The remainder of the day was spent quite pleasantly, strolling about the grounds and on the white, foam-edged beach, or lolling on the large, conformable porch.
We had dinner at six, and I was enjoying a cigar in the swing shortly thereafter, when I heard the throb of a motor in the driveway and the big car of Dr. Dorp came into view.
He drove up to the curb, and I saw that he had four men with him. Each was carrying a large package covered with khaki. The packages were placed on the porch, and the doctor presented his four companions, as Mr. Easton, civil engineer, Mr. Brandon, electrical engineer, and Messrs. Hogan and Rafferty, detectives. At a sign from the doctor, the two detectives immediately strolled out into the shrubbery.
“We’re going to make a few preparations for the show this evening,” he said, addressing me. “Want to come along?”
“Of course.”
“All right. Each man grab a bundle. We haven’t much time before dark.”
I took up one of the khaki-wrapped packages, which was far from light, and each other man did likewise. The doctor led the way around the house, and down to the beach.
Directly behind the house we unwrapped two of the packages. One proved to be a set of surveyor’s instruments which the civil engineer quickly assembled. The other looked very much like a radio set with its loop aerials and dials, although there was no speaker or headphone with it. The radio set was placed on a small folding table, and Mr. Easton sighted from that point, while I acted as roadman and Mr. Brandon as chainman. We measured off a distance of two thousand feet in a straight line along the beach, the doctor following with the other package. At that point, the other radio-like machine was assembled and placed on a folding table. We left Mr. Brandon with this machine, and went back to the first one.
“Now, Evans,” said my friend. “You and Mr. Easton go back to the house and keep Miss Van Loan company. As soon as it begins to get dark go into the living room and occupy the same positions as last night. Mr. Easton has a false beard with him, and will be disguised to look like me. Caution Miss Van Loan, when she is inside the house, to address Mr. Easton by my name. Do not, under any circumstances, tell her this while you are in the house. When you hear my motor racing outside, come out. Mr. Easton will remain. Rafferty will then go in to take your place. Is everything clear?”
“Perfectly.”
We found Miss Van Loan on the porch, and I whispered our plans to her while Easton adjusted his whiskers. He was about the same build and height as the doctor, and thus disguised, bore considerable resemblance to him.
We chatted on the porch until dusk, then went into the living room and took our seats. Presently the door opened and closed as on the night before. Then the lights went out. Hearing a rustling sound near the door, I looked, and saw the gleaming print of a human foot forming on the carpet. In a moment another had formed in front of it while the rustling sound continued. The first footprint disappeared and a third formed in front of the second. It was as if some invisible entity were walking toward the center of the room, leaving luminous tracks which disappeared each time a foot was lifted.
The footprints stopped, and drew together, side by side, in the center of the room. Then there was a slight thump, and a wispy form, similar to the one we had seen the night before, began to materialize while the two footprints slowly faded. The thing reached a height of more than six feet, wabbling this way and that as if scarcely able to support its own weight, while the horrible odor we had noticed the night before permeated the room.
Suddenly the lights flashed on, and the apparition disappeared. Noticing that there was something glistening on the floor where the thing had stood, I went over to investigate. There was a small pool of clear, foul-smelling liquid rapidly soaking into the rug. As I bent over to examine it I heard a cry of warning from the girl and a quick movement behind me. I turned, but could not move in time to avoid the heavy chair which was rushing toward me. It knocked me flat, fell over me, righted itself, and came back, apparently bent on my destruction. I managed to roll out of its way and get to my feet, but it promptly chased me to the davenport, behind which I took shelter.
“Holy mackerel!” exclaimed the pseudo Dr. Dorp.
The chair, apparently realizing that it was baffled, swung about and quickly returned to its place in the corner.
The phenomena, thus far, including the materialization of the spectre, had taken a little more than half an hour. I heard the sound for which I had been listening—the roar of the doctor’s motor.
“A remarkable chair, doctor,” I said. “The thing rather fagged me. I think I’ll step out on the porch for a breath of cool air.”
The door obligingly opened for me when I left the room. The front door, however, was already open. Rafferty was standing on the porch.
“Go on down to the car,” he whispered. “The doctor’s waitin’ for you.”
I went, and climbed into the front seat beside the doctor. Detective Hogan was in the back seat. We whirled away with moaning gears.
The doctor handed me a folded map.
“Open this, will you, Evans?” he requested. “Hold it beneath the dash light. I don’t want to miss the road.”
I opened it, and found it was a detailed map of Lake County. A large triangle had been traced on the paper, its smallest angle resting on a spot marked with an X, apparently some eight miles due west of our present location.
“Does X mark the spot where the body was found?” I asked, as we spun around onto Sheridan Road on two wheels.
“It marks the spot where I expect to find the source of Miss Van Loan’s troubles,” replied the doctor. “It isn’t far, as the crow flies, but there is no through road to it. We have a roundabout trip of about sixteen miles ahead of us.”
We continued north on Sheridan Road for nearly four miles. Then we swung west at Highwood, continuing in this direction for about eight miles. Turning south on the Milwaukee road at Halfday, we covered another three miles of road before the doctor slowed his terrific pace.
“Take the wheel now, will you?” he requested, “and drive slowly.”
We changed places, and I started off at a speed of about ten miles an hour. The doctor lifted a small portable radio set from behind the back seat, adjusted the tuning dials, and slowly moved the loop aerial back and forth until there was an angry buzz from inside the machine. He then continued to slowly turn the loop aerial as we moved along, apparently with the purpose of keeping it in a position where the machine would buzz the loudest.
I noticed that, at first, the direction of the loop only made a very slight deviation from the direction in which we were going. Gradually, however, the deviation grew greater until the loop stood at right angles to our course. We were, at the moment, passing the entrance to a lane, which led to a farmhouse set back about half a mile from the road. As we continued past the lane the aerial gradually straightened out toward our course.
About a thousand feet beyond the entrance to the lane was a brightly-lighted filling station. We stopped there, left the car in charge of the service man, and started across the fields. When we had gone a short distance, the doctor handed me an automatic pistol.
“I hope we won’t have to do any shooting,” he said, “but it’s safer to be prepared.”
It took us all of ten minutes to reach the farmhouse. It was in darkness, except for one of the rear rooms, which was dimly lighted. Admonishing us to tread carefully, the doctor led the way around the house. As we rounded the rear porch, I saw that a four-wire aerial had been stretched between the gable of the house and the barn. A wire connected to the aerial led down into the dimly lighted rear room.
Instructing us to stay where we were, the doctor crept stealthily up on the porch and peered through the window. For five minutes at least he stood there, looking into that room while we waited below. Then he turned and beckoned to us. Neither Hogan nor I lost any time in getting up to the window. I’m sure he was as curious as I to learn what was going on in that room.
Seated on a long bench before an instrument board which contained a bewildering array of dials, buttons and levers, was a short, bull-necked man. He wore a close-cropped, bristling pompadour, a thin, fiercely upturned moustache, and an immense pair of thick-lensed, horn-rimmed spectacles. A set of headphones covered his ears, and his pudgy hands worked incessantly with the levers, dials and buttons on the board before him. The only light in the room came from a panel of frosted glass which was just above the instrument board. On the panel, which the operator constantly watched, was a very clear shadow picture of the living room I had quitted only a short time before, in the home of Miss Van Loan.
From where I stood I could see Miss Van Loan and the pseudo Dr. Dorp seated just as I had left them, while Rafferty, who was impersonating me, was staging a quite lively wrestling match in the center of the room with the chair which had proven so hostile toward me earlier in the evening.
At a sign from Dr. Dorp, we drew our weapons and tiptoed to the door. It was locked, and the key was in place, but Hogan opened it quickly and silently with a small tool which he carried for the purpose. Before he was aware of our presence we had the operator surrounded and covered. The doctor jerked the phones from his head, and said:
“Hands up, Mr. Hegel. You are under arrest.” His look of surprise and alarm was quickly followed by a sullen frown as he thrust his pudgy hands aloft.
“Arrest? For what?” he demanded belligerently.
“Nivver mind for what, my old buckaroo,” said Hogan, snapping the handcuffs on his wrists. “I’ve a warrant in me pocket that covers ivverything from interferin’ wid the radio reception on the north shore down to attempted murder. Come away wid yez now, and don’t try no shenanigans, or be the lord Harry, I’ll quiet yez wid this gun butt...”
Some two hours later, having left Hegel in the care of the proper authorities, we were gathered in the living room of the Van Loan home—the girl, the two engineers, the two detectives, Dr. Dorp, and I. All were seated but the doctor, who stood before the fireplace. He cleared his throat and looked around with his well-known lecture-room air.
“Now that the author of the strange phenomena which have confronted us in this house has been apprehended,” he said, “explanations, and such further investigations as are needed to completely clear up the mystery, are in order.
“You are all aware that the manifestations we have witnessed were under the control of an operator established in an old farmhouse eight miles west of here, and that the mechanism he used was a powerful and complicated radio set. In order that you may thoroughly understand how Ernest Hegel was able to make inanimate objects react to our movements as if they were endowed with minds, let me explain that he could both see and hear what was going on in this house as well as if he had been here in person. Planted in this very room in such a clever manner as to escape notice except by the most careful scrutiny, are powerful lenses which acted as his eyes, and microphones which served as his distance ears. If Miss Van Loan does not mind a slight mutilation of her walls in the interests of our investigation, I will disclose one of each.”
“I should like to see them, doctor,” said Miss Van Loan.
The doctor took out his pocket knife and opened it. Then he walked to the wall opposite us and scrutinized it very carefully. Presently he held the point of the knife to a small spot which resembled thousands of other spots on the mottled pattern of the wallpaper, and said:
“Can you see this opening?”
We all replied that we could not, and crowded around him. As we drew close to it a small hole about the diameter of a lead pencil became visible by concentration on the spot touched by the knife. Unless we had been deliberately searching for it, it is probable that it would have gone entirely unnoticed, due to its location on one of the dark spots in the pattern of the paper itself.
“This,” said the doctor, “is one of Hegel’s eyes.” He lightly tapped inside the hole with the point of his knife and we heard it click against some hard substance. Then he cut a square of paper and plastering from around it, disclosing a black box which bore a close resemblance to a small camera with a tiny lens in front. Taking a small screwdriver from his pocket, he removed the front of the box, the back of which was covered with row on row of small, circular affairs which he described as photoelectric cells.
“Each cell,” he said, “responds, according to the strength of light or shade which strikes it through the lens, with a different wave length. These various wave lengths are combined and transmitted from a common antenna. At the receiving station, the process is reversed, and this image is built up on ground glass by various vibrating light beams. For a thorough description of this process, which I will not go into here, I refer you to the book, ‘Radio for All.’ There are four ‘eyes’ like this one in this room alone. Every other room in this house is as thoroughly equipped.
“And now for the ears.”
He examined the wall until he found another hole, into which he thrust the knife blade. Then he removed another square of wall paper and plaster, revealing one of those instruments with which we were all familiar—the microphone.
“As this instrument needs no explanation,” he said, “I will now show you how our friend Hegel managed to lock, unlock, open and close doors from a distance of eight miles.”
He walked to the door and opened it.
“This door,” he said, “shows no signs of having been tampered with in any way, yet I am convinced that there are at least two electric wires connecting it with the current which Hegel tapped somewhere in front of the meter—I have not yet discovered where.”
With his screwdriver, he removed the bottom hinge, while we crowded around him. Then he started to remove the top hinge, but found that the first screw he tried would not turn. Abandoning it, he removed all the other screws, then inserted the screwdriver beneath the hinge, and pried. The hinge came loose, but revealed the fact that the screw had been soldered to the metal back, and to a heavy wire which now protruded from the wall. The whole thing had been insulated with electricians’ tape, and the block of wood in which it was fastened had been cut out, surrounded with sealing wax, and replaced. He next removed the other side of the hinge from the door, and found it similarly connected and insulated, the wire leading to the interior of the door.
Having cut the wire with a pair of pliers, the doctor laid the door on its side and removed the lock and latch. Both were controlled by an ingenious arrangement of electromagnets. The return current, he found, was through round-headed, insulated contact screws, one on the door, and one on the door jamb against which it fitted.
He next turned his attention to the bottom of the door. It was evident at a glance, that a long strip of wood had been removed, replaced with glue, sanded and varnished. Using his screwdriver as a chisel, he pried up the strip of wood, and removed from the cavity behind it a heavy bar of iron.
“Now,” he said, “if you will follow me to the basement I will show you the mechanism which acted on this bar of iron, causing the door to open or close.”
We filed down into the basement behind him, and he led the way to a point directly beneath the living room door. The ceiling was covered with plasterboard, a block of which he removed. Fastened to the floor in a semicircle was a string of large electro-magnets.
“All of these magnets,” he said, “were caused to act in their turns by impulses of varying wave lengths which closed and opened their circuits. Naturally they pulled the bar of iron although separated by two heavy layers of wood, as there is no insulation which will stop magnetic waves, thus closing or opening the door at the will of the operator. The poker and the heavy overstuffed chair were caused to travel about the room in the same manner, the latter probably having iron bars inserted in the legs, by utilizing other electro-magnets fastened beneath the floor and concealed by this plasterboard.
“While we are here we may as well clear up the mystery of the luminous footprints, for I see the removal of this square of ceiling has already disclosed a part of the mechanism. You will observe here, a glass tube, above which there are two lead plates. The top plate is movable, and is connected with an electro-magnetic device for moving it. In the bottom plate is cut in miniature, the shape of a human footprint. The glass tube is what is known as a Crookes Tube, and the rays which emanate from it when an electric connection is established are known as X-rays. Although these rays are, in themselves, invisible, some of them have the property of making certain substances phosphorescent. The rays which have this property can be cut off by a lead screen of the correct thickness. One of the substances which can be rendered luminous is sulfid of zinc, and is probably the one used, although I have not yet had an opportunity to verify this. The substance, whatever it may be, has probably been ground into exceedingly minute particles and rubbed into the rug above our heads. A luminous footprint can thus be made to appear on the rug by the simple expedient of turning on the current in the Crookes Tube and sliding back the upper plate in such a manner that the toe prints will first be visible, then the ball of the foot, and finally the heel. I’m sure that if we remove more squares of plasterboard we will find a row of these contrivances about two feet apart, leading to a point beneath the center of the room, where two of them will be found side by side. For the present, however, we will go upstairs to continue our investigation in other directions.”
When we were once more in the living room, the doctor asked for a stepladder, and Riggs was sent to bring one. When he brought it, the doctor placed it in the center of the room and climbed up to where the central lighting fixture projected from the wall.
“In this fixture,” he said, “are concealed one of the sources of the icy breath, and also the source of the ghastly and foul-smelling spectre which rose from the center of the floor on two succeeding evenings. You will observe that the entire fixture, central hemisphere and surrounding collar, appears to be made from frosted glass. The central hemisphere from which the light emanates is glass, but the surrounding collar is of metal covered with a white substance. That white substance is common frost.”
So saying, he scraped off a quantity of the frost and handed it down to us for our inspection.
“Please take special notice of the designs on this collar,” he said, “for they are particularly well suited for the purposes for which our friend Hegel intended them—a series of circles, each about an inch from the other, reaching entirely around the collar. I will now do by force what the builder of this device previously did by mechanical means, controlled by radio.”
He took the screwdriver and, reaching up, inserted the end and pried at one of the circles. It came open, revealing the fact that it was a small hinged trap door. What surprised us the most, however, was the fact that a small white globe fell out of it and broke on the rug.
“Switch off the lights for a moment,” he said.
Someone pressed the light switch, and all of us saw the now familiar vision of a spectre materializing from the floor.
“Turn them on,” he ordered.
They were turned on once more.
“The ghost,” he said, “is nothing more than a mixture of foul-smelling gases, one of which is slightly phosphorescent. This mixture, as you will observe, is visible in the dark but invisible in the light. The gas is imprisoned in small, thin globes of ice which shatter when they strike the rug, and melt in a few seconds, leaving no trace other than a few drops of water which quickly evaporate or are absorbed by the rug fibres. These globes are kept in a small refrigeration plant which is just above my head, and which is probably quite thoroughly insulated against heat. The intense cold in this plant is produced by a substance which is not new to science, but the use of which for this particular purpose is quite new. The substance is frozen CO₂ or carbon dioxide, and when expanded into a gas it is identical with the substance that gives zest to soda water and bottled beverages. It has a temperature of 114° below zero, Fahrenheit, and evaporates to a dry gas without going through the intermediate liquid state with which we are familiar in most substances.
“The cold air and gas from this refrigerating chamber, when propelled into the room by small, noiseless fans through others of these hinged openings which do not contain the gas balls, creates the phenomenon of the icy breath. It can also create the illusion of a light touch from a cold hand, as I have proved experimentally. The slight breeze moving the small hairs on one’s hand or arm gives the sensation of one having been lightly touched while the coldness of the breeze makes it appear that one has been touched by something cold. The closet, in which I came so near being asphyxiated and frozen to death, is equipped with a similar refrigeration plant, and it is probable that we shall find more of them which have not been used, in other rooms.
“The matter of the lights going out and again being turned on will be settled as soon as we can find the radio-controlled rheostat and switch which operates them. Is everything clear?”
“You have not explained what it was which drove my dog mad,” Miss Van Loan reminded him.
“Your dog,” he said, “had hydrophobia. As I found a bottle of the virus which produces this disease in the house occupied by Mr. Hegel, I don’t think it at all remarkable that the dog was infected. No doubt it was acquainted with and friendly toward your cousin, who found an opportunity to inoculate it when it was ranging on your estate. The queer behavior of the dog, thereafter, is common to all animals that contract the disease. In my opinion the dog was inoculated three or four days ago. It would certainly have died within a few hours, had you not shot it when you did.”
“What I cannot understand,” said Mr. Brandon, the electrical engineer, “is how Mr. Hegel found the time or opportunity to install this complicated array of electrical equipment. Mr. Van Loan, I understand, had only been dead a little more than a month.”
“I made a few investigations today which cleared up that point,” replied the doctor. “It is a matter of common knowledge that Gordon Van Loan died from cancer of the stomach. Mr. Van Loan was not aware that he had this disease, although both his niece and nephew had been apprised of the fact nearly a year before his death by the family physician. They had also been informed that an operation would be fruitless and fatal, and were told almost to the day just how long their uncle would live.
“Last winter, in the vain hope that he might better his condition, Gordon Van Loan went to Florida for a three months’ stay, taking his two servants with him. Some time before, the nephew had left in a huff after Mr. Van Loan, in a fit of anger, had disclosed to him the contents of the will he had made. Being in possession both of the knowledge of the will and the probable length of time his uncle would live, Hegel laid his plans for winning the estate. Just before Mr. Van Loan left for Florida, he visited him, saying that he was out of a job and penniless, and asking that he might be given something to do in order that he might earn some money. The house was badly in need of cleaning and decorating, and, as he had good taste in this line, he was permitted to oversee the work of papering, painting, and varnishing while his uncle was away, asking in return only a very small salary and the privilege of rooming in the house. His uncle turned over the keys of the house to him, paid him his salary in advance, and established credit with a firm of decorators.
“Hegel’s supposed trip to Europe was, of course, only a blind to hide his recent operations here. Are there any more questions?”
“Yes,” said Mr. Easton. “Now that Hegel has been apprehended, what can the law do with him? What charges can be placed against him?”
“He will be charged with robbery, resisting an officer, and attempted murder. You see he robbed a radio and camera shop after stealing a small truck, in order to get equipment for this elaborate installation, which his slender means would not permit him to buy. A police officer on night duty saw him just as he was leaving the shop, but Hegel wounded him with a revolver shot, and escaped. As he left fingerprints, and the stolen articles will be easy to identify, there is no possible way for him to escape final and certain conviction.”
THE END
Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in the September 1927 issue ofAmazing Storiesmagazine.
Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in the September 1927 issue ofAmazing Storiesmagazine.