Rocks talked to Kennedy. The burly detective said, "If this was an ordinary murder, I would know how to handle it. The first thing we always look for is the motive. When we find that, we've got the killer. But there's no motive here—there's not anything. Frankly, Malone, I'm up a tree. We've got to find that thing, and destroy it, quickly. Supposing it should start wandering loose through the streets of Chicago—" The detective shuddered. "Malone, if you have any ideas, let's have them. I admit I don't know what to do."
Rocks had been thinking too. "This thing came out of that box back in the museum. If the secret of controlling it is anywhere, it's written on the lid of that box." He gritted his teeth. "I don't think we have a chance in a million of cracking that language, but right now it's the only thing I see to try."
"We'll go back to the museum," said Kennedy. "I can't help with the language, but I want another look around that place."
The authorities responsible in cases of sudden death had already arrived at the McCumber home. Kennedy left a special detail to guard Penny. He and Rocks went back to the museum.
Rocks went to work. He began to try to crack the hieroglyphics written on the lid of the box. That his task was all but impossible, he well knew.
He could read Sanskrit, Babylonian cuneiform, and Egyptian picture writing with fair readiness. He could translate ancient Hebrew and ancient Greek. An archeologist had to know these languages.
He thought the writing on the box might be in one of these languages.
He began with Morton's notes.
Then the telephone rang again. Kennedy went to answer it. He came back very excited.
"That was the girl—Penny," he said. "She may have something. She described a piece of round glass and said her grandfather had found it in his pocket tonight as he left the museum. She wanted to know if we had found it. I didn't. Did you?"