Detective Fiction Weekly. Vol. 51, No. 2, June 28, 1930

“The notes all told me to stop this diamond faking, as they called it, or I would die,” went on the professor, not heeding the lieutenant’s remark. “This morning, after the papers had announced the demonstration that is to take place here to-night, I received the final note, in which I was told that if I tried to interest this diamond expert to-night in my trickery I would not leave this room alive. You have examined the room.”

“Yes,” said the lieutenant briefly.

The professor leaned forward tensely.

“There will be few guests here,” he said very low, his keen eyes on the young officer’s. “I will give you a list of them. The man who has been writing me these notes is in love with my wife, as well as desirous of possessing himself of my priceless formula for making these gems.”

“But then,” said the lieutenant a bit disgustedly, “you know the man.”

“I do not,” said the professor, leaning back again. “That is just it. I do not. Caresse, my wife, is most tactful. She is a very clever woman. Yet I know that she loves some man and that they are both plotting to get rid of me and to get their hands on the formula.”

“But if you are killed here in a sealed room, and some time afterward one of the men who were present starts to manufacture diamonds, how will he escape discovery?” asked Williams.

“That is exactly what will happen,” said the professor. “You do not properly estimate the brains of my enemy. My wife would never care for a stupid man. I have lost her because I dabbled too much in this room. But who would not, with such a fortune as this at stake? Do you realize what it means to make diamonds?”

“Yeah,” grinned the lieutenant, “but I don’t believe you can do it. No, you’d never get by with that, professor.”

“I sent for you to ask if you or one of the best men you have in your department will come to my dinner tonight,” said the professor coolly. “I am accustomed to laughter, sneers, incredulity. I ask only to prove what I can do. People must believe their eyes. Also, I want the protection of the police. I am to die to-night, lieutenant. And my work is not finished. All that I ask is that the man who kills me never dares use what my brain has discovered. This will not be like a crime out in the crowded world. You have convinced yourself that the only exit from this room is by that door, and that only myself, my wife and you possess the combination.”

“But if your wife has it and loves this man, she can give it to him,” said the lieutenant.

“Yes, that is why I told her,” chuckled Wheatland. “If she lets him use it to come in or out, he is identified. Jock looks like a meek person, but he is an ex-pugilist and he shoots from the hip. When I am not in here all night Jock is. Until I finance my vast venture we take no chances. I told my wife that combination to trap her, and the man she loves. But she is far too clever to use it. You have not met Caresse.”

Surely, thought the lieutenant, the man was a little mad. But for a moment the wild idea occurred to him that possibly the fellow could make a diamond! For weeks the papers had been giving him a lot of publicity and his several demonstrations before all sorts of men had been most successful. But no hard-boiled police lieutenant could swallow that stuff! The chap was a crook, despite his reputation and his social position.

Chapter II

The Ghost Violin

“What is it you wish me to do if I attend your dinner tonight, professor?” asked the lieutenant after a moment during which he sat studying the room.

“Nothing,” said Wheatland grimly. “Just come and watch and wait. There will be plenty for you to do. After dinner we come in here, all of us, for the demonstration. I lock the door with the combination only you, my wife and I myself know. If Caresse has told this man she loves he will not dare to use it lest he brand himself.”

“Give me the list of your guests,” said the lieutenant, interested in spite of his incredulity; conscious of a thrill that was not entirely pleasant. Something seemed to warn him that he was standing on the threshold of danger.

Drawing a bit of paper toward him the professor wrote rapidly a list of names and addresses.