And then he looked blank. Because the place had very obviously not been wrecked. And yet a metal ring had vanished, leaving no trace….
Von Holtz came back. He looked frightened.
“A—a repairman, Herr Reames,” he said, stammering, “is on the way. And—Herr Reames….”
Tommy barely heard him. For a moment, Tommy was all scientist, confronted with the inexplicable, yet groping with a blind certainty toward a conclusion he very vaguely foresaw. He waved his hand impatiently….
“The Herr Jacaro is on the way here,” stammered Von Holtz.
Tommy blinked, remembering that Von Holtz had told him he could make a certain metal, the only metal which could be moved in the fourth dimension.
“Jacaro?” he said blankly.
“The—friend of the Herr Professor Denham. He advanced the money for the Herr Professor’s experiments.”
Tommy heard him with only half his brain, though that half instantly decided that Von Holtz was lying. The only Jacaro Tommy knew of was a prominent gangster from Chicago, who had recently cemented his position in Chicago’s underworld by engineering the amalgamation of two once-rival gangs. Tommy knew, in a vague fashion, that Von Holtz was frightened. That he was terrified in some way. And that he was inordinately suspicious of someone, and filled with a queer desperation.