"Right here was the bottle of poison," he said. "Little pills, like the others. A single pill wouldn't have mattered — that's the way they were to be taken. Strychnine, you know — prescribed once by Garwood's physician.
"But Garwood swallowed four, by mistake. We figure he must have opened the medicine chest and seen the bottle. Forgotten about the old bottle here, you know. Took it along with him, and left the other bottle where it was—"
Cardona was listening mechanically. He was staring at the open window. His keen mind was finding another explanation — one that meant murder!
How easy it would have been for someone to reach through that window from the row of eaves. How easy to remove the bottle from the shelf, and to put the poison in its place! How easy to wait until Garwood had left to take his nightly dose, then to replace the ordinary medicine on the shelf where it belonged!
"Garwood was married?" Cardona asked thoughtfully.
"Yes," replied his companion. "His wife was out. She arrived home at ten o'clock, to find her husband dead. She was broken up, and went to a friend's house. Guess she'll come back here later. Garwood was worth a million, anyway. No children — just the widow left—"
The rest of Cardona's questioning was a hollow sham. He was sure that there had been murder here, but his entire theory was based upon speculation. The matter was outside his bailiwick. If the death had happened in New York, Cardona would have gone into a devious study of the ways whereby some unknown individual might have learned of Garwood's habits, and thus planned the crime. But Cardona realized that to act now would mean a long discussion of the matter with the Philadelphia authorities.
It would be better to wait; to rely upon new developments, rather than give away the fact that he had spotted a crime in Philadelphia that could be linked with the killing in New York. Any reference to Garwood's death as a murder would produce sweeping headlines in the Philadelphia newspapers. The murderers — for Cardona was convinced that there was collusion in this plotting — would be on their guard.
Cardona's faith in The Shadow was restored. He thanked the Philadelphia detective for his service, and returned with the man to headquarters. He left on an afternoon train for New York. As the express sped along the rails, Cardona wondered. He was sure that The Shadow — at the seance — had sensed some danger that threatened Geoffrey Garwood. That was why The Shadow had disappeared so suddenly.
The man of the dark must have visited Garwood's home, too late to save the victim's life. But he had seen the opportunity for crafty murder, and had — in his own mysterious way — notified Cardona, so that the sleuth might see the evidence also.