A few minutes later, the mysterious presence had departed from the apartment which had once been occupied by Louis Glenn.
THERE was no one at home in the Sutton house. The lock of the front door clicked, and the door itself opened ominously.
The little light appeared and made its way across the hall to the closet where Thomas Sutton had met his unfortunate end.
There the light remained while an unseen hand opened the door and the rays enabled invisible eyes to scrutinize the interior of the closet.
The light went out. It reappeared in the living room upstairs.
Prying hands found the dead man’s check book. The stubs showed beneath the light. Each stub was considered carefully.
The first inspection finished, a hand reviewed each stub in turn, and stopped on one that bore the amount of ten dollars, with a notation “Med.”
The light was gone; the soft laugh of The Shadow rippled forebodingly through the silent room.
Some time afterward, there was a slight sound in a small, close-walled room. The noise — no more than a soft swish — was followed by the sudden appearance of a lighted lamp. Covered by a shade, the rays of the lamp were focused upon the plain top of a table. There, two white hands appeared.
They seemed to be living things — detached creatures that moved of themselves. Each wrist came from a jet-black sleeve.