Although he was capable at solving cryptic statements, Cardona was no hand at making them. He began to scrawl on a sheet of paper. His first effort failed, and he scowled as he crumpled the paper and threw it away.
This experience was repeated. Before long, the place was littered with the detective's attempts to word a message that would have a special meaning to a person who could read between the lines. At last, with a much-penciled sheet before him, Cardona sat back in his chair and scowled. He heard a slight shuffling at the door, and looked up to see the familiar figure of Fritz, the taciturn janitor, who liked his job so well that he often spent evenings cleaning up at police headquarters. The sight of Fritz forced a grin to Cardona's perspiring face. For once in his life, the stolid janitor appeared nonplused. He was staring, in apparent bewilderment, at the havoc which Cardona had wreaked. Balls of paper everywhere.
"Clean it up, Fritz," said the detective. "Stick around a while. I'll have a lot more for you. I'm just playing a game by myself."
"Yah," responded the stoop-shouldered Fritz, stooping to pick up the crumpled sheets of paper. Joe Cardona, forgetting the janitor's presence, transcribed these words from the heavily penciled sheet:
Murder of Herbert Harvey New Elements Entering Death Hotel Employees Left Penniless Seance Had A Dozen Offhand Witnesses
A noticeable point about Cardona's writing was the size of the capital letters in the three lines beneath the top. These letters were so large that they spelled a statement in themselves. It read:
NEED HELP SHADOW
The weakness of the idea did not escape Cardona. He knew that the remarks, if they appeared in print, would appear with letters in lower case, instead of capitals.
He could not dictate just how type must be set up. It would give the game away. However, it was the best that he could do.
He transcribed the statements to another sheet, to see how they would look in print, and he shook his head mournfully at the result.