“You actually believe,” continued Weston, “that the final report on a solved case should be free of all extraneous impressions and unsound notions?”
“Certainly,” said Cardona.
“Then why” — Weston’s voice was deliberate as he tapped the typewritten papers — “why have you frequently left an element of profound uncertainty in connection with cases that you have declared to be completely closed?”
Cardona looked puzzled. He tried to grasp the commissioner’s thoughts, but failed. The detective did not know what to reply, and Weston seemed to enjoy Cardona’s bewilderment.
“Let me speak more specifically,” declared Weston, leaning back in his chair. “In at least six of your reports, you have referred definitely to one individual, whom you claim has played an important part.
“You have established this person in your own mind. You have linked him with widely differing affairs. Yet, you have not presented one tangible bit of evidence to prove that this person is a single individual.
“He might be one, as you suggest. He might be three. He might be six. He might” — the commissioner’s voice slowed with emphasis — “he might be none at all!”
“You mean” — Cardona was speaking in a confused manner — “you mean that I — that in those cases—”
“I am referring,” interposed Weston, “to a person whom you have called The Shadow; an individual whom I am forced to regard as mythical.”
THE words were stunning to Cardona. The detective realized that the commissioner had picked his weakness.