The Shadow - 293 - The Mask of Mephisto by Maxwell Grant

Author:Maxwell Grant
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Street & Smith
Published: 1945-06-30T22:00:00+00:00

“Only that they knew nothing about Chardelle’s deal with the Lottery,”

returned Selbert. He paused, to add casually: “I’m rather inclined to believe them.”

“Then why not believe me?”

“Because Tourville and Aldion were accounted for at the time of Chardelle’s death,” declared Selbert. He tapped a diagram with his pencil.

“Tourville was here beside the orchestra platform and Aldion was at the outer door.”

Ferrand stared at a big letter “M” which marked the beginning of a curved line that trickled into a row of dots.

“I suppose the ‘M’ stands for Mephisto and is supposed to mean me.”

“It might,” said Selbert drily, “and we’d know for sure if you traced the rest of the line for us. We’re sure you must have gone as far as the third floor, but where you went after that, we don’t know.”

“Suppose I couldn’t tell you?”

“Do you mean couldn’t or wouldn’t, Ferrand?”

“Both,” retorted Ferrand, “since you want to be obstinate about it. You seem to think that I was lurking upstairs in the Mephisto costume, that I came down, shot Chardelle, fled upstairs again, jumped on a saddle-pigeon and flew back to Bayou Yscloskey.”

Ignoring Ferrand’s humor, Selbert studied the diagram.

“You couldn’t have dropped to the front alley,” Selbert decided, “but you might have doubled around through there after coming down from a side roof.

There’s a passage around Hoodoo House, leading through a gate into the alley.

Doubling back seems to be your specialty, Ferrand.

“You doubled back through Moubillard’s shop” - Selbert’s eyes lifted and fixed steadily on Ferrand - “although you could have taken a side alley to another street. There’s a gate alongside of Moubillard’s too. Maybe you’re forming bad habits, Ferrand.”

Of the many eyes that were on Ferrand, the steadiest were Cranston’s. He wanted to get the bearded man’s reactions and with good reason. Cranston knew that Selbert was playing a wrong hunch in talking about doubling back. That trail at Moubillard’s hadn’t been reversed by the man who murdered the old costumer.

Whatever Ferrand knew, he didn’t betray it. Instead, he seemed inclined to

keep Selbert guessing and did so. There were other eyes that gazed questioningly

at Ferrand, a violet pair belonging to Joan Marcy. Then, rather than stare too long, the girl let her gaze drift, and she noted how closely Cranston was watching Ferrand.

Joan’s chance observation stirred a curious recollection that was to produce immediate results.

“Don’t tell us you couldn’t have gone to Moubillard’s,” Selbert was saying

to Ferrand. “You were seen at the Borneau Mansion earlier and we checked the time. It gave you just the right number of minutes to get over to the costume shop -“

“I was seen at the Borneau Mansion?” interrupted Ferrand. “Why, I wasn’t within miles of the place. Who says they saw me there?”

“Miss Marcy, for one.”

Ferrand wheeled so savagely toward Joan that she stepped back quickly past

Trenhue’s protecting arm. Before Ferrand could question Joan, Selbert did it for

him.

“Tell us, Miss Marcy,” said Selbert. “Didn’t you see somebody in a Mephisto Mask at the Mansion?”

“Why, yes,” admitted Joan. “Only -“

“Only

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