierce intensity.
"Well?" prompted Pinto. His voice was a trifle shaky.
The Phantom was himself again. "Well, as I was about to say, if themurderer was not in the room when you broke in, then the circumstancespoint straight to you, Mr. Pinto, as the murderer of Sylvanus Gage."
For a time the room was utterly still. The policeman seemed torn betweenastonishment and a nervous fear. The housekeeper held her breath, herfeatures twisted into a smile that rendered her expression ghastly.
"I knew it!" she cried. "I knew it all the time!"
"You must be crazy," muttered Pinto, at last finding his voice.
"Not at all. But for the fact that you are an officer in good standing,you would have been suspected immediately. In the light of all thecircumstances, it stands to reason that the man who broke through
thedoor was the man who murdered Gage. No one else could have done it. Mrs.Trippe, do you remember how long Pinto was alone in the room afterforcing his way in?"
The housekeeper seemed to search her memory. "It took him severalmoments to find the electric light switch," she mumbled haltingly."After that--well, he was in there for some time before he came out.Maybe two minutes, maybe five--I can't be sure."
"At any rate, long enough to drive a knife into Gage's chest." There wasan exultant throb in the Phantom's tones, the eagerness of the hunterwho is tracking down his quarry. "Gage, we may assume, was awakened bythe noise when the door crashed in, and sprang from his bed. Youprobably grappled in the dark. Then----"
Pinto interrupted with a harsh, strident laugh. "Some cock-and-bullstory you're handing us! If I killed Gage, then Mrs. Trippe here musthave been in on the job. It was she who called me and told me to forcethe door."
The Phantom waved his hand airily. "Because she had heard a mysteriousnoise. That noise may have been prearranged to give you a chance toknife Gage. I don't pretend to understand all the minor details yet, butthe essentials are clear as day. You must have committed the murder, forthe simple reason that nobody else could have done it."
"Yeh?" There was a vicious sneer in Pinto's face. "Maybe you'll tell me,then, why Gage thought the Phantom was the one who knifed him."
"Because of the forged letter he had received the day before. Besides,Pinto, we don't know that Gage thought anything of the kind. We havenothing but your word for it. You were the only witness to thedeclaration you say Gage made. A man who will commit a cowardly murderis also capable of telling a lie."
Great bluish veins stood out on Pinto's forehead. "You're doing fine foran amateur dick," he jeered. "All you've got to do now is to figger outa motive, and the case will be complete."
"Motive? Ah, yes! The Duke has a habit of recruiting his men in queerplaces. Once he had an assistant district attorney on his staff; atanother time an associate professor of philosophy with a penchant forforbidden things. Why shouldn't he have a hard-working patrolman?"
Pinto's figure squirmed beneath his gaze.
"Such a man would prove useful to the Duke, especially if he wanted toframe an enemy," pursued the Phantom. "Nobody suspects a policeman. Aman in uniform is beyond reproach. Even if the circumstances of a crimepoint straight to him as the perpetrator, it is always easier to suspectsomebody else, particularly someone who has a criminal record. I guessyou banked on that, Pinto."
His tones bespoke a free and easy confidence, but he felt none of it. Hebelieved that the murderer of Sylvanus Gage stood before him, but hisonly reason for thinking so was that, so far as appearances went, no oneelse could have committed the crime. He was poignantly aware that histheory would be laughed at and derided, and that he himself would besubjected to the hollow farce of a trial which must inevitably result inhis conviction. Once in the clutches of the police, his chances ofclearing himself would be extremely slender. "Well, Pinto, what aboutit?" His tones were clear and faintly taunting, giving no hint of theswift play of his wits. "Did you take the precaution of arranging analibi?"
"No, I didn't." The policeman spoke defiantly. For an instant he fumbledabout his pockets, as if searching for something. Evidently the objecthe wanted was not to be found about his civilian garb. "I didn't have tofix up an alibi. Say, Mr. Adair----"
He paused for a moment and came a step closer to the Phantom.
"Say," he went on, "while you're telling us so much, maybe you'll tellus how long the Gray Phantom has been wearing a beard."
Momentarily startled by the verbal thrust, the Phantom was unpreparedfor the physical attack that instantly followed. He felt the suddenimpact of the policeman's ponderous body, precipitating him against thefarther wall of the chamber. In a moment, with unexpected agility, theofficer had seized Mrs. Trippe by the arm and hurried her from the room.
Then a door slammed and a key turned gratingly in the lock. The GrayPhantom was alone, a prisoner.