The Shadow 293 The Mask of Mephisto by Maxwell Grant

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

“Only I’m not sure it was Fred.”

“Didn’t you speak to him?”

“Yes, I did.”

“And he answered, didn’t he?”

“In a way, yes,” Joan conceded, “but I couldn’t swear it was Fred’s voice.”

“Trying to disguise it, was he?”

“I don’t know.” Joan frowned, then brightened suddenly. “Yes, frankly I think the voice was disguised. In fact I have an idea who might -“

The last words were lost, drowned by the ugly snarl that Ferrand hurled Joan’s way. Fred was calling the girl a double-crosser, but he spent a while getting to the term, due to a supply of preliminary adjectives. This time, however, Ferrand was reckoning rightly with Captain Selbert.

Coming around from his desk, Selbert caught Ferrand off guard and by the shoulders, spinning him with a twisty shove that landed Ferrand in a chair that broke and deposited him in its wreckage. Facing Joan, Selbert demanded abruptly: “All right. Are you sure or aren’t you as to the person in that mask?”

Joan’s reply was to Selbert, but her eyes were elsewhere. The girl was looking straight at Cranston when she said: “I am not sure.”

Old Tourville and young Aldion were helping Ferrand to his feet, promising him their moral support as well as physical, but Ferrand wanted none of it.

Delivering a contemptuous snarl in Joan’s direction, Ferrand faced Selbert in challenging style.

“Since I need an alibi,” declared Ferrand, “I’ll give you one. Come down to the bayous with me and talk to the people there. We’ll find somebody who will remember seeing me some time last night.”

“I’ll make the arrangements,” agreed Selbert, tactfully. “Meanwhile everyone else is free to leave. Only I’d like you all to be on call, particularly you two.”

By “you two” Selbert meant Tourville and Aldion, as he indicated. A pair of detectives took custody of Ferrand while the rest of the group filed out, Cranston included. There were two persons, however, who paused outside the door of Selbert’s office.

Cranston noted them: Joan Marcy and Rolfe Trenhue. But it wouldn’t have been good policy to have stayed and eavesdropped on their conversation.

Besides, Cranston had a good idea what it was all about and the accuracy of his surmise was to prove itself quite soon. His whispered laugh, unheard as he departed, was more than vaguely reminiscent of The Shadow’s.

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