Henshew's apartment - at least, an attempted one!'
'What!' Chanbury came to his feet, behind the desk. 'When did that happen, Tyrune?'
'At nine o'clock - just after Henshew got back from Philadelphia. And who do you think pulled the job?
Shark Meglo!'
Chanbury looked incredulous. Tyrune shook his head.
'That ruins our theory,' said the dick. 'Henshew is on the level. I was down there, after I heard about it.
The place was a wreck! Shark and his outfit just about ruined it. Joe Cardona was there getting the details -'
'Tell me something,' inserted Chanbury. 'Does Henshew know you came here?'
'I don't think so. I was going to call you on the telephone, but I changed my mind. Too many people there. I thought I'd better run out and see you.'
Chanbury seated himself at his desk. He pressed a buzzer to summon a servant. He asked if Miss Merwood had retired; the servant replied that she was reading in the library. Chanbury requested her presence in the portrait room.
While they were waiting, Chanbury told Tyrune that he intended to dictate a statement, and that he wanted careful check on every detail. Tyrune nodded wisely, although he wondered just what new theory Chanbury might have to offer.
Eleanor arrived. She seemed surprised to find Chanbury and Tyrune in conference:
'I didn't know that you would need me this evening, Mr. Chanbury,' said the girl. 'You weren't here when I came back from town. I only stayed in for dinner. I could have worked tonight.'
Chanbury explained that he had not intended to do any work, and had, therefore, retired early. Tyrune's late visit had called for this special session. Noting a calendar on the desk, he began a statement that Eleanor transcribed in shorthand.
'ON the evening of the sixth,' declared Chanbury, 'James Tyrune entered the apartment of Madden Henshew, in search of evidence regarding the Silsam robbery. He effected entry with a special pass-key, copied from one that he previously examined in the janitor's office. The special key is in our possession, as Exhibit A.'
Chanbury raised his hand for a pause. He turned to Tyrune, with the question:
'Is that satisfactory?'
'The facts are,' replied Tyrune, 'only I don't just know whether I had the right to go there.'
'Add this, Eleanor,' ordered Chanbury. 'Tyrune's action was done at the order of Michael Chanbury.'
Eleanor transcribed the statement; Tyrune looked relieved. Chanbury opened a desk drawer, to bring out the labeled pass-key. While he fished for it, he continued:
'Tyrune uncovered settings in the drawer of Henshew's writing desk. He did not, however, find the secret hiding place where Henshew kept his gems.'
'Wait a minute, Mr. Chanbury,' broke in Tyrune. 'The gems weren't at Henshew's at all!'
Chanbury sat astonished: 'What do you mean?'
'I mean that Shark didn't make a grab tonight,' explained Tyrune. 'He raided Henshew's apartment, and shot it all to pieces! Somebody - maybe it was The Shadow - was on his trail, to give him a battle. Half of Shark's crew was left there; but there's nothing gone.'
'Who told you that?'
'Henshew. He said he couldn't understand why Shark came there, unless it was a grudge. Henshew swears that he keeps all his gems at his office!'
Chanbury was pounding the desk.
'The fox!' he exclaimed. 'I see his big game. Of course, he couldn't let the police see that secret strong box behind the bookcase. It was too much like the place that the law found before.'
Tyrune started to say something. Chanbury stopped him with a wave. To Eleanor, he dictated:
'On the same night, the sixth, Henshew visited Michael Chanbury, to show him a collection of gems. We have a list of those jewels, personally compiled by Chanbury. Exhibit B.'
Forgetting the pass-key, Chanbury produced the list of the gems that he had copied from memory. He handed it to Eleanor, with instructions to type it later. To Tyrune, Chanbury said:
'Henshew will come here again, to inform me privately that the gems were actually stolen from his apartment. He will request me to keep the matter confidential. I shall have to agree, because Henshew could deny that he ever had such items. His word would be as acceptable as mine.'
TYRUNE seemed puzzled. He was stroking his pointed chin. Eleanor had taken down Chanbury's statement to the detective; she was about to cross it out, when Chanbury told her to keep it in the record.
He requested that she type it immediately.
'It is very simple,' said Chanbury to Tyrune. 'Henshew believes that I found out how grossly he undervalued my uncut diamonds. Fearing future trouble, he ordered Shark to fake the apartment robbery for two purposes. First, to make the law regard Henshew as another threatened victim; second, to give me a reason for calling off the jewel sale.'
Understanding showed on Tyrune's face. The dick grinned and nodded.
'I get it,' he said. 'Henshew sure is a fox! But how are you going to tag him, Mr. Chanbury?'
Chanbury sat, meditative. The prospect apparently baffled him; and Tyrune offered no suggestions. Both were pondering when Eleanor returned, bringing the typed statement and the copied list.
Chanbury signed the statement; Tyrune added his signature. Eleanor applied her name as witness, at Chanbury's suggestion.
'Let me think this over, Tyrune,' decided Chanbury. 'Of course, we must turn these facts over to the law. It would be better, though, if we had a plan before we called in Cardona.'
'You're right,' agreed Tyrune. 'Otherwise, he'll want to know why we mooched in on the case without putting him wise. Maybe I'd better call Joe and break the news to him.'
'A good idea!'
Chanbury folded the signed statement and the list. He placed them in an envelope, stating that he would add the pass-key later. Walking to the door with Tyrune, Chanbury suggested:
'Call me when you get home. I shall wait up to hear from you. By thinking it over, I may have some idea for a plan, if you have not struck upon one. We must put the whole story frankly when we give it to Cardona.'
They were at the front door. To Eleanor, Chanbury said: 'That will be all. And remember: this is confidential. You must not mention it to any one; particularly, not to that reporter, Burke. When the time comes for him to know these facts, he will receive them from Inspector Cardona.'
RIDING home in a bouncy taxi, Jim Tyrune kept muttering to himself, as he tried to solve the problem that Chanbury had presented. There were lots of angles to that robbery at Henshew's. The sooner Cardona knew them the better.
What Tyrune was looking for was some idea of his own, to add to whatever new suggestions Chanbury might offer. Tyrune solved the riddle to his own satisfaction, while the cab was rolling smoothly across an East River bridge.
The twinkling bridge lights showed the wise, pleased grin that registered upon the private detective's face.
Yes, he had it just as he wanted it. Once home he would call Chanbury; then Cardona. Only it would be up to Joe to give Tyrune full credit when the crooks were bagged.
Jim Tyrune was headed for the greatest event that had ever occurred in his drab career; one that would splash his name in heavy headlines. Not often in a lifetime did a fellow have a chance to crash the front pages. Once he hit the headlines, Jim figured, it would be easy to repeat.
That part of Tyrune's guess was wrong. His name was destined to crash the news much sooner than he thought; but after that, never again.
CHAPTER XX. MIDNIGHT MURDER
IT was past midnight when Joe Cardona received a telephone call at headquarters. Joe thought it was a routine call reporting more unsuccessful efforts at tracking Shark Meglo.
Why detectives called up to say that they hadn't found Shark, was a mystery to Cardona. He was willing to bet that if they did find Shark, Joe wouldn't know it until he read the next day's newspapers.
A dignified voice responded to Joe's gruff hello. The ace recognized the tone of Michael Chanbury. He heard
