The Avenger 24 - Midnight Murder Read Online Free PDF

windowless storeroom. Dick Benson herded his sullen prisoners in there, closed the door and bolted it. He turned to the four down the hall.
    “Have any of you seen a woman, or girl, around here?” he demanded.
    All shook their heads looking more bewildered than ever.
    “Look around the building and the grounds immediately outside, Mac,” said Benson. “I distinctly saw a woman a while ago, running toward the laboratory.”
    Mac left, and The Avenger strode toward the four. One of them, a pudgy fellow with pink hands and neck, smiled suddenly. It was a friendly, welcoming smile.
    “Oh! I recognize you, now. You’re Richard Benson. But who are all those men?”
    The Avenger told him briefly.
    “My heavens!” said the man. “An army about to attack us! It was certainly fortunate you came when you did. But let me introduce myself. My name is Spade. Robert Spade. These three are Frank Boone, Chester Grace, and Ray Ryan.”
    The acknowledgment of the introduction on the part of the three was not what you’d call a very grateful one.
    Burly Chester Grace, whom Benson had already recognized, glared murderously. Frank Boone grunted. The one called Ryan didn’t look, say or do anything. He just turned on his heel and walked down the hall, followed in an instant by the other two. A door boomed angrily as it was slammed behind the three.
    “Well!” said Spade, mopping at his forehead. “My gracious! They don’t seem very grateful, do they? I must apologize for them. Come into my office, won’t you? We’ll talk this over.”
    He turned into a large room, fitted luxuriously with walnut desk, chairs, divan, and lamps. The Avenger followed, pale eyes unreadable and face masklike. Spade sat behind his desk and waved hospitably to a chair.
    “I’ve heard of you chiefly in connection with large financial deals,” Spade said. “You financed the Texas Synthetic Rubber Corp., I believe. But I’ve also heard of you as a relentless fighter of crime. Since we don’t need financing, I assume you are here in connection with the latter activity, particularly after the way you apprehended and brought in those criminals who somehow broke into our enclosure. Dressed in our guards’ uniforms, too, some of them!”
    The Avenger told what had drawn him here, how he had happened to be at the scene of the plane crash in which Aldrich Towne, of this laboratory, had died. He did not mention the slightly magnetized bit of steel he had fished from the fragments.
    Robert Spade sighed.
    “Poor Towne,” he said. “Dying like that. But if you’re investigating, I suppose it’s because you think it wasn’t an ordinary plane crash. You know, I think it was deliberate, too. Sabotage, perhaps, to destroy what the plane carried. Or perhaps that Carroll boy, the pilot, really was making an attempt to get away with—”
    He stopped abruptly.
    “Get away with what?” said Benson.
    Spade smiled cautiously.
    “My dear sir, really! You don’t think I can tell you what that plane carried? It was a thing so secret that even the war department does not know what it could be. The two army procurement officers were shown, but they took their knowledge to their graves.”
    “Never mind,” said The Avenger quietly. “I believe I know quite exactly what the device is supposed to do, if not precisely how it works. Tell me, what precautions did you take at the airfield?”
    “Towne carried it personally in a sealed suitcase,” said Spade. “Chester Grace went along to watch Towne. This was not because any one of us here does not trust the other; it was at Towne’s own request. If any theft should take place, he could be absolved of all possible blame by Grace.”
    “Go on,” nodded Benson, pale eyes unblinking and enigmatic as they rested on Spade’s amiable face.
    “A mechanic in our employ,” said Spade, “looked over the plane to be sure nothing had been tampered with. He also prepared for the installation of the . . . er . . . thing. So,