Kolchak The Night Strangler by Richard Matheson, Jeff Rice Page B

years.”
    Crossbinder was genuinely shocked. “Good God! I must get down there more often.”
    Berry was still carrying the envelope.
    “Is this it?”
    “Yes, Mr. Kolchak. I thought perhaps…”
    “You have thought correctly, Mr. B. Bless you!”
    I was having trouble with the envelope because of the handcuffs.
    “Captain, will you open this for me?”
    “Kolchak, you were brought to this meeting. It was not arranged for your convenience!”
    I couldn’t stand it any longer. This was definitely my last chance. Sink or swim.
    Will you please, for God’s sake, listen to me? Please! These are facts here. Cold, hard facts ! Not suppositions!
    “Item: Dr. Richard Malcolm lived in New York City and served in the Union Army throughout the Civil War. He returned to New York until 1868 and then he moved to Seattle.
    “Item: Several months before he moved, six women were strangled over a period of eighteen days. Their larynxes were crushed and their necks broken. Two of them had small wounds at the bases of their skulls. The sources of this information are available to check out.
    “1868, I might add, is twenty-one years before the first group of Seattle strangulations.”
    I had their attention at last!
    ’Item: following the fire of 1889—in which Dr. Malcolm’s wife, stepson and step daughter died of smoke inhalation—Dr. Richard Malcolm disappeared. It might interest you to note that the bodies of his family also disappeared.
    “1889, as we know, just happens to be the year in which the first group of six killings occurred.”
    Schubert started around his desk for me. “Kolchak…”
    “Schubert, give me a chance. You can slap me in your dungeon later.
    “In 1910, Dr. Malcolm Richards appeared on the scene. The Westside Mercy Hospital—of which Dr. Richard Malcolm was one of the founding staff members—was an all-but-forgotten memory, buried almost up to its roof in dirt from the post-fire construction. Over this defunct hospital he built his Free Clinic.
    “1910, by some strange coincidence, just happens to be the year in which the second group of six killings occurred. Again: six broken necks and six corpses with needle marks at the bases of their skulls. Six victims missing blood.”
    Schubert moved in on me again. He was going to slug me. But Crossbinder roared out: “Wait, Captain. Let him finish.”
    “Item: In 1931, following reports that he had developed some kind of—quote: ‘strange, degenerative skin disease; unquote—Dr. Malcolm Richards disappeared.
    “1931, just by coincidence, mind you, just happens to be the year in which the third group of similar killings occurred.”
    I fumbled with the envelope, extracted the photo of Dr. Malcolm in his army uniform and handed it to Schubert, who stood clenching and unclenching his fists.
    “The 1931 killings were thoroughly covered by a Chronicle reporter named James L. Stackhaus, who used the pen name ‘Jimmy Stacks.’”
    I handed two more photos that I had taken of my art work of Malcolm-Richards on the Clinic’s framed memorial to the reluctant Schubert.
    “Item: This photograph of Dr. Malcolm Richards, slightly ’doctored’ by me, for which I have been arrested, is identical to the original tintype of our own Major Richard Malcolm, Union Army Medical Corps… right down to the white scar over the right eye. The face is the same. Only the clothes have changed and the beard removed.
    “Note that the original photo was taken during the Civil War. The photo of Dr. Malcolm Richards was taken in 1916, four years after he founded the clinic. It shows a man in his mid-40’s.
    “It is the same man. Anyone care to tell me how a man more than 90 years old can retain the vigor of his middle years? Never mind. I have the answer.”
    I was really rolling now. I told them everything I could remember of what I’d so hastily read about alchemists, puffers, the story of St. Germain, and his odd “diet.”
    “Item: Dr. Richard Malcolm, according to