But to Joe Cardona, it seemed miraculous. It was as though The Shadow had spoken to him alone; then an invisible hand had wiped away the words, so that no doubting eyes could see them.
Cardona’s face was worried. He thought he would have to explain his excited statement. That would make him look ridiculous, particularly so in the eyes of Commissioner Weston.
How could he explain? To say that he had seen the name of The Shadow written there, would incur the commissioner’s rage. It would prove beyond doubt — so far as Weston was concerned — that Cardona’s mind was shaky.
Mayhew, alone, had glimpsed the writing, but had not read it.
By good fortune, Cardona was saved from his dilemma. It was Biscayne who rescued him, without knowing it.
The professor was pointing to the typed lines. His finger rested upon the inevitable initials.
This message read:
IN MEMORY OF A. W. WHO DIED LAST NIGHT THE FIFTH — AND LAST
“A. W.,” said Biscayne soberly, “means Arthur Wilhelm. He was to be the last victim. He has been saved — saved from a horrible death — saved by luck alone!”
Commissioner Weston nodded. The reign of terror had ended. This was to be the final crime. Unlike the others, it had failed.