THE FILM MYSTERY

BY

ARTHUR B. REEVE

AUTHOR OF

"The Soul Scar" "The Adventuress" and Other Craig KennedyScientific Detective Stories

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

 I. A CAMERA CRIME II. THE TINY SCRATCH III. TANGLED MOTIVES IV. THE FATAL SCRIPT V. AN EMOTIONAL MAZE VI. THE FIRST CLUB VII. ENID FAYE VIII. LAWRENCE MILLARD IX. WHITE-LIGHT SHADOWS X. CHEMICAL RESEARCH XI. FORESTALLED XII. EMERY PHELPS XIII. MARILYN LORING XIV. ANOTHER CLUE XV. I BECOME A DETECTIVE XVI. ENID ASSISTS XVII. AN APPEAL XVIII. THE ANTIVENIN XIX. AROUND THE CIRCLE XX. THE BANQUET SCENE XXI. MERLE SHIRLEY OVERACTS XXII. THE STEM XXIII. BOTULIN TOXIN XXIV. THE INVISIBLE MENACE XXV. ITCHING SALVE XXVI. A CIGARETTE CASE XXVII. THE FILM FIREXXVIII. THE PHOSPHORUS BOMB XXIX. MICROSCOPIC EVIDENCE XXX. THE BALLROOM SCENE XXXI. PHYSOSTIGMIN XXXII. CAMERA EVIDENCE

THE FILM MYSTERY

I

A CAMERA CRIME

"Camera!"

Kennedy and I had been hastily summoned from his laboratory inthe city by District-Attorney Mackay, and now stood in theluxurious, ornate library in the country home of Emery Phelps, the banker, at Tarrytown. 

"Camera!--you know the call when the director is ready to shoot ascene of a picture?--well--at the moment it was given and thefirst and second camera men began to grind--she crumpled--sank tothe floor--unconscious!"

Hot and excited, Mackay endeavored to reenact his case for uswith all the histrionic ability of a popular prosecutor before ajury. 

"There's where she dropped--they carried her over here to thisdavenport--sent for Doctor Blake--but he couldn't do a thing forher. She died--just as you see her. Blake thought the matter soserious, so alarming, that he advised an immediate investigation. That's why I called you so urgently. "

Before us lay the body of the girl, remarkably beautiful even asshe lay motionless in death. Her masses of golden hair, disheveled, added to the soft contours of her features. Herwonderfully large blue-gray eyes with their rare gift fordelicate shades of expression were closed, but long curlinglashes swept her cheeks still and it was hard to believe thatthis was anything more than sleep. 

It was inconceivable that Stella Lamar, idol of the screen, beloved of millions, could have been taken from the world whichworshiped her. 

I felt keenly for the district attorney. He was a portly littleman of the sort prone to emphasize his own importance and so, true to type, he had been upset completely by a case of genuinemagnitude. It was as though visiting royalty had dropped deadwithin his jurisdiction. 

I doubt whether the assassination of a McKinley or a Lincolncould have unsettled him as much, because in such an event hewould have had the whole weight of the Federal government behindhim. There was no question but that Stella Lamar enjoyed acountry-wide popularity known by few of our Presidents. Hersudden death was a national tragedy. 

Apparently Mackay had appealed to Kennedy the moment he learnedthe identity of Stella, the moment he realized there was anyquestion about the circumstances surrounding the affair. Over thetelephone the little man had been almost incoherent. He had heardof Kennedy's work and was feverishly anxious to enlist his aid, at any price. 

All we knew as we took the train on the New York Central was thatStella was playing a part in a picture to be called "The BlackTerror, " that the producer was Manton Pictures, Incorporated, andthat she had dropped dead suddenly and without warning in themiddle of a scene being photographed in the library at the homeof Emery Phelps. 

I was singularly elated at the thought of accompanying Kennedy onthis particular case. It was not that the tragic end of a filmstar whose work I had learned to love was not horrible to me, butrather because, for once, I thought Kennedy actually confronted asituation where his knowledge of a given angle of life was hardlysufficient for his usual analysis of the facts involved. 

"Walter, " he had exclaimed, as I burst into the laboratory inresponse to a hurried message, "here's where I need your help. You know all about moving pictures, so--if you'll phone your cityeditor and ask him to let you cover a case for the Star we'lljust about catch a train at One Hundred and Twenty-fifth Street. "

Because the film world had fascinated me always I had made apoint of being posted on its people and their activities. Iremembered the very first appearance of Stella Lamar back in thedays of General Film, when pictures were either Licensed orIndependent, when only two companies manufactured worth-whilescreen dramas, when any subject longer than a reel had to be ofrare excellence, such as the art films imported from France forthe Licensed program. In those days, Stella rose rapidly toprominence. Her large wistful eyes had set the hearts of many ofus to beating at staccato rate. 

Then came Lloyd Manton, her present manager, and the first of anew type of business man to enter the picture field. Manton wasessentially a promoter. His predecessors had been men carried tosuccess by the growth of the new art. Old Pop Belman, forinstance, had been a fifth-rate oculist who rented and soldstereopticons as a side line. With blind luck he had grasped thepossibilities of Edison's new invention. Just before the break-upof General Film he had become many times a millionaire and it wasthen that he had sent a wave of laughter over the entire countryby an actual cable to William Shakespeare, address London, askingfor all screen rights to the plays written by that gentleman. 

Manton represented a secondary phase in film finance. ContinentFilms, his first corporation, was a stockjobbing concern. Grasping the immense popularity of Stella Lamar, he had coaxedher away from the old studio out in Flatbush where all her earlysuccesses had been photographed. With the magic of her name hesold thousands of shares of stock to a public already fed up onthe stories of the fortunes to be made in moving pictures. Whenmuch of the money so raised had been dissipated, when Continent'squotation on the curb sank to an infinitesimal fraction, then itdeveloped that Stella's contract was with Manton personally. Manton Pictures, Incorporated, was formed to exploit her. Thestock of this company was not offered to outside investors. 

Stella's popularity had in no way suffered from the businessmethods of her manager. Manton, at the least, had displayed rareforesight in his estimation of public taste. Except for a fewattempts with established stage favorites, photographed generallyin screen versions of theatrical classics and backed byaffiliations with the producers of the legitimate stage, Continent Films was the first concern to make the five-reelfeature. Stella, as a Continent player, was the very firstfeature star. Under the banner of Manton Pictures, she had neversurrendered her position of pre-eminence. 

Also, scandal somehow had failed to touch her. Those initiated tothe inner gossip of the film world, like myself, were under noillusions. The relations between Stella and Manton were an opensecret. Yet the picture fans, in their blind worship, believedher to be as they saw her upon the screen. To them the wide andwistful innocence of her remarkably large eyes could not beanything but genuine. The artlessness of the soft curves of hermouth was proof to them of the reality of an ingenuous and verygirlish personality. 

Even her divorce had helped rather than harmed her. It seemedirony to me that she should have obtained the decree instead ofher husband, and in New York, too, where the only grounds areunfaithfulness. The testimony in the case had been sealed so thatno one knew whom she had named as corespondent. At the time, Iwondered what pressure had been exerted upon Millard to preventthe filing of a cross suit. Surely he should have been able tosubstantiate the rumors of her association with Lloyd Manton. 

Lawrence Millard, author and playwright and finally scenariowriter, had been as much responsible for the success of his wifeas Manton, and in a much less spectacular way. It was Millard whohad written her first great Continent success, who had developedthe peculiar type of story best suited for her, back in the earlydays of the one reel and General Film. 

It is commonly known in picture circles that an actress whoscreens well, even if she is only a moderately good artist, canbe made a star with one or two or three good stories and that, conversely, a star may be ruined by a succession of badly writtenor badly produced vehicles. Those of us not blinded by anidolatrous worship for the girl condemned her severely forthrowing her husband aside at the height of her success. Thepublic displayed their sympathy for her by a burst of renewedinterest. The receipts at the box office whenever her films wereshown probably delighted both Manton and Stella herself. 

I had wondered, as Kennedy and I occupied a seat in the train, and as he left me to my thoughts, whether there could be anyconnection between the tragedy and the divorce. The decree, Iknew, was not yet final. Could it be possible that Millard wasunwilling, after all, to surrender her? Could he preferdeliberate murder to granting her her freedom? I was compelled todrop that line of thought, since it offered no explanation of hisprevious failure to contest her suit or to start counter action. 

Then my reflections had strayed away from Kennedy's sphere, thesolving of the mystery, to my own, the news value of her deathand the events following. The Star, as always, had been only tooglad to assign me to any case where Craig Kennedy was concerned;my phone message to the city editor, the first intimation to anyNew York paper of Stella's death, already had resulted withoutdoubt in scare heads and an extra edition. 

The thought of the prominence given the personal affairs ofpicture players and theatrical folk had disgusted me. 

There are stars against whom there is not the slightest breath ofgossip, even among the studio scandal-mongers. Any number ofgirls and men go about their work sanely and seriously, concernedin nothing but their success and the pursuit of normal pleasures. As a matter of fact it had struck me on the train that this wasabout the first time Craig Kennedy had ever been called in upon acase even remotely connected with the picture field. I knew hewould be confronted with a tangled skein of idle talk, fromeverybody, about everybody, and mostly without justification. Ihoped he would not fall into the popular error of assuming allfilm players bad, all studios schools of immorality. I was glad Iwas able to accompany him on that account. 

The arrival at Tarrytown had ended my reflections, and Kennedy's--whatever they may have been. Mackay himself had met us at thestation and with a few words, to cover his nervousness, hadwhisked us out to the house. 

As we approached, Kennedy had taken quick note of thesurroundings, the location of the home itself, the arrangement ofthe grounds. There was a spreading lawn on all four sides, unbroken by plant or bush or tree--sheer prodigality of space, the better to display a rambling but most artistic pile of graygranite. Masking the road and the adjoining grounds was thick, impenetrable shrubbery, a ring of miniature forest land about theestate. There was a garage, set back, and tennis courts, and apractice golf green. In the center of a garden in a far corner asummerhouse was placed so as to reflect itself in the surface ofa glistening swimming pool. 

As we pulled up under the porte-cochere Emery Phelps, the banker, greeted us. Perhaps it was my imagination, but it seemed to methat there was a repressed animosity in his manner, as though heresented the intrusion of Kennedy and myself, yet felt powerlessto prevent it. In contrast to his manner was the cordiality ofLloyd Manton, just inside the door. Manton was childishly eagerin his welcome, so much so that I was able to detect a shade ofsuspicion in Kennedy's face. 

The others of the company were clustered in the living room, through which we passed to reach the library. I found smallopportunity to study them in the rather dim light. Mackaybeckoned to a man standing in a window, presenting him to Kennedyas Doctor Blake. Then we entered the long paneled chamber whichhad been the scene of the tragedy. 

Now I stood, rather awed, with the motionless figure of StellaLamar before me in her last pitiable close-up. For I have neverlost the sense of solemnity on entering the room of a tragedy, inspite of the long association I have had with Kennedy in thescientific detection of crime. Particularly did I have thefeeling in this case. The death of a man is tragic, but I knownothing more affecting than the sudden and violent death of abeautiful woman--unless it be that of a child. 

I recalled a glimpse of Stella as I had seen her in her mostrecent release, as the diaphragm opened on her receiving a box ofchocolates, sent by her lover, and playfully feeding one of themto her beautiful collie, "Laddie, " as he romped about upon adivan and almost smothered her with affection. The vivacity andcharm of the scene were in sad contrast with what lay before me. 

As I looked more carefully I saw now that her full, well-roundedface was contorted with either pain or fear--perhaps both. Eventhrough the make-up one could see that her face was blotched andswollen. Also, the muscles were contorted; the eyes looked as ifthey might be bulging under the lids; and there was a bluishtinge to her skin. Evidently death had come quickly, but it hadnot been painless. 

"Even the coroner has not disturbed the body, " Mackay hastened toexplain to Kennedy. "The players, the camera men, all were sentout of the room the moment Doctor Blake was certain somethingmore than a natural cause lay behind her death. Mr. Phelpstelephoned to me, and upon my arrival I ordered the doors andwindows closed, posted my deputies to prevent any interferencewith anything in the room, left my instructions that everyone wasto be detained, then got in touch with you as quickly as Icould. "

Kennedy turned to him. Something in the tone of his voice showedthat he meant his compliment. "I'm glad, Mackay, to be called inby some one who knows enough not to destroy evidence; whorealizes that perhaps the slightest disarrangement of a rug, forinstance, may be the only clue to a murder. It's--it's rare!"

The little district attorney beamed. If he had found it necessaryto walk across the floor just then he would have strutted. Ismiled because I wanted Kennedy to show again his marvelous skillin tracing a crime to its perpetrator. I was anxious that nothingshould be done to hamper him. 

II

THE TINY SCRATCH

Kennedy, before his own examination of the body, turned to DoctorBlake. "Tell me just what you found when you arrived, " hedirected. 

The physician, whose practice embraced most of the wealthyfamilies in and around Tarrytown, was an unusually tall, iron-gray-haired man of evident competency. It was very plain that heresented his unavoidable connection with the case. 

"She was still alive, " he responded, thoughtfully, "althoughbreathing with difficulty. Nearly everyone had clustered abouther, so that she was getting little air, and the room was stuffyfrom the lights they had been using in taking the scene. Theytold me she dropped unconscious and that they couldn't reviveher, but at first it did not occur to me that it might beserious. I thought perhaps the heat--"

"You saw nothing suspicious, " interrupted Kennedy, "nothing inthe actions or manner of anyone in the room?"

"No, when I first entered I didn't suspect anything out of theway. I had them send everyone into the next room, except Mantonand Phelps, and had the doors and windows thrown open to give herair. Then when I examined her I detected what seemed to me to beboth a muscular and nervous paralysis, which by that time hadproceeded pretty far. As I touched her she opened her eyes, butshe was unable to speak. She was breathing with difficulty; herheart action was weakening so rapidly that I had littleopportunity to apply restorative measures. "

"What do you think caused the death?"

"So far, I can make no satisfactory explanation. " The doctorshrugged his shoulders very slightly. "That is why I advised animmediate investigation. I did not care to write a deathcertificate. "

"You have no hypothesis?"

"If she died from any natural organic disorder, the signs werelacking by which I could trace it. Everything indicates theopposite, however. It would be hard for me to say whether theparalysis of respiration or of the heart actually caused herdeath. If it was due to poison--Well, to me the whole affair isshrouded in mystery. The symptoms indicated nothing I couldrecognize with any degree of certainty. "

Kennedy stooped over, making a superficial examination of thegirl. I saw that some faint odor caught his nostrils, for heremained poised a moment, inhaling reflectively, his eyes cloudedin thought. Then he went to the windows, raising the shades anadditional few inches each, but that did not seem to give him thelight he wished. 

In the room were the portable arcs used in the making of scenesin an actual interior setting. The connections ran to heavyinsulated junction boxes at the ends of two lines of stiff blackstage cable. Near the door the circuits were joined and a singlelead of the big duplex cord ran out along the polished hardwoodfloor, carried presumably to the house circuit at a fuse boxwhere sufficient amperage was available. Kennedy's eyes followedout the wires quickly. Then, motioning to me to help, he wheeledone of the heavy stands around and adjusted the hood so that thefull strength of the light would be cast upon Stella. The arc inplace, he threw the switch, and in the sputtering flood ofillumination dropped to his knees, taking a powerful pocket lensfrom his waistcoat and beginning an inch by inch examination ofher skin. 

I gained a fresh realization of the beauty of the star as she layunder the dazzling electric glow, and in particular I noticed thesmall amount of make-up she had used and the natural firmness ofher flesh. She was dressed in a modish, informal dinner dress, ofembroidered satin, cut fairly low at front and back and withsleeves of some gauzelike material reaching not halfway to herelbow, hardly sleeves at all, in fact. 

Kennedy with his glass went over her features with extreme care. I saw that he drew her hair back, and that then he parted it, toexamine her scalp, and I wondered what infinitesimal clue mightbe the object of his search. I had learned, however, never toquestion him while he was at work. 

With his eye glued to his lens he made his way about and aroundher neck, and down and over her throat and chest so far as itremained unprotected by the silk of her gown. With the aid ofMackay he turned her over to examine her back. Next he returnedthe body to its former position and began to inspect the arms. Very suddenly something caught his eye on the inside of her rightforearm. He grunted with satisfaction, straightened, pulled theswitch of the arc, wiped his eyes, which were watering. 

"Find anything, Mr. Kennedy?" Doctor Blake seemed to understand, to some extent, the purpose of the examination. 

Kennedy did not answer, probably preoccupied with theories whichI could see were forming in his mind. 

The library was a huge room of greater length than breadth. Atone end were wide French windows looking out upon the garden andsummer house. The door to the hallway and living room was verybroad, with heavy sliding panels and rich portieres of a veloursalmost the tint of the wood-work. Between the door, situated inthe side wall near the opposite end, and the windows, was amagnificent stone fireplace with charred logs testifying to itsfrequent use. The couch where Stella lay had been drawn back fromits normal position before the fire, together with a huge tableof carved walnut. The other two walls were an unbroken successionof shelves, reaching to the ceiling and literally packed withbooks. 

Facing the windows and the door, so as to include the fireplaceand the wide sweep of the room within range, were two camerasstill set up, the legs of their tripods nested, probably leftexactly as they were at the moment of Stella's collapse. Itouched the handle of one, a Bell & Howell, and saw that it wasthreaded, that the film had not been disturbed. The lights, staggered and falling away from the camera lines, were arrangedto focus their illumination on the action of the scenes. Therewere four arcs and two small portable banks of Cooper-Hewitts, the latter used to cut the sharp shadows and give a greaterevenness to the photography. Also there were diffusersconstructed of sheets of white cloth stretched taut on frames. These reflected light upward upon the faces of the actors, softening the lower features, and so valuable in adding to theattractiveness of the women in particular. 

All this I had learned from visits to a studio with the Star'sphotoplay editor. I was anxious to impress my knowledge uponKennedy. He gave me no opportunity, however, but wheeled uponMackay suddenly. 

"Send in the electrician, " he ordered. "Keep everyone else outuntil I'm ready to examine them. "

While the district attorney hurried to the sliding doors, guardedon their farther side by one of the amateur deputies he hadimpressed into service, Kennedy swung the stand of the arc he hadused back into the place unaided. I noticed that Doctor Blake wasnervously interested in spite of his professional poise. Icertainly was bursting with curiosity to know what Kennedy hadfound. 

The electrician, a wizened veteran of the studios, with a baldhead which glistened rather ridiculously, entered as though heexpected to be held for the death of the star on the spot. 

"I don't know nothin', " he began, before anyone could start toquestion him. "I was outside when they yelled, honest! I wasseeing whether m'lead was getting hot, and I heard 'em call todouse the glim, an'--"

"Put on all your lights"--Kennedy was unusually sharp, althoughit was plain he held no suspicion of this man, as he added--"justas you had them. "

As the electrician went from stand to stand sulkily, there was asputter from the arcs, almost deafening in the confines of theroom, and quite a bit of fine white smoke. But in a moment thecorner of the library constituting the set was brilliantly, dazzlingly lighted. To me it was quite like being transportedinto one of the big studios in the city. 

"Is this the largest portion of the room they used?" Kennedyasked. "Did you have your stands any farther back?"

"This was the biggest lay-out, sir!" replied the man. 

"Were all the scenes in which Miss Lamar appeared before herdeath in this corner of the room?"

"Yes, sir!"

"And this was the way you had the scene lighted when she droppedunconscious?"

"Yes, sir! I pulled m'lights an'--an' they lifted her up and puther right there where she is, sir!"

Kennedy paid no attention to the last; in fact, I doubt whetherhe heard it. Dropping to hands and knees immediately, he began asearch of the floor and carpet as minutely painstaking as theinspection he had given Stella's own person. Instinctively I drewback, to be out of his way, as did Doctor Blake and Mackay. Theelectrician, I noticed, seemed to grasp now the reason for thesummons which undoubtedly had frightened him badly. He gave hisattention to his lights, stroking a refractory Cooper-Hewitt tubefor all the world as if some minor scene in the story were beingphotographed. It was hard to realize that it was not anotherpicture scene, but that Craig Kennedy, in my opinion the founderof the scientific school of modern detectives, was searching outin this strange environment the clue to a real murder somysterious that the very cause of death was as yet undetermined. 

I was hoping for a display of the remarkable brilliance Craig hadshown in so many of the cases brought to his attention. I halfexpected to see him rise from the floor with some tiny somethingin his hand, some object overlooked by everyone else, sometangible evidence which would lead to the immediate apprehensionof the perpetrator of the crime. That Stella Lamar had met herdeath by foul means I did not doubt for an instant, and so Iwaited feverishly for the conclusion of Kennedy's search. 

As it happened, this was not destined to be one of his casescleared up in a brief few hours of intensive effort. He coveredevery inch of the floor within the illuminated area; then heturned his attention to the walls and furniture and the rest ofthe room in somewhat more perfunctory, but no less skillfulmanner. Fully fifteen minutes elapsed, but I knew from hisexpression that he had discovered nothing. In a wringingperspiration from the heat of the arcs, but nevertheless glad tohave had the intense light at his disposal, he motioned to theelectrician to turn them off and to leave the room. 

"Find anything, Mr. Kennedy?" queried the physician once more. 

Kennedy beckoned all of us to the side of the ill-fated actress. Lifting the right arm, finding the spot which had caused hisexclamation before, he handed his pocket lens to Doctor Blake. After a moment a low whistle escaped the lips of the physician. 

Next it was my turn. As I stooped over I caught, above the faintscent of imported perfume which she affected, a peculiarputrescent odor. This it was which had caught Kennedy's nostrils. Then through the glass I could detect upon her forearm thetiniest possible scratch ending in an almost invisible puncture, such as might have been made by a very sharp needle or the pointof an incredibly fine hypodermic syringe. Drawing back, I glancedagain at her face, which I had already noted was blotched andsomewhat swollen beneath the make-up. Again I thought that themuscles were contorted, that the eyes were bulging slightly, thatthere was a bluish tinge to her skin such as in cyanosis orasphyxiation. It may have been imagination, but I was now surethat her expression revealed pain or fear or both. 

When I looked at her first I had been unable to forget myimpression of years. Before me there had been the once livingform of Stella Lamar, whom I had dreamed of meeting and whom Ihad never viewed in actual life. I had lacked the penetration tosee beneath the glamour. But to Kennedy there had been signs ofthe poisoning at once. Doctor Blake had searched merely for theevidences of the commoner drugs, or the usual diseases such ascause sudden death. I recalled the cyanides. I thought of curare, or woorali, the South American arrow poison with which Kennedyonce had dealt. Had Stella received an injection of some new andcurious substance?

Mackay glanced up from his inspection of the mark on the arm. 

"It's an awfully tiny scratch!" he exclaimed. 

Kennedy smiled. "Yet, Mackay, it probably was the cause of herdeath. "

"How?"

"That--that is the problem before us. When we learn just exactlyhow she scratched herself, or was scratched--" Kennedy paced upand down in front of the fireplace. Then he confronted each of usin turn, suddenly serious. "Not a word of what I havediscovered, " he warned. 

III

TANGLED MOTIVES

"Do you wish to examine the people now?" Mackay asked. 

Kennedy hesitated. "First I want to make sure of the evidenceconcerning her actual death. Can you arrange to have the clothesshe has on, and those she brought with her, all of them bundledup and sent in to my laboratory, together with samples of herbody fluids as soon as the coroner can supply you?"

Mackay nodded. This pleased him. This seemed to be tangibleaction, promising tangible results. 

Again Kennedy glanced about in thought. I knew that the scratchwas worrying him. "Did she change her clothes out here?" heinquired. 

The district attorney brightened. "She dressed in a small denjust off the living room. I have a man posted and the doorclosed. Nothing has been disturbed. "

He started to lead the way without further word from Kennedy, proud to have been able once more to demonstrate his foresight. 

As we left the library, entering the living room, there was anappreciable hush. Here were grouped the others of the partybrought out by the picture company, a constrained gathering offolk who had little in common beyond the highly specialized needsof the new art of the screen, an assembly of souls who had beenforced to wait during all the time required for the trip ofKennedy and myself out from New York, who were compelled to waitnow until he should be ready to examine them. 

I picked out the electrician in the semi-gloom and with him hisfellow members of the technical staff needed in the taking of thescenes in the library. The camera men I guessed, and a propertyboy, and an assistant director. The last, at any event, of allthose in the huge room, had summoned up sufficient nonchalance tobend his mind to details of his work. I saw that he was thumbinga copy of the scenario, or detailed working manuscript of thestory, making notations in some kind of little book, and it wasthat which enabled me to establish his identity at a glance. 

In a different corner were the principals, two men and a girlstill in make-up, and with them the director, and Manton andPhelps. Apart from everyone else, in a sort of social ostracismcommon to the studios, the two five-dollar-a-day extras waited, abutler and a maid, also in make-up. Oddly enough the total numberof these material witnesses to the tragedy was just thirteen, andI wondered if they had noticed the fact. 

Doctor Blake turned to Kennedy the moment we left the library. 

"Do you feel it is necessary for me to remain any longer?" heasked. He was apologetic, yet distinctly impatient. "I haveneglected several very important calls as it is. "

Kennedy and Mackay both hastened to assure the physician thatthey appreciated his co-operation and that they would spare himas much notoriety and inconvenience as possible. Then the threeof us hurried across and to the little den which had beenconverted into a dressing room for Stella's use. 

Here were all the evidences of femininity, the little toucheswhich a woman can impart to the smallest corner in a few briefmoments of occupancy. It was a tiny alcove shut off from the restof the living room by heavy silk hangings, drawn now and pinnedtogether so as to assure her the privacy she wished. The onewindow was high and fitted with leaded glass, but it was raisedand afforded the maximum of light. Stella's traveling bagsprawled wide open, with many of her effects strewn about inattractive disarray. Her suit, in which she had made the trip toTarrytown, was thrown carelessly over the back of a chair. Hermirror was fastened up ruthlessly, upon a handsome woven Orientalhanging, with a long hatpin. Powder was spilled upon the couchcover, another Oriental fabric, and her little box of rouge layface downward on the floor. 

As we pulled the curtains aside I caught the perfume which stillclung to her clothes in the library beyond. As Mackay sniffedalso, Kennedy smiled. 

"Coty's Jacqueminot rose, " he remarked. 

With his usual swift and practiced certainty Kennedy theninspected the extemporized dressing room. He seemed to satisfyhimself that no subtle attack had been made upon the girl here, although I doubt that he had held any such supposition seriouslyin the first place. In my association of several years withKennedy, following our first intimacy of college days, I hadlearned that his success as a scientific detective was the resultwholly of his thoroughness of method. To watch him had become anever-ending delight, even in the dull preliminary work of a caseas baffling as this one. Mackay also seemed content just to enactthe role of spectator. 

Kennedy thumbed through the delicate intimacies of her travelingbag with the keen, impersonal manner which always distinguishedhim; then he found her beaded handbag and proceeded to rummagethrough that. Suddenly he paused as he unfolded a piece of notepaper, and we gathered around to read:

MY DEAR STELLA: Have something very important to tell you. Willyou lunch Tuesday at the P. G. Tearoom? LARRY. 

"Tuesday--" murmured Kennedy. "And this is Monday. Who--who isLarry, I wonder?"

I hastened to answer the question for him. It was my firstopportunity to display my knowledge of the picture players. "Larry--that's Lawrence, Lawrence Millard!" I exclaimed. Then Iwent on to tell him of the divorce and the circumstancessurrounding Stella's life as I knew it. "It--it looks, " Iconcluded, "as if they might have been on the point of composingtheir differences, after all. "

Kennedy nodded. I could see, however, that he made a mental noteof his intention to question the girl's former husband. 

All at once another thought struck me and I became eager. It wasa possible explanation of the mystery. 

"Listen, Craig, " I began. "Suppose Millard wanted to make up andshe didn't. Suppose that she refused to see him or to meet him. Suppose that in a jealous fit he--"

"No, Walter!" Kennedy headed me off with a smile. "This wasn't anordinary murder of passion. This was well thought out and wellexecuted. Not one medical examiner in a thousand would have foundthat tiny scratch. It may be very difficult yet to determine theexact cause of death. This, my dear Jameson"--it was playfulirony--"is a scientific crime. "

"But Millard--"

"Of course! Anyone may be the culprit. Yet you tell me Millarddid not contest her divorce and that it would have been very easyfor him to file a counter-suit because everyone knew of herrelationship with Manton. That, offhand, shows no ill-will on hispart. And now we find this note from him, which at least isfriendly in tone--"

I shrugged my shoulders. It was the same blind alley in which mythoughts had strayed upon the train on our way out. 

"It's too early to begin to try to fasten the guilt upon anyone, "Kennedy added, as we returned to the library through the livingroom. Then he turned to Mackay. "Have you succeeded in gleaningany facts about the life of Miss Lamar?" he asked. "Anythingwhich might point to a motive, so that I can approach the casefrom both directions?"

"If you ask me, " the little district attorney rejoined, "it's amatter of tangled motives throughout. I--I had no sword to cutthe Gordian knot and so"--graciously--"I sent for you. "

"What do you mean by tangled motives?" Kennedy ignored theother's compliment. 

"Well!" Mackay indicated me. "Mr. Jameson explained about herdivorce. No one heard whom she named as corespondent. That's anunknown woman in the case, although it may not mean anything atall. Then there's Lloyd Manton and all the talk about his affairwith Miss Lamar. Some one told one of my men that Manton's wifehas left him on that account. "

"Did you question Manton?"

"No, I thought I ought to leave all that to you. I was afraid Imight put them on their guard. "

"Good!" Kennedy was pleased. "Did you learn anything else?"

"This deputy of mine obtained all these things by gossiping withthe girl who plays the maid, and so they may not be reliable. Butamong the players it is reported that Werner, the director, washaving an affair with Stella also, and that Merle Shirley, the'heavy' man, was seen with her a great deal recently, and thatJack Gordon, the leading man, who was engaged to marry her assoon as her decree was final, was jealous as a consequence, andthat Miss Loring, playing the vampire In the story and engaged toShirley, was even more bitter against the deceased than Gordon, Miss Lamar's fiance. 

"That made eight people with possible motives for the crime. WhenI got that far I gave it up. In fact"--Mackay lowered his voice, suddenly--"I don't like the attitude of Emery Phelps. This is hishouse, you know, and he is the financial backer of MantonPictures, yet there seems to be an undercurrent of frictionbetween Manton and himself. I--I wanted him to show me somedetail of the arrangement of things in the library, but hewouldn't come into the room. He said he didn't want to look atMiss Lamar. There--there was something--and, I don't know. If heis concerned in any way--that would make nine. "

"You think Miss Lamar and Phelps--"

Mackay shook his head. "I don't know. "

Kennedy turned to me, expression really serious. "Is this the waythey carry on in the picture world, Walter?" he asked. "Is thisthe usual thing or--or an exception?"

I flushed. "It's very much an exception, " I insisted. "The filmpeople are just like other people, some good and some bad. Probably three-quarters of all this is gossip. "

"I hope so. " He straightened. "The only thing to do is to goafter them one at a time and disentangle all the conflictingthreads. It looks as though there will be any number of possiblefalse leads and so we must be careful and deliberate. I thinkI'll question each in turn--here. "

He walked over to the fireplace, stopping for just a moment toglance at the body of Stella. Then he pulled the blinds downhalfway, so that the room seemed somber and gruesome. He drew achair so that the different individuals as he examined them, would be unable to lose sight of the dead woman. His arrangementscompleted, he faced the district attorney. 

"Manton first, " he directed. 

In an instant I caught the psychology of it--the now darkenedlibrary, the beautiful body still lying on the davenport, thequiet and quick arrival of ourselves. If anything could beextracted from these people, surely it would be betrayed underthese surroundings. 

IV

THE FATAL SCRIPT

I had no real opportunity to study Manton when he greeted us uponour arrival, and at that time neither Kennedy nor I possessedeven a passing realization of the problem before us. Now I feltthat I was ready to grasp at any possible motive for the crime. Iwas prepared to suspect any or all of the nine people enumeratedby Mackay, so far as I could speak for myself, and at the veryleast I was certain that this was one of the most baffling casesever brought to Craig's attention. 

Yet I was sure he would solve it. I waited most impatiently forthe outcome of his examination of Lloyd Manton. 

The producer-promoter was a well-set-up man just approachingmiddle age. About him was a certain impression of great physicalstrength, of bulk without flabbiness, and in particular I noticedthe formation of his head, the square broad development whichindicated his intellectual power, and I found, too, a fascinatingquality about his eyes, deeply placed and of a warm dark gray-brown, which seemed to hold a fundamental sincerity which, Iimagined, made the man almost irresistible in a business deal. 

His weakness, so far as I could ascertain it, was revealed by hismouth and chin, and by a certain nervousness of his hands, handswhere a square, practical palm was belied by the slight taperingof his fingers, the mark of the dreamer. His mouth wasunquestionably sensuous, with the lips full and now and thenrevealing out of the studied practiced calm of his face an almostimperceptible twitching, as though to betray a flash of emotion, or fear. His chin was feminine, softening his expression andshowing that his feelings would overbalance the cool calculationdenoted by his eyes and the rather heavy level brows above. 

As he entered the room, taking the chair indicated by Kennedy, heseemed perfectly cool and his glance, as it strayed to thelifeless form of Stella, revealed his iron self-control. Thelittle signs which I have mentioned, which betrayed the real manbeneath, were only disclosed to me little by little as Kennedy'squestioning progressed. 

"Tell me just what happened?" Kennedy began. 

"Well--" Manton responded quickly enough, but then he stopped andproceeded as though he chose each word with care, as if he framedeach sentence so that there would be no misunderstanding, nochance of wrong impression; all of which pleased Kennedy. 

"In the scene we were taking, " he went on, "Stella was croucheddown on the floor, bending over her father, who had just beenmurdered. She was sobbing. All at once the lights were to springup. The young hero was to dash through the set and she was to seehim and scream out in terror. The first part went all right. Butwhen the lights flashed on, instead of looking up and screaming, Stella sort of crumpled and collapsed on top of Werner, who wasplaying the father. I yelled to stop the cameras and rushed in. We picked her up and put her on the couch. Some one sent for thedoctor, but she died without saying a word. I--I haven't theslightest idea what happened. At first I thought it was hearttrouble. "

"Did she have heart trouble?"

"No, that is--not that I ever heard. "

Kennedy hesitated. "Why were you taking these scenes out here?"

It was on the tip of my tongue to answer for Manton. I knew thatat one time many fine interiors were actually taken in houses, tosave expense. I was sorry that Kennedy should draw any conclusionfrom a fact which I thought was too well known to requireexplanation. Manton's answer, however, proved a distinct surpriseto me. 

"Mr. Phelps asked us to use his library in this picture. "

"Wouldn't it have been easier and cheaper in the long run toreproduce it in the studio?"

Manton glanced up at Kennedy, echoing my thought. Had Kennedy, after all, some knowledge of motion pictures stored away with hisvast fund of general and unusual information?

"Yes, " replied the producer. "It would save the trip out here, the loss of time, the inconvenience--why, in an actual dollarsand cents comparison, with overhead and everything taken intoaccount, the building of a set like this is nothing nowadays. "

"Do you know Mr. Phelps's reason?"

Manton shrugged his shoulders. "Just a whim, and we had to humorit. "

"Mr. Phelps is interested in the company?"

"Yes. He recently bought up all the stock except my own. He is inabsolute control, financially. "

"What is the story you are making? I mean, I want to understandjust exactly what happened in the scenes you were photographingtoday. It is essential that I learn how everyone was supposed toact and how they did act. I must find out every trivial littledetail. Do you follow me?"

Manton's mouth set suddenly, showing that it possessed a latentquality of firmness. He glanced about the room, then rose, wentto the farther end of the long table, and returned with a thicksheaf of manuscript bound at the side in stiff board covers. "This is the scenario, the script of the detailed action, " heexplained. 

As Kennedy took the binder, Manton opened it and turned pastseveral sheets of tabulation and lists, the index to the sets andexterior locations, the characters and extras, the changes ofclothes, and other technical detail. "The scenes we are takinghere, " he went on, "are the opening scenes of the story. We leftthem until now because it meant the long trip out to Tarrytownand because it would take us away from the studio while they wereputting up the largest two sets, a banquet and a ballroom whichneed the entire floor space of the studio. " He turned over two orthree pages, pointing. "We had taken up to scene thirteen; fromscenes one to thirteen just as you have them in order there. It--it was in the unlucky thirteenth that she"--was it my imaginationor did he tremble, for just an instant, violently?--"that shedied. "

Kennedy started to read the script. I hurried to his side, glancing over his shoulder. 

THE BLACK TERROR

FEATURING STELLA LAMAH

SCENE 1

LOCATION. --Remsen library. This is a modern, luxurious libraryset with a long table in the center of the room, books around thewalls, French windows leading from the rear, and an entrancethrough a hallway to the right through a pair of portieres. Note:E. P. Wishes us to use his library at Tarrytown. 

ACTION. --Open diaphragm slowly on darkened set as a spot of lightis being played on the walls and French windows in the rear. Asthe diaphragm opens slowly the light vanishes, leaving the scenedark at times and then brightened until, as the diaphragm opensfull, we discover that the light is that of a burglar's flashlight, traveling over the walls of the library. When thediaphragm is fully opened we discover also a faint line of lightstreaming through the almost closed portieres leading to thehallway outside. This ray of light, striking along the floor, pauses by the library table, just disclosing the edge of it butnot revealing anything else in the room. The spotlight in thehands of a shadowy figure roves across the wall and to theportieres. As it pauses there the portieres move and the fingersof a girl are seen on the edge of the silk. A bare and beautifularm is thrust through the portieres almost to the shoulder, andit begins to move the portieres aside, reaching upward to pullthe curtains apart at the rings. 

SCENE 2

LOCATION. --Remsen library. Close foreground of portieres. 

ACTION. --Our heroine parts the portieres and stands revealed inthe spotlight's glare. She is in dinner gown and about her throatis a peculiar locket of flashing jewels. She cries out and backsaway, closing the portieres. The spotlight retreats from thecurtains, leaving them dark. 

SCENE 3

LOCATION. --Hallway, Remsen house. Close foreground of portieresleading to library. This hallway is lighted. 

ACTION. --The girl holding the portieres shut screams for help. 

SCENE 4

LOCATION. --Foot of stairway, Remsen house. 

ACTION. --The butler and maid are discovered talking. They hearthe girl's scream and start running. 

SCENE 5

LOCATION. --Hallway, Remsen house. Close foreground of portieres. 

ACTION. --The girl hears help coming and glances off to indicatethat she sees the butler and the maid. She continues to cling tothe closed curtains. 

SCENE 6

LOCATION. --Remsen library. Full shot. 

ACTION. --The unknown drops the spotlight to the floor and wefirst see his legs crossing the rays of light on the floor. Thenthe spotlight rolls, revealing the body of an elderly man of theAmerican millionaire type, lying crumpled against the table. Finally it rolls a little farther and stops, directing its raysinto the fireplace. 

SCENE 7

LOCATION. --Remsen hallway, outside library. 

ACTION. --The girl indicates determined resolve. She throws apartthe portieres with a quick motion of her arms and dashes inside. The portieres close after her. The butler and maid come onrunning and looking about. 

SCENE 8

LOCATION. --Remsen library. Full shot. 

ACTION. --The spotlight is showing into the fireplace when thegirl crosses quickly into its rays. She stoops into the light, revealing her face and picking up the spotlight. She flashes itabout the room, pausing as it strikes the French windows andreveals the murderer making his escape out on a balcony which isrevealed in the background. When the rays of light reach themurderer he deliberately turns. 

SCENE 9

LOCATION. --Remsen library. Close foreground of French windows. 

ACTION. --The intruder, now in the close foreground, pauses as heis about to shut the window and blinks deliberately into the raysof light, then laughs and closes the French windows. 

SCENE 10

LOCATION. --Hallway, Remsen home. Close foreground of portieres tolibrary. 

ACTION. --The butler and maid look around hopelessly. A young man, the exact counterpart of the man who in the previous scene lookedinto the spotlight at the French windows, comes up to the butlerand demands to know what has happened. The butler explainshurriedly that he heard his mistress cry out for help. The youngman steps to the portieres and pauses. 

SCENE 11

LOCATION. --Remsen library. Full shot. 

ACTION. --The girl, using the spotlight, flashes it about the roomand down on the floor, seeing for the first time the body of theAmerican millionaire. 

SCENE 12

LOCATION. --Exterior Remsen house. Night tint. 

ACTION. --The murderer scrambles down a column from the upperporch and leaps to the ground, darting across the lawn out of thepicture. 

SCENE 13

LOCATION. --Remsen library. Full shot. 

ACTION. --The spotlight on the floor reveals the girl sobbing overthe body of the millionaire and trying to revive him. She screamsand cries out. The portieres are parted and from the lightedhallway we see the young man, the butler, and the maid, whoenter. The young man switches on the lights and the room isrevealed. The three cry out in horror. The young man, glancingabout, leaps toward the partly opened French windows, drawing arevolver. As the girl sees him she screams again and denotesterror. 

Finishing the thirteenth scene, Kennedy closed the covers andhanded the script to me. Then he confronted Manton once more. 

"What became of the locket about the girl's neck? In themanuscript Miss Lamar is supposed to have a peculiar pendant ather throat. There was none. "

"Oh yes!" The promoter remained a moment in thought. "The doctortook it off and gave it to Bernie, the prop. Boy, who's helpingthe electrician. "

"Is he outside?"

"Yes. "

"Now try to remember, Mr. Manton. " Kennedy leaned over veryseriously. "Just who approached closely to Miss Lamar in themaking of that thirteenth scene? Who was near enough to haveinflicted a wound, or to have subjected her, suppose we say, tothe fumes of some subtle poison?"

"You think that--" Manton started to question Kennedy, but wasgiven no encouragement. "Gordon, the leading man, passed throughthe scene, " he replied, after a pause, "but did not go very nearher. Werner was playing the dead millionaire at her feet. "

"Who is Werner?"

"He's my director. Because it was such a small part, he played ithimself. He's only in the two or three scenes in the beginningand I was here to be at the camera. "

While Kennedy was questioning Manton I had been glancing throughthe script of the picture. My own connection with the movies hadconsisted largely of three attempts to sell stories of my own tothe producers. Needless to remark I had not succeeded, in thatregard falling in the class with some hundreds of thousands of myfellow citizens. For everybody thinks he has at least one motionpicture in him. And so, though I had managed to visit studios andmeet a few of the players, this was my very first shot at amanuscript actually in production. I took advantage of Kennedy'smomentary preoccupation to turn to Manton. 

"Who wrote this script, Mr. Manton?" I asked. 

"Millard! Lawrence Millard. "

"Millard?" Kennedy and I exclaimed, simultaneously. 

"Why, yes! Millard is still under contract and he's the only manwho ever could write scripts for Stella. We--we tried others andthey all flivved. "

"Is Millard here?"

Manton burst into laughter, somehow out of place in the roomwhere we still were in the company of death. "An author on thelot at the filming of his picture, to bother the director and tochange everything? Out! When the scenario's done he's through. He's lucky to get his name on the screen. It's not the story butthe direction which counts, except that you've got to have a goodidea to start with, and a halfway decent script to make your lay-outs from. Anyhow--" He sobered a bit, perhaps realizing that hewas going counter to the tendency to have the author on the lot. "Millard and Stella weren't on speaking terms. She divorced him, you know. "

"Do you know much about the personal affairs of Miss Lamar?"

"Well"--Manton's eyes sought the floor for a moment--"Likeeveryone else in pictures, Stella was the victim of a great dealof gossip. That's the experience of any girl who rises to aposition of prominence and--"

"How were the relations between Miss Lamar and yourself?"interrupted Kennedy. 

"What do you mean by that?" Manton flushed quickly. 

"You have had no trouble, no disagreements recently?"

"No, indeed. Everything has been very friendly between us--in astrictly business way, of course--and I don't believe I've had anunpleasant word with her since I first formed Manton Pictures tomake her a star. "

"You know nothing of her difficulties with her husband?"

"Naturally not. I seldom saw her except at the studio, unless itwas some necessary affair such as a screen ball here, or perhapsin Boston or Philadelphia or some near-by city where I would takeher for effect--"

Kennedy turned to Mackay. "Will you arrange to keep the people Ihave yet to question separate from the ones I have examinedalready?"

As the district attorney nodded, Kennedy dismissed Manton rathershortly; then turned again to Mackay as the promoter drew out ofearshot. 

"Bring in Bernie, the property-boy, before anyone can tell him tohide or destroy that locket. "

V

AN EMOTIONAL MAZE

Bernie proved to be as stupid a youth as any I had ever seen. Hepossessed frightened semi-liquid eyes and overshot ears and hairwhich might have been red beneath its accumulation of dust. Without doubt the boy had been coached by the electrician, because he began to affirm his innocence in similar fashion themoment he entered the door. 

"I don't know nothin', honest I don't, " he pleaded. "I was out inthe hall, I was, and I didn't come in at all until the doc. Came. "

"I suppose you were anxious to see if the cable was becominghot, " Kennedy suggested, gravely. 

"That's it, sir! We was lookin' at it because it was on thevarnish and the butler he says--"

"Where's the locket?" interrupted Kennedy. "The one Miss Lamarwore in the scenes. "

"Oh!" in disdain, "that thing!" With some effort Bernie fished itfrom the capacious depths of a pocket, disentangling the sharpcorners from the torn and ragged lining of his coat. 

I glanced at it as Kennedy turned it over and over in his hands, and saw that it was a palpable stage prop, with glass jewels ofthe cheapest sort. Concealing his disappointment, Kennedy droppedit into his own pocket, confronting the frightened Bernie oncemore. 

"Do you know anything about Miss Lamar's death?"

"No! I don't know nothing, honest!"

"All right!" Kennedy turned to Mackay. "Werner, the director. "

Of Stanley Werner I had heard a great deal, through interviews, character studies, and other press stuff in the photoplayjournals and the Sunday newspaper film sections. Now I found himto be a high-strung individual, so extremely nervous that itseemed impossible for him to remain in one position in his chairor for him to keep his hands motionless for a single instant. Although he was of moderate build, with a fair suggestion offlesh, there were yet the marks of the artist and of the creativetemperament in the fine sloping contours of his head and in hisremarkably long fingers, which tapered to nails manicuredimmaculately. Kennedy seemed to pay particular attention to hiseyes, which were dark, soft, and amazingly restless. 

"Who was in the cast, Mr. Werner? What were they playing and justexactly what was each doing at the time of Miss Lamar'scollapse?"

"Well"--Werner's eyes shifted to mine, then to Mackay's, andthere was a subtle lack of ease in his manner which I was hardlyprepared to classify as yet--"Stella Lamar was playing the partof Stella Remsen, the heroine, and--uh, I see your associate hasthe script--"

He paused, glancing at me again. When Kennedy said nothing, Werner went on, growing more and more nervous. "Jack Gordon playsJack Daring, the hero--the handsome young chap who runs down thesteps and encounters the butler and the maid in the hall justoutside the library--"

"Wasn't it his face in the French windows of the library at thesame time?" Kennedy asked. "Wasn't he the murderer of the father, also?"

"No!" Werner smiled slightly, and there was an instant's flash ofthe man's personality, winning and, it seemed to me, calculatedto inspire confidence. "That is the mystery; it is a mysteryplot. While the parts are played by Jack in both cases now, weexplain in a subtitle a little later that the criminal himself, the 'Black Terror, ' is a master of scientific impersonation, andthat he changes the faces of his emissaries by means of plasticsurgery and such scientific things, so that they look like thecharacters against whom he wishes to throw suspicion. So whileJack plays the part it is really an accomplice of the 'BlackTerror' who kills old Remsen. "

Kennedy turned to me. "A new idea in the application of scienceto crime!" he remarked, dryly. "Just suppose it werepracticable!"

"The 'Black Terror'" Werner continued, "is played by MerleShirley. You've heard of him, the greatest villain ever known tothe films? Then there's Marilyn Loring, the vampire, another goodtrouper, too. She plays Zelda, old Remsen's ward, and it's aquestion whether Zelda or Stella will be the Remsen heir. Marilynherself is an awfully nice girl, but, oh, how the fans hate her!"The director chuckled. "No Millard story is ever complete withouta vamp and Marilyn's been eating them up. She's been with MantonPictures for nearly a year. "

"You played the millionaire yourself?"

"Yes, I did old Remsen. "

I realized suddenly, for the first time, that Werner was still inthe evening clothes he had donned for the part. On his face werestreaks in the little make-up that remained after his frequentmopping of his features with his handkerchief. Too, his collarwas melted. I could imagine his discomfort. 

"Did you have any business with Stella?" Kennedy asked, using thestage term for the minor bits of action in the playing of ascene. "Did you move at all while she was going through herpart?"

"No, Mr. Kennedy, I was 'dead man' in all the scenes. "

"Show me how you lay, if you will. "

Obligingly, Werner stretched out on the carpet, duplicating hispositions even to the exact manner in which he had placed hishands and arms. Rather to my own distaste, Kennedy impressed meto represent, I am sure in clumsy fashion, the various positionsof Stella Lamar. Most painstakingly Kennedy worked back from thethirteenth scene to the first, referring to the script andcoaxing details of memory from the mind of Werner. 

I grasped Kennedy's purpose almost at once. He was endeavoring toreproduce the action which had been photographed, so as todetermine just how the poison had been administered. Of course hemade no reference to the tiny scratch and Mackay and I werecareful to give no hint of it to Werner. The director, however, seemed most willing to assist us. I certainly felt no suspicionof him now. As for Kennedy, his face was unrevealing. 

"When the film in the camera is developed--" I suggested toKennedy, suddenly. 

He silenced me with a gesture. "I haven't overlooked that, butthe scenes will be from one angle only and in a darkened set. Ican determine more this way. "

Somewhat crestfallen, I continued my impersonation of the slainstar not altogether willingly. Soon Kennedy had completed hisreconstruction of the action. 

"Who else entered the scene besides Gordon?" he asked. 

"The butler and the maid, after the lights were flashed on. "

"I'll question the camera men, " he announced. "Who are they?"

"Harry Watkins is the head photographer, " Werner explained. "He'sa crackerjack, too! One of the best lighting experts in thecountry. Al Penny's grinding the other box. "

"Let's have Watkins first. " Kennedy nodded to Mackay to escortthe director from the room. 

Neither Watkins nor Penny were able to add anything to the factswhich Kennedy had gleaned from Manton and Werner. When he hadfinished his patient examination of the junior camera man herecalled Watkins and had both, under his eyes, close and seal thefilm cartridges which contained the photographic record of thethirteen scenes. Dismissing the men, he handed the two blackboxes to Mackay. 

"Can you arrange to have these developed and printed, quickly, but in some way so neither negative nor positive will be out ofyour sight at any time?"

Mackay nodded. "I know the owner of a laboratory in Yonkers. "

"Good! Now let's have the leading man. "

Jack Gordon immediately impressed me very unfavorably. There wassomething about him for which I could find no word but "sleek. "Learning much from my long association with Kennedy I observed atonce that he had removed the make-up from his face and that hehad on a clean white collar. Since the linen worn before thecamera is dyed a faint tint to prevent the halation caused bypure white, it was a sure sign to me that he had spruced up abit. I knew that he was engaged to Stella. Here in this room shelay dead, under the most mysterious circumstances. There waslittle question, in fact, that she had been murdered. How couldhe, really loving her, think of such things as the make-up lefton his face, or his clothes?

I had to admit that he was a handsome individual. Perhapsslightly less than average in height, and very slender, he hadthe close-knit build of an athlete. The contour of his head andthe perfect regularity of rather large features made him an idealtype for the screen at any angle; in close-ups and foregrounds aswell as full shots. In actual life there were little thingscovered by make-up in his work, such as the cold gray tint of hiseyes and the lines of dissipation about his mouth. 

Kennedy questioned him first about his movements in the differentscenes, then asked him if he had seen or noticed anythingsuspicious during the taking of any of them or in the intervalsbetween. 

"I had several changes, Mr. Kennedy, " he replied. "Part of thetime I was Jack Daring, my regular role, but I was also theemissary who looked like Daring. I went out each time because Imake up the emissary to look hard. Werner wanted to fool thepeople a little bit, but he didn't want them to be positive theemissary was Daring, as would happen if both make-ups were thesame. "

"Did you have any opportunity to talk to Miss Lamar?"

"None at all. Werner was pushing us to the limit. "

"Did she seem her usual self at the start of the scene?"

"No, she seemed a little out of sorts. But"--Gordon hesitated--"something had been troubling her all day. She hardly would talkto me in the car on the way out at all. It didn't strike me thatshe acted any different when she went in to take the scene. "

"You were engaged to her?"

"Yes. " Gordon's eyes caught the body on the davenport before him. He glanced away hastily, taking his lower lip between his teeth. 

"Had you been having any trouble?"

"No--that is, nothing to amount to anything. "

"But you had a quarrel or a misunderstanding. "

His face flushed slowly. "She was to obtain her final decreeearly next week. I wanted her to marry me then at once. Sherefused. When I reproached her for not considering my wishes shepretended to be cool and began an elaborate flirtation with MerleShirley. " "You say she only pretended to be cool?"

For a few moments Gordon hesitated. Then apparently his vanityloosened his tongue. He wished it to be understood that he hadheld the love of Stella to the last. 

"Last night, " he volunteered, "we made everything up and she wasas affectionate as she ever had been. This morning she was cool, but I could tell it was pretense and so I let her alone. "

"There has been no real trouble between you?"

The leading man met Kennedy's gaze squarely. "Not a bit!"

Kennedy turned to Mackay. "Mr. Shirley, " he ordered. 

By a miscalculation on the part of the little district attorneythe heavy man entered the room a moment before Gordon left. Theycame face to face just within the portieres. There was nomistaking the hostility, the open hate, between the two men. BothKennedy and I caught the glances. 

Then Merle Shirley approached the fireplace, taking the chairindicated by Kennedy. 

"I wasn't in any of the opening scenes, " he explained. "Iremained out in the car until I got wind of the excitement. Bythat time Stella was dead. "

"Do you know anything of a quarrel between Miss Lamar andGordon?"

Shirley rose, clenching his fists. For several moments he stoodgazing down at the star with an expression on his face which Icould not analyze. The pause gave me an opportunity to study him, however, and I noticed that while he had heavier features thanGordon, and was a larger man in every way, ideally endowed forheavy parts, there was yet a certain boyish freshness clinging tohim in subtle fashion. He wore his clothes in a loose sort of waywhich suggested the West and the open, in contrast to Gordon'smetropolitan sophistication and immaculate tailoring. He wasevery inch the man, and a splendid actor--I knew. Yet there wasthe touch of youth about him. He seemed incapable of a crime suchas this, unless it was in anger, or as the result of some deep-running hidden passion. 

Now, whether he was angry or in the clutch of a broad disgust, Icould not tell. Perhaps it was both. Very suddenly he wheeledupon Kennedy. His voice became low and vibrant with feeling. Herewas none of the steeled self-control of Manton, the deceptiveouter mask which Werner used to cover his thoughts, thenonchalant, cold frankness of Gordon. 

"Mr. Kennedy, " the actor exclaimed, "I've been a fool, a fool!"

"How do you mean?"

"I mean that I allowed Stella to flatter my vanity and lead meinto a flirtation which meant nothing at all to her. God!"

"You are responsible for the trouble between Miss Lamar andGordon, then?"

"Never!" Shirley indicated the body of the star with a quick, passionate sweep of his hand. Now I could not tell whether he wasacting or in earnest. "She's responsible!" he exclaimed. "She'sresponsible for everything!"

"Her death--"

"No!" Shirley sobered suddenly, as if he had forgotten themystery altogether. "I don't know anything at all about that, norhave I any idea unless--" But he checked himself rather thanvoice an empty suspicion. 

"Just what do you mean, then?" Kennedy was sharp, impatient. 

"She made a fool of me, and--and I was engaged to Marilyn Loring--"

"Were engaged? The engagement--"

"Marilyn broke it off last night and wouldn't listen to me, eventhough I came to my senses and saw what a fool I had been. "

"Was"--Kennedy framed his question carefully--"was yourinfatuation for Miss Lamar of long duration?"

"Just a few weeks. I--I took her out to dinner and to the theaterand--and that was all. "

"I see!" Kennedy walked away, nodding to Mackay. 

"Will you have Miss Loring next?" asked the district attorney. 

Kennedy nodded. 

Marilyn Loring was a surprise to me. Stella Lamar both on thescreen and in real life was a beauty. In the films Marilyn was abeauty also, apparently of a cold, unfeeling type, but in theflesh she was disclosed as a person utterly different from all mypreconceived notions. In the first place, she was notparticularly attractive except when she smiled. Her coloring, hair frankly and naturally red, skin slightly mottled and pale, produced in photography the black hair and marble, white skinwhich distinguished her. But as I studied her, as she was now, before she had put on any make-up and while she was still dressedin a simple summer gown of organdie, she looked as though shemight have stepped into the room from the main street of somemid-Western town. In repose she was shy, diffident in appearance. When she smiled, naturally, without holding the hard lines of hervampire roles, there was the slight suggestion of a dimple, andshe was essentially girlish. When a trace of emotion or feelingcame into her face the woman was evident. She might have beenseventeen or thirty-seven. 

To my surprise, Kennedy made no effort to elicit furtherinformation concerning the personal animosities of these people. Perhaps he felt it too much of an emotional maze to bestraightened out in this preliminary investigation. When he foundMarilyn had watched the taking of the scenes he compared heraccount with those which he had already obtained. Then hedismissed her. 

In rapid succession, for he was impatient now to follow up othermethods of investigation, he called in and examined the remainingpossible witnesses of the tragedy. These were the two extraplayers--the butler and the maid, the assistant director, Phelps's house servants, and Emery Phelps himself. For someunknown reason he left the owner of the house to the very last. 

"Why did you wish these scenes photographed out here?" he asked. 

"Because I wanted to see my library in pictures. "

"Were you watching the taking of the scenes?"

"Yes!"

"Will you describe just what happened?"

Phelps flushed. He was irritated and in no mood to humor us anymore than necessary. A man of perhaps forty, with the portlyflabbiness which often accompanies success in the financialmarkets, he was accustomed to obtaining rather than yieldingobedience. A bachelor, he had built this house as a show placemerely, according to the gossip among newspaper men, seldomliving in it. 

"Haven't about a dozen people described it for you already?" heasked, distinctly petulant. 

Kennedy smiled. "Did you notice anything particularly out of theway, anything which might be a clue to the manner in which MissLamar met her death?"

Phelps's attitude became frankly malicious. "If I had, or if anyof us had, we wouldn't have found it necessary to send for Prof. Craig Kennedy, or"--turning to me--"the representative of the NewYork Star. "

Kennedy, undisturbed, walked to the side of Mackay. "I'll leaveMr. Phelps and his house in your care, " he remarked, in a lowvoice. 

Mackay grinned. I saw that the district attorney had little lovefor the owner of this particular estate in Tarrytown. 

Kennedy led the way into the living room. Immediately the variouspeople he had questioned clustered up with varying degrees ofanxiety. Had the mystery been solved?

He gave them no satisfaction, but singled out Manton, who seemedeager to get away. 

"Where is Millard? I would like to talk to him. "

"I'll try to get him for you. Suppose--" Manton looked at hiswatch. "I should be in at the studio, " he explained. "Everythingis at a standstill, probably, and--and so, suppose you and Mr. Jameson ride in with me in my car. Millard might be there. "

Kennedy brightened. "Good!" Then he looked back to catch the eyeof Mackay. "Let everyone go now, " he directed. "Don't forget tosend me the samples of the body fluids and"--as an afterthought--"you'd better keep a watch on the house. "

VI

THE FIRST CLUE

Manton's car was a high-powered, expensive limousine, fittedinside with every luxury of which the mind of even a prima donnacould conceive, painted a vivid yellow that must have made it anobject of attention even on its familiar routes. It was quitecharacteristic of its owner, for Manton, as we learned, missed nochance to advertise himself. 

In the back with us was Werner, while the rest of the companywere left to return to the city in the two studio cars which hadbrought them out in the morning. The director, however, seemedburied with his reflections. He took no part in the conversation;paid no attention to us upon the entire trip. 

Manton's mind seemed to dwell rather upon the problems brought upby the death of Stella than upon the tragedy itself. The Star'sphotoplay editor once had remarked to me that the promoter was 90per cent "bull, " and 10 per cent efficiency. I found that it wasan unfair estimation. With all his self-advertisement and almostobnoxious personality, Manton was a more than capable executivein a business where efficiency and method are rare. 

"This has been a hoodoo picture from the start, " he exclaimed, suddenly. "We have been jinxed with a vengeance. Some one hasheld the Indian sign on us for sure. "

Kennedy, I noticed, listened, studying the man cautiously fromthe corners of his eyes, but making no effort to draw him out. 

"First there were changes to be made in the script, and for thoseMillard took his own sweet time. Then we were handed a lot ofnegative which had been fogged in the perforator, a thing thatdoesn't happen once in a thousand years. But it caught us just aswe sent the company down to Delaware Water Gap. A whole ten days'work went into the developer at once. Neither of the camera mencaught the fog in their tests because it came in the middle ofthe rolls. Everything had to be done over again. 

"And accidents! We carefully registered the principal accompliceof the 'Black Terror, ' a little hunchback with a face to sendchills down your back. After we had him in about half the scenesof a sequence of action he was taken sick and died of influenza. First we waited a few days; then we had to take all that stuffover again. 

"Our payroll on this picture is staggering. Stella's threethousand a week is cheap for her, the old contract, but it's alot of money to throw away. Two weeks when she was under theweather cost us six thousand dollars salary and there was half aweek we couldn't do any work without her. Gordon and Shirley andMarilyn Loring draw down seventeen hundred a week between them. The director's salary is only two hundred short of that. All told'The Black Terror' is costing us a hundred thousand dollars overour original estimate. 

"And now"--it seemed to me that Manton literally groaned--"withStella Lamar dead--excuse me looking at it this way, but, afterall, it is business and I'm the executive at the head of thecompany--now we must find a new star, Lord knows where, and wemust retake every scene in which Stella appeared. It--it's enoughto bankrupt Manton Pictures for once and all. "

"Can't you change the story about some way, so you won't lose thevalue of her work?" asked Kennedy. 

"Impossible! We've announced the release and we've got to goahead. Fortunately, some of the biggest sets are not taken yet. "

The car pulled up with a flourish before the Manton studio, whichwas an immense affair of reinforced concrete in the upper Bronx. Then, in response to our horn, a great wide double door swungopen admitting us through the building to a large courtyardaround which the various departments were built. 

Here, there was little indication that the principal star of thecompany had just met her death under mysterious and suspiciouscircumstances. Perhaps, had I been familiar with the ordinarybustle of the establishment, I might have detected a difference. Indeed, it did strike me that there were little knots of peoplehere and there discussing the tragedy, but everything wasovershadowed by the aquatic scene being filmed in the courtyardfor some other Manton picture. The cramped space about theconcrete tank was alive with people, a mob of extras and stagehands and various employees, a sight which held Kennedy and mefor some little time. I was glad when Manton led the way througha long hall to the comparative quiet of the office building. Inthe reception room there was a decided hush. 

"Is Millard here?" he asked of the boy seated at the informationdesk. 

"No, sir, " was the respectful reply. "He was here this morningand for a while yesterday. "

"You see!" Manton confronted Kennedy grimly. "This is only one ofthe things with which we have to contend in this business. I giveMillard an office but he's a law unto himself. It's the artistictemperament. If I interfere, then he says he cannot write and hedoesn't produce any manuscript. Ordinarily he cannot be botheredto work at the studio. But"--philosophically--"I know where toget him as a general thing. He does most of his writing in hisrooms downtown; says there's more inspiration in the confusion ofBroadway than in the wilds of the Bronx. I'll phone him. "

We followed the promoter up the stairs to the second and topfloor. Here a corridor gave access to the various executiveoffices. Its windows at frequent intervals looked down upon thecourtyard and the present confusion. 

Werner, who had preceded us into the building, now came up. AsManton bustled into his own office to use the telephone thedirector turned to Kennedy, indicating the next doorway. 

"This is my place, " he explained. "It connects with Manton, onone side, through his reception room. You see, in addition todirecting Stella Lamar I have been in general charge ofproduction and most of the casting is up to me. "

Kennedy entered after Werner, interested, and I followed. Thedoor through to the reception room stood open and beyond was theone to Manton's quarters. I could see the promoter at his desk, receiver at his ear, an impatient expression upon his face. Inthe reception room a rather pretty girl, young and of a shallow-pated type I thought, was busy at a clattering typewriter. Sherose and closed the door upon Manton, so as not to disturb him. 

"The next office on this side is Millard's, " volunteered Werner. "He's the only scenario writer dignified with quarters in thisbuilding. "

"Manton has other writers, hasn't he?" Kennedy asked. 

"Yes, the scenario department is on the third floor across thecourt, above the laboratory and cutting rooms. "

"Who else is in the building here?"

"There are six rooms on this floor, " Werner replied. "Manton, thewaiting room, myself, Millard, and the two other directors. Belowis the general reception room, the cashier, the bookkeepers andstenographers. "

As Manton probably was having trouble obtaining his connection, and as Kennedy continued to question Werner concerning thegeneral arrangement of the different floors in the differentbuildings about the quadrangle, all uninteresting to me, Idetermined to look about a bit on my own hook. I was stillanxious to be of genuine assistance to Kennedy, for once, throughmy greater knowledge of the film world. 

Strolling out into the corridor, I went to the door of Millard'sroom. To my disappointment, it was locked. Continuing down thehall, I stole a glance into each of the two directors' quartersbut saw nothing to awaken my suspicion or justify my intrusion. Beyond, I discovered a washroom, and, aware suddenly of theimmense amount of dust I had acquired in the ride in fromTarrytown, I entered to freshen my hands and face at the least. It was a stroke of luck, a fortunate impulse. 

The amount of money to be made in the movies had resulted, in thecase of Manton, in luxurious equipment for all the variousdepartments of his establishment. I had noticed the offices, furnished with a richness worthy of a bank or some great downtowninstitution. Now, in the lavatory, immaculate with its white tileand modern appointments, I saw a shelf literally stacked, in thisday of paper, with linen towels of the finest quality. 

As I drew the water, hot instantly, my eye caught, half in andhalf out of the wire basket beneath the stand, one of the towelscovered with peculiar yellow spots. Immediately my suspicionswere awakened. I picked it up gingerly. At close range I saw thatthe spots were only chrome yellow make-up, but there were alsospots of a different nature. I did not stop to think of theunlikeliness of the discovery of a real clue under thesecircumstances, analyzed afterward by Kennedy. I folded the towelhastily and hurried to rejoin him, to show it to him. 

I found him with Werner, waiting for the results of Manton'sefforts to locate Millard. Almost at the moment I rejoined thetwo a boy came to summon Werner to one of the sets out on thestage itself. Kennedy and I were alone. I showed him the towel. 

At first he laughed, "You'll never make a detective, Walter, " heremarked. "This is only simple coloring matter-Chinese yellow, tobe exact. And will you tell me, too"--he became ironical--"how doyou expect to find clues of this sort here for a murder committedin Tarrytown when all the people present were held out there andexamined, when we are the first to arrive back here?

"Yellow, you know, photographs white. Chinese yellow is usedlargely in studios in place of white in make-up because it doesnot cause halation, which, to the picture people, is the bane oftheir existence. White is too glaring, reflects rays that blurthe photography sometimes. 

"If you will notice, the next time you see them shooting a scene, you will find the actors' faces tinged with yellow. Eventablecloths and napkins and 'white' dresses are frequentlycolored a pale yellow, although pale blue has the actinicqualities of white for this purpose, and is now perhaps morefrequently used than yellow. "

I was properly chastened. In fact, though I did not say much, Ialmost determined to let him conduct his case himself. 

Kennedy saw my crestfallen expression and understood. He wasabout to say something encouraging, as he handed back the towel, when his eye fell on the other end of it, which, indeed, I myselfhad noticed. 

He sobered instantly and studied the other spots. Indeed, I hadnot examined them closely myself. They were the very faint stainsof some other yellow substance, a liquid which had dried and didnot rub off as the make-up, and there were also some small rounddrops of dark red, almost hidden in the fancy red scrollwork ofthe lettering on the towel, "Manton Pictures, Inc. " The latterhad escaped me altogether. 

"Blood!" Kennedy exclaimed. Then, "Look here!" The marks of thepale yellow liquid trailed into a slender trace of blood. "Itlooks as if some one had cleaned a needle on it, " he muttered, "and in a hurry. "

I remembered his previous remark. The murder had been inTarrytown. We had just arrived here. 

"Would anyone have time to do it?" I asked. 

"Whoever used the towel did so in a hurry, " he reiterated, seriously. "It may have been some one afraid to leave any sort ofclue out there at Phelps's house. There were too many watchersabout. It might have seemed better to have run the risk of asearch. With no sign of a wound on Miss Lamar's person, it waspretty certain that neither Mackay nor I would attempt to friskeveryone. It was not as though we were looking for a revolver, ifshe were shot, or a knife, if she had been stabbed. And"--hecould not resist another dig at me--"and that we should look in awashroom here for a towel was, well, an idea that wouldn't occurto anyone but the most amateur and blundering sort of sleuth. It's beginner's luck, Walter, beginner's luck. "

I ignored the uncomplimentary part of his remarks. "Who couldhave been in the washroom just before me?" I asked. 

Suddenly he hurried through the waiting room to the door toManton's office, opening it without ceremony. Manton was gone. Weexchanged glances. I remembered that Werner had preceded usupstairs. "It means Werner or Manton himself, " I whispered, sothe girl just behind us would not hear. 

Kennedy strode out to the hall, and to a window overlooking thecourt. After a moment he pointed. I recognized both the cars usedto transport the company to the home of Emery Phelps. There wasno sign that either had just arrived, for even the chauffeurswere out of sight, perhaps melted into the crowd about the tankin the corner. 

"They must have arrived immediately behind us, " Kennedy remarked. "We wasted several valuable minutes looking at that water stuffourselves. "

At that moment Werner's voice rose from the reception room below. It was probable that he would be up to rejoin us again. Iremembered that he had not been at all at ease while Kennedyquestioned him in Tarrytown; that here at the studio he had beenpalpably anxious to remain close at our heels. I felt a surge ofsuspicion within me. 

"Listen, Craig, " I muttered, in low tones. "Manton had noopportunity to steal down the hall after the girl closed thedoor, and--"

"Why not!" he interrupted, contradicting me. "We had our backs tothe door while we were talking with Werner. "

"Well, anyhow, it narrows down to Manton and Werner because thatis the washroom for these offices--"

"'Sh!" Kennedy stopped me as Werner mounted the stairs. He turnedto the director with assumed nonchalance. "How long have theother cars been here?" he asked. "I thought we came pretty fast. "

Werner smiled. "I guess those boys had enough of Tarrytown. Theyrolled into the yard, both of them, while you and Mr. Jameson andManton were stopping to watch the people in the water. "

"I see!" Kennedy gave me a side glance. "Where are the dressingrooms?" he inquired. It was a random shot. 

Werner pointed to the end of the hall, toward the washroom. "Inthe next building, on this floor--that is, the principals'. It'sa rotten arrangement, " he added. "They come through sometimes anduse our lavatory, because it's a little more fancy and because itsaves a trip down a flight of stairs. Believe me, it gets oldManton on his ear. "

VII

ENID FAYE

Behind Werner was the assistant director, to whom I had givenlittle attention at the time of the examination of the variouspeople in the Phelps library. Even now he impressed me as one ofthose rare, unobtrusive types of individuals who seem, in spiteof the possession of genuine ability and often a great deal ofefficiency, to lack, nevertheless, any outstanding personalcharacteristics. As a class they are human machines, to beneither liked nor disliked, never intruding and yet always onhand when needed. 

"This is Carey Drexel, my assistant, " Werner stated, forgettingthat Kennedy had questioned him at Tarrytown, and so knew him. "There are a few people I simply must see and I'm tied up, therefore, for perhaps half an hour; and Manton's downstairsstill trying to locate Millard for you. But Carey's at yourdisposal, Mr. Kennedy, to show you the arrangement of the studioand to cooperate with you in any way if you think there's anypossible chance of finding anything to bear upon Stella's deathhere. "

If Werner was the man who had used the towel, I could see that hewas an actor and a cool villain. Of course no one could know, yet, that we had discovered it, but the very nonchalance withwhich it had been thrown into the basket was a mark of the nerveof the guilty man. It was more than carelessness. Nothing aboutthe crime had been haphazard. 

Kennedy thanked Werner and asked to be shown the studio floorused in the making of "The Black Terror. " Carey led the way, explaining that there were actually two studios, one at each endof the quadrangle, connected on both sides by the otherbuildings; offices and dressing rooms and the costume andproperty departments at the side facing the street; technicallaboratories and all the detail of film manufacture in a four-story structure to the rear. Most of Werner's own picture wasbeing made in the so-called big studio, reached through thedressing rooms from the end of the corridor where we stood. 

I had been in film plants before, but when we entered the hugeglass-roofed inclosure beyond the long hallway of dressing roomsI was impressed by the fact that here was a place of genuinemagnitude, with more life and bustle than anything I had everimagined. The glass had, however, been painted over, because oflate years dark stages, with the even quality of artificiallight, had come into vogue in the Manton studios in place ofstages lighted by the uneven and undependable sunlight. 

The two big sets mentioned by Manton, a banquet hall and aballroom, were being erected simultaneously. Carpenters were atwork sawing and hammering. Werner's technical director wasshouting at a group of stage hands putting a massive mirror inposition at the end of the banquet hall, a clever device to givethe room the appearance of at least double its actual length. Inone corner several electricians and a camera man wereexperimenting with a strange-looking bank of lights. In theballroom set, where the flats or walls were all in place, anunexcited paperhanger was busy with the paraphernalia of hiscraft, somehow looking out of his element in this reign ofpandemonium. 

It seemed hard indeed to believe that any sort of order or systemlay behind this heterogeneous activity, and the incident whichtook Carey Drexel away from us only added to the wonder in mymind, a wonder that anything tangible and definite could beaccomplished. 

"Oh, Carey!" Another assistant director, or perhaps he was only aproperty boy, rushed up frantically the moment he saw Drexel. "Miss Miller's on a rampage because the grand piano you promisedto get for her isn't at her apartment yet, and Bessie Terry's intears because she left her parrot here overnight, as yousuggested, and some one taught the bird to swear. " The intruder, a youth of perhaps eighteen, was in deadly earnest. "For the loveof Mike, Carey, " he went on, "tell me how to unteach thatscreeching thing of Bessie's, or we won't get a scene today. "

Carey Drexel looked at Kennedy helplessly. 

With all these troubles, how could he pilot us about? Later welearned that this was nothing new, once one gets on the inside ofpicture making. Props. , or properties, particularly the livingones, cause almost as much disturbance as the temperamentalnotions of the actors and actresses. Sometimes it is a questionwhich may become the most ridiculous. 

Kennedy seemed to be satisfied with his preliminary visit to thisstudio floor. 

"We can get back to Manton's office alone, " he told Drexel. "Wewill just keep on circling the quadrangle. "

Relieved, the assistant director pointed to the door of themanufacturing building, as the four-story structure in the rearwas called. Then he bustled off with the other youth, quiteunruffled himself. 

When we passed through the heavy steel fire door we foundourselves in another long hallway of fire-brick and reinforced-concrete construction. Unquestionably there was no danger of aserious conflagration in any part of Manton's plant, despite thehigh inflammability of the film itself, of the flimsy stage sets, of practically everything used in picture manufacture. 

Immediately we entered this building I detected a peculiar odor, at which I sniffed eagerly. I was reminded of the burnt-almondodor of the cyanides. Was this another clue?

I turned to Kennedy but he smiled, anticipating me. 

"Banana oil, Walter, " he explained, with rather a superiormanner. "I imagine it's used a great deal in this industry. Anyway"--a chuckle--"don't expect chance to deliver clues to youin wholesale quantities. You have done very well for today. "

A sudden whirring noise, from an open door down the hall, attracted us, and we paused. This, I guessed, was a cutting room. There were a number of steel tables, with high steel chairs. Atthe walls were cabinets of the same material. Each table had twowinding arrangements, a handle at the operator's right hand andone at his left, so that he could wind or unwind film from onereel to another, passing it forward or backward in front of hiseyes. 

There were girls at the tables except nearest the hall. Here aman stopped now and then to glance at the ribbon of film, or tocut out a section, dropping the discarded piece into a fireproofcan and splicing the two ends of the main strip together againwith liquid film cement from a small bottle. He looked up as hesensed our presence. 

"Isn't it hell?" he remarked, in friendly fashion. "I've got tocut all of Stella Lamar out of 'The Black Terror, ' so they canduplicate her scenes with another star, and meanwhile we had halfthe negative matched and marked for colors and spliced in rolls, all ready for the printer. "

Without waiting for an answer from us, or expecting one, he gaveone of his reels a vicious spin, producing the whirring noise;then grasping both reels between his fingers and bringing them toan abrupt stop, so that I wondered he did not burn himself fromthe friction, he located the next piece to be eliminated. 

We followed the hall into the smaller studio and there found acomedy company at work. Without stopping to watch the players, ghastly under the light from the Cooper-Hewitts and Kliegel arcs, we found a precarious way back of the set around and under stagebraces, to the covered bridge leading once more to the corridoroutside Manton's office. 

Now the girl was absent from her place in the little waitingroom. Manton's door stood open. Without ceremony Kennedy led theway in and dropped down at the side of the promoter's hugemahogany desk. 

"I'm tired, Walter, " he said. "Furthermore, I think this pictureworld of yours is a bedlam. We face a hard task. "

"How do you propose to go about things?" I asked. 

"I'm afraid this is a case which will have to be approachedentirely through psychological reactions. You and I will have tobecome familiar with the studio and home life of all the longlist of possible suspects. I shall analyze the body fluids of thedeceased and learn the cause of death, and I will find out whatit is on the towel, but"--sighing--"there are so many differentramifications, so many--"

Suddenly his eye caught the corner of a piece of paper slid underthe glass of Manton's desk. He pulled it out; then handed it tome. 

MEMORANDUM FOR MR. MANTON

Have learned Enid Faye is out of Pentangle and can be engaged forabout twelve hundred if you act quickly. Why not cancel Lamarcontract after "Black Terror, " if she continues up-stage?

WERNER. 

"I caught the name Lamar, " Kennedy explained. Then an expressionof gratification crept into his face. "Miss Lamar was 'up-stage'?" he mused. "That's a theatrical word for cussedness, isn't it?"

I paid little attention. The name of Enid Faye had attracted myown interest. This was the little dare-devil who had breezed intothe Pacific Coast film colony and had swept everything beforeher. Not only had she displayed amazing nerve for her sex andsize, but she had been pretty and beautifully formed, had been asmuch at home in a ballroom as in an Annette Kellermann bathingsuit. In less than six months she had learned to act and had beenbrought to the Eastern studios of Pentangle. Now it was possiblethat she would be captured by Manton, would be blazoned all overthe country by that gentleman, would become another star of hismaking. 

"Let's go, Walter!" Kennedy, impatient, rose. I noticed that hefolded the little note, slipping it into his pocket. 

Out in the hall voices came to us from Werner's office. Aftersome little hesitation Kennedy opened the door unceremoniously. At the table, littered with blue prints and drawings and coloredplates of famous home interiors, was the director. With him wasManton. Seated facing them, in rare good humor, was a fascinatinglittle lady. 

The promoter rose. "Professor Kennedy, I want you to meet MissEnid Faye, one of our real comers. And Mr. Jameson, Enid, of theNew York Star. "

She acknowledged the introduction to Kennedy gracefully. Then sheturned, rising, and rushed to me most effusively, leading me to aleather-covered couch and pulling me to a seat beside her. 

"Mr. Jameson, " she purred. "I just love newspaper men; I thinkthey're perfectly wonderful always. Tell me, do you like littleEnid?"

I nodded, confused and unhappy, and as red as a schoolboy. 

"That's fine, " she went on, in the best modulated and mostwonderful voice I thought I had ever heard. "I like you and Iknow we're going to be the best of friends. Tell me, what's yourfirst name?"

"Now, Enid, " reproved Manton, in fatherly tones, "you'll haveplenty of time to vamp your publicity later. For the present, please listen to me. We're talking business. "

"Shoot every hair of this old gray head!" she directed, pertly. 

She did not move away, however, I could feel the warmth of her, could catch the delicacy of the perfume she used. I noted theplay of her slender fingers, the trimness of her ankle, thepiquancy of a nose revealed to me in profile--and nothing else. 

"This is your chance, Enid, " Manton continued, earnestly andrather eagerly. "You know the film will be the most talked aboutone this year. We've got the Merritt papers lined up and that'sthe best advertising in the world. Everyone will know you tookStella's place, and--well, you'll step right in. "

She studied the tips of her boots, stretching boyish limbsstraight in front of her, then smoothing the soft folds of herskirt. 

"Talk money to me, Mr. Man!" she exclaimed. "Talk the shekels, the golden shekels. "

"We're broke, " he protested. "A thousand--"

She shook her head. 

Werner broke in, suddenly anxious. "Don't pass up the chance, Enid, " he pleaded. "What can Pentangle do for you? And I'vealways wanted to direct you again--"

"I'll make it twelve hundred, " Manton interrupted, "if you'llmake the contract personally with me. Then if Manton Pictures--"

"All right!" She jumped to her feet, extending a hand straightforward to each, the right to Manton, the left to Werner. "You'reon!"

I thought that I was forgotten. A wave of jealousy swept over me. After all, she simply wanted me to write her up. In a daze Iheard Manton. 

"You're a wise little girl, Enid, " he told her. "Play the gameright with me and you'll climb high. The sky's the limit, now. I'll make you--make you big!"

With a full, warm smile she swung around to me and I knew I wasnot being slighted, after all. 

"That's what Longfellow said, isn't it, Mr. Jameson?"

"What?" My heart began to beat like a trip hammer. 

"Excelsior! Excelsior! It packs them in!"

She laughed so infectiously that we all joined in. Then Mantonturned to Kennedy. 

"I've located Millard for you. He's to meet us at my apartment atseven. It's six-thirty now. And you, Enid"--facing her--"ifyou'll come, too, there's another man I want you to meet, andLarry, of course, will be there--"

Enid studied Kennedy. He was hesitating as though not surewhether to accompany Manton or not. I never did learn what othercourse of action had occurred to him. 

But I did notice that the little star, with her pert, upturnedface, seemed more anxious to have Kennedy go along than she wasto meet the mysterious individual mentioned without name byManton. For an instant she was on the point of addressing him, flippantly, no doubt. Then, I think she was rather awed atCraig's reputation. 

All at once she shrugged her shoulders and turned to me, pluckingmy sleeve, her expression brightening irresistibly. "You'll come, too"--dimpling--"Jamie!"

VIII

LAWRENCE MILLARD

It struck me on the trip to Manton's apartment that the filmpeople were wholly unfeeling, were even uninterested in the deathof Stella Lamar except where it interfered with their businessarrangements. Werner excused himself and did not accompany us, onthe score of the complete realignment of production necessary toplace Enid in Stella's part. It seemed to me that he felt acertain relish in the problem, that he was almost glad of thecircumstances which brought Enid to him. His last words to Mantonwere, to be sure to have Millard recast the action of the sceneswherever possible, so as to give Enid the better chance todisplay her own personality. 

I marveled as I realized that the remains of Stella Lamar werescarcely cold before these people were figuring on the star totake her place. 

As Manton talked, the thought crossed my mind that such a manneeded no publicity manager. I dismissed the idea that he mightbe capable even of murder for publicity. But at least it was aninsight into some methods of the game. 

As our car mounted to the Concourse and turned Manhattanward Iwas distinctly unhappy. Manton monopolized Enid completely, insisting upon talking over everything under the sun, from thewardrobe she would need in Stella's part and the best sort ofpersonal advertising campaign for her, to the first availableevening when she could go to dinner with him. 

She sat in the rear seat, between Kennedy and the promoter, whichdid not add to my sense of comfort. The only consoling featurefrom my viewpoint was that I was admirably placed to study her, and that Manton held her so engrossed that I had everyopportunity to do so unnoticed. Because she had overwhelmed me socompletely I did nothing of the kind. I knew we were riding withthe most beautiful woman in New York, but I did not know thecolor of her hair or eyes, or even the sort of hat or dress shewore. In short I was movie-struck. 

We stopped at last at a huge, ornate apartment house on RiversideDrive and Manton led the way through the wide Renaissanceentrance and the luxurious marble hall to the elevator. Hisquarters, on the top floor, facing the river, were almost exoticin the lavishness and barbaric splendor of their furnishings. Myfirst impression as we entered the place was that Manton hadpurposely planned the dim lights of rich amber and the clingingOriental fragrance hovering about everything so as to produce analluring and enticing atmosphere. The chairs and wide upholsteredwindow seats, the soft, yielding divans in at least two corners, with their miniature mountains of tiny pillows, all werecomfortable with the comfort one associates with lotus eating andthat homeward journey soon to be forgotten. There was the smokeof incense, unmistakably. On a taboret were cigarettes and cigarsand through heavy curtains I caught a glimpse of a sideboard anddecanters, filled and set out very frankly. 

A Japanese butler, whom Manton called Huroki, took our hats andretreated with a certain emanating effluvium of subtlety such asI had known only once before, when the Oriental attendant left meon the occasion of my only visit to an opium den in Chinatown. 

A moment later Millard, who had been waiting, rose to greet us. 

I would have guessed him to be an author, I believe, had I methim at random anywhere in the city. He affected all theprofessional marks and mannerisms, and yet he did so gracefully. I noticed, in the little hall where Huroki placed our headgear, asingle-jointed Malacca stick, a dark-colored and soft-brimmedfelt hat, and a battered brief-case. That was Millard, unquestionably. The man himself was tall and loose-limbed, heavywith an appearance of slenderness. His face was handsome, ratherintellectual in spite of rather than because of large horn-rimmedglasses. His mouth and chin showed strength and determination, which was a surprise to me. In fact, in no way did he seem toreveal the artist. Lawrence Millard was a commercial writer, adreamer never. 

First he greeted Enid, taking both of her hands in his. In thisone brief moment all my own little romance went glimmering, for Icould not blind myself to the softening of his expression, thewelcoming light in hers, the long interval in which their fingersremained interlaced. 

And then another thought came to me, hastened, fed and fattenedupon my jealousy. The sealed testimony in the case of Millard vs. Millard! Could Enid, by any chance, be concerned in that?

The next moment I dismissed the thought, or at least I thought Idid so. I tried to picture Enid's work on the Coast, to rememberthe short time she had been in the East. It was possible Millardhad known her before she went to Los Angeles, but unlikely. 

Millard next turned to Kennedy. 

"I just learned of the tragedy a short while ago, Professor, " heexclaimed. "It is terrible, and so amazingly sudden, too! It--ithas upset me completely. Tell me, have you found anything? Haveyou discovered any possible clue? Is there anything at all I cando to help?"

"I would like to ask a few questions, " Kennedy explained. 

"By all means!"

He extended a hand to me and I found it damp and flabby, asthough he were more concerned than his manner betrayed. He facedKennedy again, however, immediately. 

"Stella and I didn't make a go of our married life at all, " hewent on, frankly enough. "I was very sorry, too, because I wasgenuinely fond of her. "

"How recently have you seen her?"

"Stella? Not for over a month--perhaps longer than that. "

Manton took Enid by the arm. It was evidently her first visit tothe apartment and he was anxious to show her his varioustreasures. 

Millard, Kennedy, and I found a corner affording a view out overthe Hudson. After Kennedy had described, briefly, thecircumstances of Stella's death, at Millard's insistence, heproduced the note he had found in her handbag. The authorrecognized it at once, without reading it. 

"Yes, I wrote that!" Then just a trace of emotion crept into hisvoice. "I was too late, " he murmured. 

"What was it you wanted to say?" Kennedy inquired. 

Millard's glance traveled to Manton and Enid, a troubledsomething in his expression. I could see that the promoter wasmaking the most of his tete-a-tete with the girl, but she seemedperfectly at ease and quite capable of handling the man, and I, certainly, was more disturbed at the interest of Millard. 

"I thought there was something about the business I ought to tellStella, " he answered, finally. "Manton Pictures is pretty shaky. "

"Oh! Then Manton wasn't talking for effect when he told Miss Fayethat the company was broke?"

"No, indeed! In fact, didn't Enid make her agreement with Mantonpersonally? That's what I advised her to do. "

Kennedy nodded. "But is Manton himself financially sound?"

Millard laughed. "Lloyd Manton always has a dozen things up hissleeve. He may have a million or he may owe a million. " In theauthor's voice was no respect for his employer. A touch of malicecrept into his tone. "Manton will make money for anyone who canmake money for him, " he added, "that is, provided he has to doit. "

Kennedy and I exchanged glances. This was close to an assertionof downright dishonesty. At that moment Huroki stole in on paddedfeet, as noiseless as a wraith. 

"Yes, Huroki?" His master turned, inquiringly. 

"Mr. Leigh, " was the butler's announcement. 

"Show him in, " said Manton; then he hurried over to us. "Courtlandt Leigh, the banker, you know. "

I imagine I showed my surprise, for Kennedy smiled as he caughtmy face. Leigh was a bigger man than Phelps, of the higheststanding in downtown financial circles. If Manton had interestedCourtlandt Leigh in moving pictures he was a wizard indeed. 

It seemed to me that the banker was hardly in the apartmentbefore he saw Enid, and from that moment the girl engrossed himto the exclusion of everything else. For Enid, I will say thatshe was a wonder. She seemed to grasp the man's instantinfatuation and immediately she set about to complete theconquest, all without permitting him so much as to touch her. 

"You'll excuse us?" remarked Manton, easily, as he drew Phelpsand Enid away. 

"See!" exclaimed Millard, in a low voice, frowning now as hewatched the girl. "Manton's clever! I've never known him unableto raise money, and that's why I wanted Enid to have her contractwith him personally. If Manton Pictures blows up he'd put her insome other company. "

"He has more than one?" This seemed to puzzle Kennedy. 

"He's been interested in any number on the side, " Millardexplained. "Now he's formed another, but it's a secret so far. You've heard of Fortune Features, perhaps?"

Kennedy looked at me, but I shook my head. 

"What is 'Fortune Features'?" Kennedy asked the question ofMillard. 

"Just another company in which Manton has an interest, " hereplied, casually. "That was why I said I advised that Enid makeher contract personally with Manton. If Manton Pictures goes up, then he will have to swing her into Fortune Features--the otherManton enterprise, don't you see?" He paused, then added: "By theway, don't say anything outside about that. It isn't generallyknown--and as soon as anyone does hear it, everybody in the filmgame will hear it. You don't know how gossip travels in thisbusiness. "

Kennedy asked a few personal questions about Stella, butMillard's answers indicated that he had not contemplated or evenhoped for a reconciliation, that his interest in his former wifehad become thoroughly platonic. Just now, however, he seemedunable to keep Manton out of his mind. 

"Oh, Manton's clever!" he said, confidentially to Kennedy, as hewatched the promoter deftly maneuvering Leigh and Enid into aposition side by side. 

And indeed, as Millard talked, I began to get some inkling of howreally clever was the game which Manton played. 

"Why, " continued Millard, warming up to his story--for, to him, above all, a good story was something that had to be told, whatever might result from it--"I have known him to pay a visitsome afternoon to Wall Street--go down there to beard the oldlions in their den. He always used to show up about the closingtime of the market. 

"I've known him to get into the office of some one like Leigh orPhelps. Then he'll begin to talk about his brilliant prospects inthe company he happens to be promoting at the time. If you listento Manton you're lost. I know it--I've listened, " he added, whimsically. 

"Well, " he continued, "the banker will begin to get restlessafter a bit--not at Manton, but at not getting away. 'My car isoutside, ' Manton will say. 'Let me drive you uptown. ' Of course, there's nothing else for the banker to do but to accept, and whenhe gets into Manton's car he's glad he did. I don't know anyonewho picks out such luxurious things as he does. Why, that mancould walk right out along Automobile Row, broke, and some onewould GIVE him a car. "

"How does he do it?" I put the question to him. 

"How does a fish swim?" said Millard, smiling. "He's clever, Itell you. Once he has the banker in the car, perhaps they stopfor a few moments at a club. At any rate, Manton usuallycontrives it so that, as they approach his apartment, he has histalk all worked up to the point where the banker is genuinelyinterested. You know there's almost nothing people will talk toyou longer about than moving pictures. 

"Well, on one pretext or another, Manton usually persuades thebanker to step up here for a moment. Poor simp! It's all overwith him then. I'll never forget how impressed Phelps was withthis place the first time. There, now, watch this fellow, Leigh. He thinks this looks like a million dollars. We're all here, playing Manton's game. We're his menagerie--he's Barnum. I tellyou, Leigh's lost, lost!"

I did not know quite what to make of Millard's cynicism. Was hetrying to be witty at Manton's expense? I noticed that he did notsmile himself. Although he was talking to us, his attention wasnot really on us. He was still watching Enid. 

"Then, along would happen Stella, as if by chance. "

Millard paused bitterly, as though he did not quite relish thetelling it, but felt that Kennedy would pry it out of him or someone else finally, and he might as well have it over with frankly. 

"Yes, " he said, thoughtfully, "but it all wasn't really Manton'sfault, after all. Stella liked the Bohemian sort of life toomuch--and Manton does the Bohemian up here wonderfully. It wastoo much for Stella. Then, when Phelps came along and was ropedin, she fell for him. It was good-by, poor Millard! I wasn'trapid enough for that crowd. "

I almost began to sympathize with Millard in the association intowhich, for his living's sake, his art had forced him. I realized, too, that really the banker, the wise one from Wall Street, wasthe sucker. 

Indeed, as Millard told it, I could easily account for thetemptation of Stella. To a degree, I suppose, it was really herfault, for she ought to have known the game, shown more sensethan to be taken in by the thing. I wondered at the continuedrelations of Millard with Manton, under the circumstances. However, I reflected, if Stella had chosen to play the littlefool, why should Millard have allowed that to ruin his ownchances?

What interested me now was that Millard did not seem to relishthe attentions which the banker was paying to Enid. Was Mantonframing up the same sort of game again on Leigh?

However, when Enid shot a quick glance at Millard in an aside ofthe conversation, accompanied by a merry wink, I saw thatMillard, though still doubtful, was much more at ease. 

Evidently there was a tacit understanding between the two. 

Kennedy glanced over at me. Bit by bit the checkered history ofStella Lamar's life was coming to light. 

I began to see more clearly. Deserting Millard and fascinated byManton and his game, she had been used to interest Phelps in thecompany. In turn she had been dazzled by the glitter of thePhelps gold. She had not proved loyal even to the producer andpromoter. 

Perhaps, I reflected, that was why Millard was so apparentlycomplacent. One could not, under the circumstances, have expectedhim to display wild emotion. His attitude had been that of onewho thought, "She almost broke me; let her break some one else. "

That, however, was not his attitude toward Enid now. Indeed, heseemed genuinely concerned that she should not follow in the samesteps. 

Later, I learned that was not all of the history of Stella. Fifteen hundred dollars a week of her own money, besides lavishpresents, had been too much for her. Even Phelps's money had hadno over-burdening attraction for her. The world--at least thatpart of it which spends money on Broadway, had been open to her. Jack Daring had charmed her for a while--hence the engagement. OfShirley, I did not even know. Perhaps the masterful crime roleshe played might have promised some new thrill, with thepossibility that they expressed something latent in his life. Atany rate, she had dilettanted about him, to the amazement anddismay of Marilyn. That we knew. 

The dinner hour was approaching, and, in spite of the urgentinvitation of Manton, Leigh was forced to excuse himself to keepa previous appointment. I felt, though, that he would have brokenit if only Enid had added her urging. But she did not, much tothe relief of Millard. Manton took it in good part. Perhaps hewas wise enough to reflect that many other afternoons were in thelap of the future. 

"What is Manton up to?" Kennedy spoke to Millard. "Is it off withthe old and on with the new? Is Phelps to be cast aside like asqueezed-out lemon, and Leigh taken on for a new citrus fruit?"

Millard smiled. He said nothing, but the knowing glance wasconfirmation enough that in his opinion Kennedy had expressed thestate of affairs correctly. 

Millard hastened to the side of Enid at once and we learned thenthat they had a theater engagement together and that Millard hadthe tickets in his pocket. Once more I realized it was no new orrecent acquaintanceship between these two. Again I wondered whatwoman had been named in Stella Lamar's divorce suit, and againdismissed the thought that it could be Enid. 

Kennedy took his hat and handed me mine. "We must eat, Walter, aswell as the rest of them, " he remarked, when Manton led the wayto the door. 

I was loath to leave and I suppose I showed it. The truth wasthat little Enid Faye had captivated me. It was hard to tearmyself away. 

In the entrance I hesitated, wondering whether I should say good-by to her. She seemed engrossed with Millard. 

A second time she took me clean off my feet. While I stood there, foolishly, she left Millard and rushed up, extending her littlehand and allowing it to rest for a moment clasped in mine. 

"We didn't have a single opportunity to get acquainted, Mr. Jameson, " she complained, real regret in the soft cadences of hervoice. "Won't you phone me sometime? My name's in the book, orI'll be at the studio--"

I was tongue-tied. My glance, shifting from hers because I wassuddenly afraid of myself, encountered the gaze of Millard frombehind. Now I detected the unmistakable fire of jealousy in theeyes of the author. I presume I was never built to be a heavylover. Up and down my spine went a shiver of fear. I droppedEnid's hand and turned away abruptly. 

IX

WHITE-LIGHT SHADOWS

"What do you think of it?" I asked Kennedy, when we were halfthrough our meal at a tiny restaurant on upper Broadway. 

"We're still fumbling in the dark, " he replied. 

"There's the towel--"

"Yes, and almost any one on Mackay's list of nine suspects couldhave placed it in that washroom. "

"Well--" I was determined to draw him out. My own impressions, Imust confess, were gloriously muddled. "Manton heads the list, " Isuggested. "Everyone says she was mixed up with him. "

"Manton may have philandered with her; undoubtedly he takes apersonal interest in all his stars. " Kennedy, I saw, rememberedthe promoter's close attentions to Enid Faye. "Nevertheless, Walter, he is first and foremost and all the time the man ofbusiness. His heart is in his dollars and Millard even suggeststhat he is none too scrupulous. "

"If he had an affair with Stella, " I rejoined, "and she becameup-stage--the note you found suggested trouble, you know--thenManton in a burst of passion--"

"No!" Kennedy stopped me. "Don't forget that this was a cold-blooded, calculated crime. I'm not eliminating Manton yet, butuntil we find some tangible evidence of trouble between Stellaand himself we can hardly assume he would kill the girl who'smade him perhaps a million dollars. Every motive in Manton's caseis a motive against the crime. "

"That eliminates Phelps, then, too. He nearly owned the company. "

"Yes, unless something happened to outweigh financialconsiderations in his mind also. "

"But, good heavens! Kennedy, " I protested. "If you go on that wayyou'll not eliminate anyone. "

"I can't yet, " he explained, patiently. "It's just as I said. We're fishing in the dark, absolutely. So far we haven't a singlebasic fact on which to build any structure of hypothesis. We mustgo on fishing. I expect you to dig up all the facts about thesepeople; every odd bit of gossip or rumor or anything else. I'llbring my science to play, but there's nothing I can do exceptanalyze Stella's stomach contents and the spots on the towel;that is, until we've got a much more tangible lead than any whichhave developed so far. "

"Is there anything I can do to-night?"

"Yes!" He looked at his watch. "There are two men who were veryclose to Miss Lamar. Jack Gordon was engaged to her, MerleShirley seemed to have been mixed up with her seriously. All thepicture people have night haunts. See what you can find aboutthese two men. "

"But I don't know where to find them offhand, and--"

"Both belong to the Goats Club, probably. Try that as a start. "

I nodded and began to hurry my dessert. But I could not resistquestioning him. 

"You think they are the most likely suspects?"

"No, but they were intimately associated with Miss Lamar in herdaily life and they are the two we have learned the least about. "

"Oh!" I was disappointed. Then I rallied to the attack for afinal time. "Who is the most likely one. Just satisfy mycuriosity, Craig. "

He took a folded note from his pocket, opening it. It was thememorandum from Manton's desk which I had mentioned. In a flash Iunderstood. 

"Werner!" I exclaimed. "They said he was mixed up with her, too. He was the first back and out of the car and he had time to cleana needle on the towel, had a better opportunity than anyone else. More"--I began to get excited--"he was lying on the floor closeto her in the scene and could have jabbed her with a needle veryeasily, and--and he was extremely nervous when you questionedhim, the most nervous of all, and--and, finally, he had a motive, he wanted to get Enid Faye with Manton Pictures, as this noteshows. "

"Very good, Walter. " Kennedy's eyes were dancing in amusement. "It is true that Werner had the best motive, so far as we knownow, but it's a fantastic one. Men don't commit cold-bloodedmurder just to create a vacancy for a movie star. If Werner wasgoing to kill Miss Lamar he never would have written this noteabout Miss Faye. "

"Unless to divert suspicion, " I suggested. 

He shook his head. "The whole thing's too bizarre. "

"Werner was close to her in the dark. All the other things pointto him, don't they?"

"It's too bad everyone wasn't searched, at that, " Kennedyadmitted. "Nevertheless, at the time I realized that Werner hadhad the best opportunity for the actual performance of the crimeand I watched him very closely and made him go through everymovement just so I could study him. I believe he's innocent--atleast as far as I've gone in the case. "

I determined to stick to my opinion. "I believe it's Werner, " Iinsisted. 

"By the time you've dug up all the gossip about Gordon andShirley you won't be so sure, Walter. "

I was, however. Kennedy was not as familiar with the pictureworld as I. I had heard of too many actual happenings morestrange and bizarre and wildly fantastic than anythingconceivable in other walks of life. People in the film game, asthey call it, live highly seasoned lives in which everything isexaggerated. The mere desire to make a place for Enid might nothave actuated Werner, granting he was the guilty man. Nevertheless it could easily have contributed. And it struck mesuddenly, an additional argument, that Werner, of all of them, was the most familiar with the script. He had been able to casthimself for the part of old Remsen. There was not a detail whichhe could not have arranged very skillfully. 

At the Goats Club I was lucky to discover a member whom I knewwell enough to take into my confidence by stating my errand. Hewas one of the Star's former special writers and an olderclassman of the college which had graduated Kennedy and myself. 

"Merle Shirley is not a member here, " he said. "As a matter offact, I've only just heard the name. But Jack Gordon's a Goat, worse luck. That fellow's a bad actor--in real life--and adisgrace to us. "

"Tell me all you know about him?" I asked. 

"Well, to give you an example, he was in here just about a weekago. I was sitting in the grill, eating an after-theater supper, when I heard the most terrible racket. He and Emery Phelps, thebanker, you know, were having an honest-to-goodness fight rightout in the lobby. It took three of the men to separate them. "

"What was it all about. "

"Well, Gordon owes money right and left, not a few hundred orsome little personal debts like that, but thousands and thousandsof dollars. I got it from some of the other men here that he hasbeen speculating on the curb downtown, losing consistently. Morethan that, he's engaged to Stella Lamar--you knew that?--and he'sbeen blowing money on her. Then they tell me his professionalwork is suffering, that his recent screen appearances areterrible; the result of late hours and worry, I suppose. "

"The fight with Phelps was over money?"

"Of course! I figure that he kept drawing against his salary atthe studio until the film company shut down on him. Then probablyhe began to borrow from Phelps, who's Manton's backer now, untilthe banker shut down on him also. At any rate, Phelps had begunto dun him and it led to the fight. "

"That's all you know about Gordon?"

"Lord! Isn't it enough?"

I walked out of the club and toward Broadway, reflecting uponthis information. Could Gordon's debts have any bearing upon thecase? All at once one possibility struck me. He had beenborrowing from Phelps. Perhaps he had borrowed from Stella also. Perhaps that was the cause of their quarrel. Perhaps she hadthreatened to make trouble--it was a slender motive, but worthbringing to the attention of Kennedy. 

My immediate problem, however, was to obtain some informationabout Merle Shirley. At first I thought I would make the roundsof some of the better-known cafes, but that seemed a hopelesstask. Suddenly I remembered Belle Balcom, formerly with the Star. I recollected a previous case of Kennedy's where she and I hadbeen great rivals in the quest of news. I recalled a trip we hadmade to Greenwich Village together. Belle knew more people abouttown than any other newspaper woman. Now, for some months, shehad been connected with Screenings, a leading cinema "fan"magazine, and would unquestionably be posted upon thephotoplayers. 

Luckily, I caught her at home. 

"Bless your soul, " she told me over the phone, in delight, "I'vejust been aching for some one to take me out to-night. We'll goto the Midnight Fads and if Shirley isn't there the head waiterwill tell you all I don't remember. It was a glorious fight. "

She wouldn't say any more over the phone, but I was hugelycurious. Had there been another encounter with fists? And who hadbeen involved?

When she met me finally, at the Subway station, and when weobtained an out-of-the-way table at the Fads, she explained. Itseemed that Shirley had met Stella there a number of times andthat Gordon, at last, had got wind of it. Gordon first had comeup himself, quietly, pleading with Stella. She had been in a highhumor and had refused even to listen to him. Then he had becomeinsulting. At that Shirley knocked him down. 

The head waiter, a witness of the affair, ordered Gordon put out, but did not request Shirley or Stella to leave, because the otherman had been the aggressor without any question. After more thanan hour Gordon returned, quietly and unobtrusively, with anothergirl. From Belle's description I knew it was Marilyn Loring. Taking another table, Marilyn had stared at Shirley reproachfullywhile Gordon had glared at Stella. 

Shirley put up with this for just about so long. As Belledescribed it, his face gradually became more and more red and hecontrolled himself with increasing difficulty. Stella, seeing thecoming of the storm, tried to get him to go. He refused. Shethreatened to leave him. He paid no attention. All at once heboiled over and with great strides walked over to Gordon andmauled him all over the place. The leading man had no chancewhatever in the hands of the irate Westerner. Several waiters, attempting to intervene, were flung aside. Only when Shirleybegan to cool off were they able to eject the two men. BothStella and Marilyn had left, separately, before that. Neither ofthe men or women had been at the Fads since, or at least the headwaiter, called over by Belle, so informed us. 

Unable to obtain any other facts of interest, I returned finallyto the apartment shared by Kennedy and myself. First he listenedto my account, plainly interested. Then, when I had concluded, herose and faced me rather gravely. 

"It's getting more and more complicated, Walter, " he exclaimed. "After you left I remembered that there was one point ofinvestigation I had failed to cover--Miss Lamar's home here inthe city. I got our old friend, First-Deputy O'Connor, on thewire and learned that at the request of Mackay, from Tarrytown, they had sent a man up to the place and that just an hour or lessbefore I called they had located and were holding her coloredmaid. I hurried down to headquarters and questioned the girl. "

"Yes?" To me it sounded promising. 

"The negress didn't know a thing so far as the crime isconcerned, " Kennedy went on, "but I gained quite an insight intothe private life of the star. "

"You mean--"

"I mean I know the men who went to Miss Lamar's apartment, although beyond the fact of her receiving them I can tellnothing, for she sent the maid home at night; there were nomaid's quarters. "

"Their visits may have been perfectly innocent?"

"Of course! We can only draw conclusions. "

"Who were the various callers?"

"Jack Gordon--"

"Her fiance!"

"Merle Shirley--"

"Shirley admitted it when you questioned him. "

"Manton--"

"Everyone knows that!"

"Werner--" A side glance at me. 

I said nothing. My expression spoke for me. 

"And Emery Phelps!"

At that I did show surprise. Although Mackay had hinted atsomething of the kind, I, for one, had not considered the bankerseriously. 

"Good heavens! Kennedy, " I exploded. "She was mixed up with justabout every man connected with the company. "

"Exactly!" As usual, he seemed calm and unconcerned. 

I could regard the case only with increasing amazement--thebitter, conflicting emotions of Manton and Phelps, of Daring, Shirley, and Millard. With them all Stella had been the prettytrouble maker. 

"How do you suppose they could all remain in the same company?" Ishowed my surprise at the situation. 

Kennedy pondered a moment, then replied:

"A moment's reflection ought to give you one answer. I think, Walter, they were either under contract or they had their moneyin the company. They couldn't break. "

"I suppose so. What I wonder is, was Marilyn as jealous of Stellaas her screen character would make her in a story? She's the onlyone we don't hear much about. "

Kennedy did not seem, at least at present, to give this phase ofit anything like the weight he credited to the frenzied financialrelations the case was uncovering. 

It was true, as I learned later, that Manton was at that verymoment doing perhaps as much as anyone else ever did to discreditthe picture game in Wall Street. 

X

CHEMICAL RESEARCH

The following morning I found Kennedy up ahead of me, and I feltcertain that he had gone to the laboratory. Sure enough, I foundhim at work in the midst of the innumerable scientific deviceswhich he had gathered during years of crime detection of everysort. 

As usual, he was surrounded by a perfect litter of test tubes, beakers, reagents, microscopes, slides, and culture tubes. He hadcut out the curious spots from the towel I had discovered and wasstudying them to determine their nature. From the mass ofparaphernalia I knew he was neglecting no possibility which mightlead to the hidden truth or produce a clue to the crime. 

"Have you learned anything yet?" I asked. 

"Those brownish spots were blood, of course, " was his reply as hestopped a moment in his work. "In the blood I discovered someother substance, though I can't seem to identify it yet. It willtake time. I thought it might be a drug or poison, but it doesn'tseem to be--at least nothing one might ordinarily expect. "

"How about the other spots, not the Chinese yellow?"

"Another problem I haven't solved. I dissolved enough of them sothat I have plenty of material to study if I don't waste it. Butso far I haven't been able to identify the substance withanything I know. There's a lot more work of elimination, Walter, before we're on the road to the solution of this case. Whateverstained the towel was very unusual. As near as I can make out thespots are of some protein composition. But it's not exactly apoison, although many proteins may be extremely poisonous andextremely difficult to identify because they are of organicnature. "

I was disappointed. It seemed to me that he had madecomparatively little progress so far. 

"There's one thing, " he added. "Samples of the body fluids of thevictim have been sent down by the coroner at Tarrytown and I haveanalyzed them. While I haven't decided what it was that killedStella Lamar, I am at least convinced that it has something to dowith these towel spots. They are not exactly the same--in fact, Ishould say they were complementary, or, perhaps better, antithetical. "

"The mark wasn't made by the needle which scratched her, then?"

"That's what I thought at first, that the point used had beenwiped off on the towel. Then I decided that the spots had nothingto do with the case at all. Now I believe there is someconnection, after all. "

"I--I don't understand it, " I protested. 

"It's very baffling, " he agreed, absent-mindedly. 

"If the towel wasn't used to clean the fatal needle, " I went on, "then it may have been used before they went out instead ofafterward. "

"Exactly. As a matter of fact, if I had not been so confusedyesterday by all the details of the case, by the many peopleinvolved, I would have noticed at a glance that the blood spotson the towel could not come from some one using it to wipe theneedle. And any hypothesis that it had been used out in Tarrytownwas ridiculous, because Miss Lamar was only scratched faintly andlost no blood. If I had been a little more clever I might havebeen altogether too clever. I might possibly have thrown thetowel away, because there certainly was no logical reason forconnecting it with the crime. "

"Just when do you suppose Stella was pricked?" I asked. 

"That's a vital consideration. Just now I do not know the poisonand so cannot tell how quickly it acted. " He began to put asidehis various paraphernalia. "Suppose we go at this thing by aprocess of deduction rather than from the end of scientificanalysis. " He sat on a corner of the bench. "What do we find?" hebegan. 

"While I've been working here with the test tubes and themicroscope I've been trying to reconstruct what must havehappened, trying to trace out every action of Stella Lamar asnearly as it is possible for us to do so. I don't think we needto go back of their arrival at the house, for the present. Theyseem to have been there a long while before the taking of theparticular scene, since there were twelve other scenes precedingand since it requires time to put up the electric lights and makethe connections, as well as to set the cameras, take tests, rearrange the furniture, and all the rest of it. 

"They arrived at the house in two automobiles; with the exceptionof Phelps, who was there already, and Manton, who came in his ownlimousine. That means that Miss Lamar had company on the tripout, the principals probably riding with each other in one car. At the house they were all more or less together. There werepeople about constantly and it would seem as if there was smallopportunity for anyone to inflict the scratch which caused herdeath. I don't mean that it would have been impossible to prickher. I mean that she would have felt the jab of the point. In alllikelihood she would have cried out and glanced around. Take aneedle yourself, sometime, Walter, and try to duplicate thescratch on your own arm in such a way that you would not be awareof it. 

"So you see I'm counting upon some sort of exclamation from MissLamar. If she were inoculated with the poison with other folksabout, it is sure some one would have remembered a cry, aquestioning glance, a quick grasp of the forearm--for the nervesare very sensitive in the skin there--"

"No one did recall anything of the kind, " I interrupted. 

"It is from that fact that I hope to deduce something. Now let'sfollow her, figuratively, to her little dressing room. This was apart of the living room where the rest waited. It is not acertainty, but yet rather a sure guess, that if she had receiveda scratch behind those thin silk curtains her cry would have beenheard. What is even more plausible is that she would have hurriedout, or at least put her head out, to see who had pricked her. 

"I made a very careful examination of that little alcove with theidea that some artifice might have been used. It occurred to methat a poisoned point could have been inserted in her belongingsin some way so that she would have brought about her own death, directly. To have caught herself on a needle point in her bag, for instance, would not have impressed her to the point of makinga disturbance. She might have checked her exclamation, in thatcase, because she would be blaming herself. 

"But I found nothing in her things, nor did I discover anythingin the library. It seems to me, therefore, that we must look fora direct human agency. "

A thought struck me and I hastened to suggest it. "Could somedevice have been arranged in her clothes, Craig; something likethe poison rings of the Middle Ages, a tiny metal thing to springopen and expose its point when pressed against her in the actionof the scenes?"

"That occurred to me at the time. That's why I asked Mackay tosend all her clothes down here, every stitch and rag of them. I've gone over everything already this morning. Not only have Iexamined the various materials for stains, but I've tested eachhook and eye and button and pin. I've been very careful to coverthat possibility. "

"You think, then, she was scratched deliberately by some oneduring the taking of the scenes?"

"If you've followed my line of reasoning you will see that we aredriven to that assumption. Perhaps later I will make tests on agiven number of girls of Stella's general age and type andtemperament to show that they will cry out at the unexpectedprick of a fine needle. It's illogical to expect that a cry fromMiss Lamar, even an exclamation, would have passed unnoticedexcept during the excitement of actual picture taking. "

Another inspiration came to me, but I was almost afraid to voiceit. It seemed a daring theory. "Could death have resulted frompoison administered in some other fashion, by something she hadeaten, for instance?" I ventured. "Couldn't the scratch becoincidental?"

Kennedy shook his head. "There's the value of our chemicalanalysis and scientific tests. Her stomach contents showednothing except as they might have been affected by her weakenedcondition. From Doctor Blake's report--and he found no ordinarysymptoms, remember--and from my own observation, too, I caneasily prove in court that she was killed by the mark which wasso small that it escaped the physician altogether. "

I turned away. Once more Kennedy's reasoning seemed to be leadinginto a maze of considerations beyond me. How could the deductivemethod produce results in a case as mysterious as this?

"Having determined that Miss Lamar received the inoculationduring the making of one of the scenes, as nearly as we can doso, " Kennedy went on, "suppose we take the scenes in order, oneat a time, from the last photographed to the first, analyzingeach in turn. Remember that we seek a situation where there isnot only an opportunity to jab her with a needle, but one inwhich an outcry would be muffled or inaudible. "

I now saw that Kennedy had brought in the bound script of thestory, "The Black Terror, " and I wondered again, as I had oftenbefore, at his marvelous capacity for attention to detail. 

"'The spotlight on the floor reveals the girl sobbing over thebody of the millionaire, '" he read, aloud, musingly. "H'mm! 'Shescreams and cries out. ' Then the others rush in. "

For several moments Kennedy paced the floor of the laboratory, the manuscript open in his hands. 

"We rehearsed that, with Werner; and we questioned everyone, too. And remember! Miss Lamar, instead of crying out as she wassupposed to do, just crumpled up silently. So"--thumbing over apage--"we work back to scene twelve. She--she was not in that atall. Scene eleven--"

Slowly, carefully, Kennedy went through each scene to thebeginning. "Certainly a dramatic opening for a mystery picture, "he remarked, suddenly, as though his mind had wandered from hisproblem to other things. "We must admit that Millard can handle amoving-picture scenario most beautifully. "

Whether it was professional jealousy or the thought of Enid, rather than the memory of my own poor attempts at screen writing, I certainly was in no mood to agree with Kennedy, for all that Iknew he was correct. 

"Here!" He thrust the binder in my hands. "Read that firstscene, " he directed. "Meanwhile I am going to phone Mackay tomake sure he has had the house guarded and to make double sure noone goes near the library. We're going out to Tarrytown again, Walter, and in the biggest kind of hurry. "

"What's the idea, Craig?" Kennedy's occasional bursts ofmysteriousness, characteristic of him and often necessary whenhis theories were only half formed and too chaotic forexplanations, always piqued me. 

He did not seem to hear. Already he was at the telephone, manipulating the receiver hook impatiently. "What a dummy I am!"he exclaimed, with genuine feeling. "What--what an awful dummy!"

Knowing I would get nothing out of him just yet, I turned to thescene, reading as he told me. At first I could not see where thedetail concerned Stella Lamar in any way. Then I came to thedescription of her introductory entrance, the initial view of herin the film. The lines of typewriting suddenly stood out beforeme in all their suggestive clearness. 

 The spotlight in the hands of a shadowy figure roves across the wall and to the portieres. As it pauses there the portieres move and the fingers of a girl are seen on the edge of the silk. A bare and beautiful arm is thrust through almost to the shoulder and it begins to move the portieres aside, reaching upward to pull the curtains apart at the rings. 

"You think there's something about the portieres--" I began. 

Then I saw that Kennedy had his connection, that somethingdisturbed him, that some intelligence from the other end hadcaught him by surprise. 

"You say you were just trying to get me, Mackay? You've somethingto tell me and you want me to come right out--you have summonedPhelps and he's on his way from the city also--?"

"What happened?" I asked, as Kennedy hung up. 

"I don't know, Walter. Mackay said he didn't want to talk overthe phone and that we had just time to catch the express. "

"But--"

"Hurry!" He glanced about as if wondering whether any of hisscientific instruments would help him. 

XI

FORESTALLED

On the train Kennedy left me, to look through the other cars, having the idea that Phelps might be aboard also. But there wereno signs of the banker. We would reach Tarrytown first unless hehad chosen to motor out. 

Mackay was waiting at the station to meet us and to take us tothe house. The little district attorney was obviously excited. 

"Was the place guarded well last night?" asked Kennedy, almostbefore we had shaken hands. 

"Yes--that is, I thought it was. That's what I want to tell you. After you left with Manton and Werner the rest of the companypacked up and pulled out in the two studio cars. I was a littlein doubt what to do about Phelps, but he settled it himself byannouncing that he was going to town. The coroner came and issuedthe permit to remove the body and that was taken away. I thinkthe house and the presence of the dead girl and all the rest ofit got on Phelps's nerves, because he was irritable andimpatient, unwilling to wait for his own car, until finally Idrove him to the station myself. "

"Was anyone, any of those on our list of possible suspects atleast, alone in the room--or in the house?"

"Not while I was there, " Mackay replied. "I took good care ofthat. Then, when everyone was gone and while Phelps was waitingfor me, I detailed two of my deputies to stay on guard--oneinside and one outside--for the night. I thought it sufficientprecaution, since you had made your preliminary examination. "

"And--" Kennedy nodded, seeking to hurry the explanation. 

"And yet, " added Mackay, "some one entered the house last nightin spite of us. "

Kennedy fairly swore under his breath. He seemed to blame himselffor some omission in his investigation the previous afternoon. 

"How did it happen?" I asked, rather excitedly. 

"It was about three o'clock, the guards tell me. The man insidewas dozing in a chair before the living-room fireplace. He wasplaced so he could command a view of the doorway to the libraryas well as the stairs and reception hall. All at once he wasawakened by a shot and a cry from outside. He jumped up and rantoward the library. As he did so the portieres bellied in towardhim, as if in stiff sudden draught, or as if some one had dartedinto their folds quickly, then out. With no hesitation he drewhis own weapon, rushing the curtains. There was no one secretedabout them. Then, with the revolver in one hand, he switched onthe lights. The room was empty. But one pair of French windows atthe farther end were wide open and it was that which had causedthe current of air. He ran over and found the lock had beenforced. It was not even an artistic job of jimmying. "

"What about the deputy posted outside?" prompted Kennedy. 

"That's the strange part of it. He was alert enough, but it's abig house to watch. He swears that the first thing he knew of anytrouble was the sharp metallic click which he realized later wasthe sound made by the intruder in forcing the catch of the Frenchwindow. It was pretty loud out in the quiet of a Tarrytown night. 

"He started around from the rear and then the next thing hecaught was the outline of a shadowy slinking figure as a mandropped out of the library. He called. The intruder broke into arun, darting across the open space of lawn and crashing throughthe shrubbery without any further effort at concealment. My mancalled again and began to chase the stranger, finally firing andmissing. In the shrubbery a sharp branch whipped him under thechin just as he obtained a clear view of the outlined figure ofhis quarry and as he raised his weapon to shoot again. Therevolver was knocked from his hand and he was thrown back, falling to the ground and momentarily stunned. Whoever broke intothe library got away, of course. "

"What did the intruder look like?" There was an eagerness inKennedy's manner. I grasped that the case was beginning toclarify itself in his mind. 

Mackay shook his head. "There was no moon, you know, andeverything happened swiftly. 

"But was he tall or short or slender or stout--the deputy musthave got some vague idea of him at least. "

"It was one of my amateur deputies, " Mackay admitted, reluctantly. "He thought the man was hatless, but couldn't evenbe sure of that. "

"Were there footprints, or fingerprints--"

"No, Mr. Kennedy, we're out of luck again. When he jumped out hefell to his hands and knees in a garden bed. The foot marks wereruined because his feet slid and simply made two irregulargashes. The marks of his hands indicated to me, anyhow, that hewore heavy gloves, rubber probably. "

"Any disturbance in the library?"

"Not that I could notice. That's why I phoned you at once. I'mhoping you'll discover something. "

"Well--" Kennedy sighed. "It was a wonderful opportunity to getto the bottom of this. "

"I haven't told you all yet, Mr. Kennedy, " Mackay went on. "Therewas a second man, and--"

"A second man?" Kennedy straightened, distinctly surprised. "Iwould swear this whole thing was a one-man job. "

"They weren't together, " the district attorney explained. "That'swhy I didn't mention them both at once. But my deputy says thatwhen he was thrown by the lash of the branch he was unable tomove for a few seconds, on account of the nerve shock I suppose, and that while he was motionless, squatted in a sort of sittingposition with hands braced behind him, just as he fell, he wasaware of a second stranger concealed in the shrubbery. 

"The second fellow was watching the first, without the questionof a doubt. While the deputy slowly rose to his feet this otherchap started to follow the man who had broken into the house. Butat that moment there was the sudden sound of a self-starter in acar, then the purr of a motor and the clatter of gears. Numberone spun off in the darkness of the road as pretty as you please. Number two grunted, in plain disgust. 

"By this time my deputy had his wind. His revolver was gone, buthe jumped the second stranger with little enough hesitation andthey battled royally for several minutes in the dark. Unfortunately, it was an unequal match. The intruder apparentlywas a stocky man, built with the strength of a battleship. He gotaway also, without leaving anything behind him to serve foridentification. "

"You have no more description than of the first man?"

"Unfortunately not. Medium height, a little inclined to bestocky, strong as a longshoreman--that's all. "

"Are you sure your deputy isn't romancing?"

"Positively! He's the son of one of our best families here, asportsman and an athlete. I knew he loved a lark, or a chance foradventure, and so I impressed him and a companion as deputieswhen I met them on the street on my way up to Phelps's house justafter the tragedy. "

Kennedy lapsed into thought. Who could the self-constitutedwatcher have been? Who was interested in this case other than theproper authorities? Apparently some one knew more than Mackay, more than Kennedy. Whoever it was had made no effort tocommunicate with any of us. This was a new angle to the mystery, a mystery which became deeper as we progressed. 

At the house Kennedy first made a careful tour of the exterior, but found nothing. Mackay had doubled his guards and had sentPhelps's servants away so that there could be no interference. 

Once inside, I noticed that Kennedy seemed indisposed to makeanother minute search of the library. He went over the frame ofthe French window with his lens carefully, for fingerprints. Finding nothing, he went back directly to the portieres. 

For several moments he stood regarding them in thought. Then hebegan a most painstaking inspection of the cloth with the pocketglass, beginning at the library side. 

I remembered that first scene in the manuscript which Kennedy hadinsisted I read. I recalled the suspicion which had flashed to mebefore the message from Mackay had disturbed both Kennedy'sthoughts and mine. Stella Lamar had thrust her bare arm throughthis curtain. A needle, cleverly concealed in the folds, mighteasily have inflicted the fatal scratch. It was for a trace ofthe poison point that Kennedy searched. Of that I was sure, knowing his methods. 

I glanced up and down the heavy hanging silk, looking for theglint of fine sharp steel as Kennedy had done before starting hisinspection with the glass. The color of the silk, a beautifulheavy velour, was a strange dark tint very close to the grainedblack-brown of the woodwork. Both the thickness of the materialand its dull shade made the portieres serve ideally for thepurpose assumed now both by Kennedy and myself. A tiny needlemight remain secreted within their folds for days. Nothing, certainly, caught my naked eye. 

At last a little exclamation from Kennedy showed us that he haddiscovered something. I moved closer, as did Mackay. 

"It's lucky none of us toyed with these curtains yesterday, " heremarked, with a slight smile of gratification. "There might havebeen more than one lying where Stella Lamar lies at the presentmoment. "

With wholesome respect neither Mackay nor myself touched the silkas Kennedy pointed. There were two small holes, almostmicroscopic, in the close-woven material. About the one there wasthe slightest discoloration. Not a fraction of an inch away I sawtwo infinitesimal spots of a dark brownish-red tinge. 

"What does it mean?" I asked, although I could guess. 

"The dark spots are blood, the discoloration the poison from theneedle. "

"And the needle?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "That's where our very scientificculprit has forestalled me, Walter! The needle was in thesecurtains all day yesterday. Unfortunately, I did not study themanuscript, did not attach any importance to Miss Lamar's sceneat the portieres. "

"The man who broke in last night--"

"Removed the needle, but"--almost amused--"not the traces of it. You see, Walter, after all, the scientific detective cannot beforestalled even by the most scientific criminal. There isnothing in the world which does not leave its unmistakable markbehind, provided you can read it. The hole in the cloth serves mequite as well as the needle itself. "

Very suddenly a voice from behind us interrupted. 

"Find something?"

I turned, startled, to see Emery Phelps. There was a distincteagerness in the banker's expression. 

"Yes!" Kennedy faced him, undisturbed, apparently not surprised. His scrutiny of Phelps's face was frank and searching. "Yes, " herepeated, "bit by bit the guilty man is revealing himself to us. "

XII

EMERY PHELPS

"There--there is something the matter with the curtains?" Phelpssuggested. 

Kennedy pointed to the two holes and the spots. "Miss Lamar mether death from poison introduced into her system through a tinyscratch from a prepared needle. "

"Yes?" Phelps was calm now, and cool. I wondered if it werepretense on his part. "What have these little marks to do withthat?"

"Don't you see?" rejoined Kennedy. "If some one had come herebefore the scene in the picture was played; had thrust a smallneedle, perhaps a hollow needle from a hypodermic syringe, through the heavy thickness of this silk--thrust it in here, thepoint sticking out here--well, there would be two holes leftwhere the threads were forced apart, like this!" Kennedy took hisstickpin, demonstrating. 

"How could that cause Stella's death?" Phelps, at first quiteupset apparently by Kennedy's discovery, now was lapsing againinto his hostile mood. His question was cynical. 

"Try to recall Miss Lamar's actions, " Kennedy went on, patiently. "What was she supposed to do in the very first scene? 'Theportieres move and the fingers of a girl are seen on the edge ofthe silk. A bare and beautiful arm is thrust through almost tothe shoulder and it begins to move the portieres aside, reachingupward to pull the curtains apart at the rings. '"

"Do you mean to tell me--" Phelps's eyes were very wide as hepaused, grasping the scheme and yet disbelieving--unless it allwere a bit of fine acting--"do you mean to tell me it is possibleto calculate a thing like that? How would anyone know where herarm would be?"

"It is simpler than it sounds, Mr. Phelps. " Kennedy was suddenlyharsh. "There is only one natural movement of an arm in thatcase. The culprit was undoubtedly familiar with Miss Lamar'sheight and with her manner of working. It is a bit of actionwhich has to be repeated in both the long shot and close-upscenes. Jameson here can tell you how many times a scene isrehearsed. There probably were a dozen sure chances of the needlestriking the girl's bare flesh. You will see from the position ofthe holes that it was arranged point downward and slightly turnedin, and on a particular fold of the curtain, too; showing thatsome one placed it there only after a nice bit of calculation. Furthermore, it was high enough so that there was little chanceof anyone being pricked except the star, whose death wasintended. "

Phelps either seemed convinced, or else he felt it inadvisable toirritate Kennedy by a further pretense of skepticism. 

A point occurred to me, however. "Listen, Craig!" I spoke in alow voice. "Remember all the emphasis you placed upon the factthat she would cry out. She was not supposed to cry out in thatfirst scene. "

"No, Walter, but if you'll read the second, the close-up, you'llsee that the script actually calls for a cry. Now suppose shemakes an exclamation in the first instead. Nobody would thinkanything of it. They would assume that she had played her actiona little in advance, perhaps. 

"And then consider this, too! Miss Lamar, receiving the scratch, would cry out unquestionably. But she has been before the camerafor years and she is trained in the idea that film must not bewasted uselessly. She would not interrupt her action for a littlescratch because in these circumstances any little startledmovement would fit in with the action. By the time the scene wasover she would have forgotten the incident. It would mean verylittle to her in the preoccupation of bringing the mythicalStella Remsen into flesh-and-blood existence. The poison, however, would be putting in its deadly work. "

"Wouldn't it act before the thirteenth scene--" I began. 

"Not necessarily. As a matter of fact, an actress, in theexcitement of her work, might resist the effects for a muchlonger period than some one who realizes he is sick. Some day I'mgoing to write a book on that. I'm going to collect hundreds ofexamples of people who keep plugging along because they refuse toadmit anything's the matter with them. It's like Napoleon'scourier who didn't drop until he'd delivered his message and madehis last precise military salute. "

One other thought struck me. "The blood spots on the curtaincannot be Miss Lamar's if, as you say, the scratch brought noblood. "

"How about the nocturnal visitor who removed the needle in thedark? Can't you imagine him pricking himself beautifully in hishurry. "

"Good heavens!" I felt the chills travel up and down my spine. "There may be another fatality, then!" I exclaimed. 

Kennedy was noncommittal. "It would be too bad for justice to becheated in that fashion, " he remarked. 

Phelps meanwhile had been listening to us impatiently. Finally heturned to Mackay. 

"Was that all you called me out here for? Did you just want toshow me the pinholes in those portieres?"

"Not exactly, " Mackay replied, eyeing him sharply. "Some oneforced his way into this library last night. My guard saw him, and also saw a second man who remained out in the shrubbery andseemed to be watching the first. One shot was fired, but both mengot away. An automobile was waiting, perhaps two of them. "

"How does this concern me?" Phelps's voice rose in anger. Hestrode into the library and over to the French windows, inspecting the damage to the fine woodwork with steadily risingcolor. Then he hurried back to the side of Mackay. 

"It's up to you, District-Attorney Mackay, " he said, with a greatshow of his ill feeling. "You practically forced me out of my ownhouse. You sent my servants away. You put your own guards incharge, young, inexperienced deputies who don't know enough tocome in when it's wet. Now you have me make this trip out here inbusiness hours just to show me where a needle has been stuck in acurtain and where a pair of imported window sashes have beenruined. "

Mackay was unruffled. "It is necessary, Mr. Phelps, that you lookover this room and see that nothing else has been disturbed; thatthere is no further damage. Moreover, I thought you might beinterested, might wish to help us determine the identity of theintruder. "

"If there's any way I can really help you to do that"--sarcastically--"I'll be delighted. "

"Were you here the night before the murder?" Mackay asked. 

"You know I seldom spend the night in Tarrytown. I have quartersin New York, at the club, and recently I have been spending allmy time in New York, on account of the situation in the picturebusiness. "

"You were not here the night before the murder, then?"

"No!"

"But you were out here yesterday before the actors arrived, before Manton or any of his technical staff and crew came?"

"I was out very early, to make sure the servants had the houseready. " Phelps was red now. "Are you insinuating anything, Mackay?"

The little district attorney was demonstrating a certain qualityof dogged perseverance. "Some one put the needle in the curtainbefore the company arrived. You probably were in the house at thetime; or at the least your servants were. Whoever did was the onewho murdered Stella Lamar. "

"And also, " rejoined Phelps, tartly, "was the intruder who brokein here last night and ruined my window sash. If you had hadbetter guards you might have caught him, too!"

"Are you sure of your servants? Are they reliable--"

"I never anticipated a murder and so I didn't question them as totheir poisoning proclivities when I engaged them. But you knowwhere they are and you can examine them. If I were you, Mackay--"

"Gentlemen!" Kennedy hastened to stop the colloquy before itbecame an out-and-out quarrel. Then he faced the banker. 

"Mr. Phelps, " Kennedy's voice was soft, coaxing, "I don't thinkMr. Mackay quite understands. It would be a great service to meif you would give the house a quick general inspection. You arefamiliar with the things here, enough to state whether they havebeen disturbed to any appreciable degree. You see, we do not knowthe interior arrangements as they were before this unfortunatehappening. "

With rather ill grace Phelps stalked up the steps, acceding toKennedy's request, but disdaining to answer. 

Kennedy turned to Mackay as the banker disappeared out ofearshot. "That's just to cool him off a bit. I have everything Icame to get right here. " Producing a pair of pocket scissors, hecut the pierced and spotted bit of silk from the portieres, ruthlessly. It was necessary vandalism. 

"What was the poison, Mr. Kennedy?" Mackay asked, in a low voice. 

"I think that it was closely allied to the cyanide groups in itsrapacious activity. "

"But you haven't identified it yet?"

"No. So far I haven't the slightest idea of its true nature. Itseems to have a powerful affinity for important nerve centers ofrespiration and muscular co-ordination, as well as possessing atendency to disorganize the blood. I should say that it producesdeath by respiratory paralysis and convulsions. To my mind it isan exact, though perhaps less active, counterpart of hydrocyanicacid. But that is not what it is or I would have been able toprove it before this. "

Mackay nodded, listening in silence. 

"You'll say nothing of this?" Kennedy added. 

"I'll be silent, of course. "

Heavy footsteps from the rear marked the return of Phelps, whohad covered the upper floors, descending by the back stairs so asto have a look at the kitchen. 

"Everything seems to be all right, " he remarked, half graciously. 

Kennedy led the way to the front porch. There he seemed moreinterested in the weather than in the case, for he studied thesky intently. Glancing up, I saw that the morning was still grayand cloudy, with no promise that the sun would be able tostruggle through the overhanging moisture. 

"I don't think we'll go back to the city--that is, all the wayin, " he remarked, speaking for both of us. "I want to go to theManton studio first. This is no day for exteriors and so they'llprobably be working there. " He smiled at Phelps. "I want to seeif any of our possible suspects look as though they had beenengaging in nocturnal journeys. "

Phelps had been rubbing his eyes. He dropped his hand so quicklythat I wanted to smile; then to cover his confusion he promptlyoffered to drive us in. Mackay at the same time volunteered hiscar. 

Kennedy accepted the latter offer. As he thanked the banker Iwondered if any suspicion of that individual lurked in the backof his mind. Phelps certainly had made a very bad impression uponme with his antagonistic attitude, with his readiness totransform every question into a personal affront. 

"Just one other thing, Mr. Phelps, " exclaimed Kennedy, as we wereabout to descend to Mackay's car. "Why did you wish the scenes in'The Black Terror' actually taken in your library?"

Kennedy had asked the question before. Had he forgotten? Iglanced at the banker and read the same thought in hisexpression. 

"I--I'm proud of my library and I wanted to see it in pictures, "he replied, after some hesitation and with a little rancor. 

"Not to save money?"

"It would be no appreciable saving. "

"I see. " Kennedy was tantalizingly deliberate. "How long have youheld the controlling interest in Manton Pictures, Mr. Phelps?"

"Uh"--in surprise--"nearly a year. "

"You could have had your library photographed at any time, then, simply by stating your request as you did in this case. In thatyear there have been pictures which would have served the purposeas well as this; better, in fact, because in this picture thelibrary seems to be dark almost altogether. In other storiesthere probably were infinitely better chances for the exhibitionof the room. Why did you wait for 'The Black Terror'?"

As a clear understanding of Kennedy's question and all itentailed filtered into the mind of Phelps he became so red andflushed with anger that I felt sure he was going to explode onthe spot. 

"Because I didn't think of it before, " he sputtered. 

"You said the situation in the picture business made it necessaryfor you to stay in town. Is there any trouble between Manton andyourself?"

"Not a bit!"

"Was Stella Lamar making any trouble, of a business nature, suchas threatening to quit Manton Pictures?"

"No!" Phelps' eyes now were narrowed to slits. 

"Are you sure?"

With a great effort Phelps achieved a degree of self-control. Heforced a smile. His remark, presumed to be a pleasantry, I knewmasked the true state of his feelings. 

"As sure, Mr. Kennedy, " he rejoined, awed by Kennedy's reputationeven in the full flood of his anger, "as sure as I am that I'dlike to throw you down these steps!"

XIII

MARILYN LORING

The magic of Manton's name admitted us to the studio courtyard, and at once I was struck by the change since the day before. Nowthe tank was a dry, empty, shallow depression of concrete. Thescenery, all the paraphernalia assembled for the taking of waterstuff, was gone. Except for the parked automobiles in one cornerand a few loitering figures here and there the big quadrangleseemed absolutely deserted. 

In the general reception room Kennedy asked for Millard, but wastold he had not been out since the previous day. That was to beexpected. But Manton, it developed, was away also. He hadtelephoned in that he would be detained until late afternoon onimportant business. I know that I, for one, wondered if it wereconnected with Fortune Features. 

"It's just as well, " Kennedy remarked, after convincing the boyat the desk it was Manton's wish that we have the run of theplace. "My real object in coming was to watch the cast at work. "

We found our way to the small studio, called so in comparisonwith the larger one where the huge ballroom and banquet sets werebeing built. In reality it possessed a tremendous floor space. Now all the other companies had been forced to make room for "TheBlack Terror" on account of the emergency created by the death ofStella Lamar, and there were any number of sets put up hastilyfor the retakes of the scenes in which Stella had appeared. Theeffect of the whole upon a strange beholder was weird. It was asthough a cyclone had swept through a town and had gathered up anddeposited slices and corners and sections of rooms and hallwaysand upper chambers, each complete with furniture and ornaments, curtains, rugs, and hangings. Except for the artistic harmony ofthings within the narrow lines of the camera's view, nothing inthis great armory-like place had any apparent relation toanything else. Some of the sets were lighted, with actors andtechnical crews at work. Others were dark, standing ready foruse. Still others were in varying states of construction ordemolition. Rising above every other impression was the noise. Itwas pandemonium. 

We saw Werner at work in a distant corner and strolled over. Thedirector was bustling about feverishly. I do not doubt that thegrim necessity of preparing the picture for a release date whichwas already announced had resulted in this haste, without even aday of idleness in respect for the memory of the dead star, yetit seemed cold-blooded and mercenary to me. I thought thatsuccess was not deserved by an enterprise so callous of humanlife, so unappreciative of human effort. 

Most of the cast were standing about, waiting. The scenes werebeing taken in a small room, fitted as an office or private den, but furnished luxuriously. Later I learned it was in the home ofthe millionaire, Remsen, close off the library for which theactual room in Phelps's home was photographed. 

Shirley and Gordon, I noticed, kept as far apart as possible. Itwas quite intentional and I again caught belligerent glancesbetween them. On the other hand, both Enid and Marilyn Loringwere calm and self-possessed. Yet between these two I caught acoolness, a sort of armed truce, in which each felt it would be asign of weakness to admit consciously even the near presence ofthe other. 

Werner was irascible, swearing roundly at the slightestprovocation, raging up and down at every little error. 

"Come now, " he shouted, as we approached, "let's get this scenenow--number one twenty-six. Loring--Gordon! Shake a leg--here, I'll read it again. 'Daring enters. He is scarcely seated at thedesk, examining papers, when Zelda enters in a filmy negligee. Daring looks up amazed and Zelda pretends great agitation. Daringis not unkind to her. He tells her he has not discovered the willas yet. Spoken title: "I am sure that I can find a will and thatyou are provided for. " Continuing scene, Daring speaks the above. Zelda thanks him and undulates toward the door with the well-known swaying walk of the vampire. Daring turns to his papers anddoes not watch her further. She looks over her shoulder, thenexits, registering that she will get him yet. '" Werner droppedhis copy of the script. "Understand?" he barked. "Make it fastnow. We shouldn't do this over, but you were lousy before, bothof you!" Gordon extinguished a cigarette and entered the set witha scowl. Marilyn rose and slipped out of a dressing gown spottedwith make-up and dark from its long service in the studios. Underneath the wrapper the finest of silken draperies clung toher, infinitely more intimate here in actuality and in the brightstudio lights than it would be upon the screen. I noticed theslim trimness of her figure--could not help myself, in fact. AndI saw also that she shrank back just the least little bit beforestepping to her place at the door. It was modesty, a genuinegirlish diffidence. In a moment I revised my conception of her. Before, I had not been able to decide whether Marilyn Loring wasa woman with a gift for looking young, or a flapper with thebaffling sophistication affected these days by so many of them. Now I knew somehow that she was just all girl, probably in herearly twenties. The brief instant of shyness had betrayed her. 

In the scene she changed. Marilyn Loring was an actress. Themoment she caught the click of the camera's turn there was ahardness about her mouth, a faint dishonest touch to the play ofher eye, a shameless boldness to her movements concealed withoutconcealment. In the flash of a second she was Marilyn no longer, but Zelda, the ward of old Remsen, an unscrupulous and willingally of the "Black Terror. "

Werner damned the amount of footage used in the scene, thenturned to the next, with Enid and Gordon, in the same set, one ofthe necessary retakes for which the room had been put up again. 

Enid had not noticed me and I somehow failed to shake off thefeeling of fear that the glance of Millard had given me. Faintheart I was, and the answer was that I had yet to win the fairlady. To excuse myself I pretended she was different under thelights. It was really true that, as Zelda Remsen, Enid was notthe fascinating creature I had met in Werner's office. There wastoo much Mascaro on her lashes, too great an amount of red andblue and even bright yellow in her make-up. In striking contrastwas the little coloring used by Stella Lamar, or even MarilynLoring. 

Enid's scene was a close-up in which the beginning of the loveinterest in the story was shown. I noticed that as the camerasturned upon the action the girl inch by inch shifted herposition, almost imperceptibly, until she was practically facingthe lens. The consequence was that Gordon, playing the lover, wasforced to move also in order to follow her face, and so wasbrought with his back toward the camera. It was the pleasantlittle film trick known as "taking the picture away" from afellow actor. Enid was a "lens hog. "

The moment the scene was over Gordon rushed to Werner to protest. The director, irritated and in a hurry, gave him smallsatisfaction. Both players were called back under the lights forthe next "take. " As Werner's back was turned Enid favored Gordonwith a mischievous, malicious glance. The leading man possessedvery few friends, from what I had heard. The new star evidentlydid not propose to become one of them. 

"Let's pay our respects, socially, " suggested Kennedy, at myelbow. 

I followed his glance and saw that Marilyn was seated alone, awayfrom the others, apparently forlorn. As we approached she drewher dressing robe about her, smiling. With the smile her facelighted. It was in the rare moments, just as her smile broke andspread, that she was pretty, strikingly so. 

"Professor Kennedy, " she exclaimed. "And Mr. Jameson, too! Sitdown and watch our new star. "

"What do you think of her?" Kennedy asked. 

"Enid?" Marilyn's expression became quizzical. "I think she's aclever girl. "

"You mean something by that, don't you?" prompted Kennedy. 

She sobered. "No! Honestly!" For an instant she studied him witha directness of gaze which I would have found disconcerting. "Don't tell me"--she teased, again allowing the flash of a smileto illuminate her features--"don't tell me the renowned andcelebrated Professor Kennedy suspects Enid Faye of murdering poorStella to get her position. "

Kennedy laughed, turning to me. "There's the woman, " he remarked. "We may deduce and analyze and catalogue all the facts ofscience, but"--he spread his palms wide, expressly--"it is asnothing against a woman's intuition. " Facing Marilyn again, hebecame frank. "You caught my thought exactly, although it was notas bad as all that. I simply wondered if Miss Faye might not havehad something to do with the case. "

"Why?" I realized now that this Miss Loring, in addition toconsiderable skill as an actress, in addition to rare beauty onthe screen, possessed a brain and the power to use it. Shefollowed Kennedy with greater ease than I, who knew him. 

"Why?" she repeated. 

"Perhaps it's the intuition of the male, " he began, hesitatingly. 

She shook her head. "A man's intuition is not dependable. Yousee, a woman gets her intuition first and fits her facts to it, while a man takes a fact and then has an intuitive burst ofinspiration as a result. The woman puts her facts last and so isnot thrown out when they're wrong, as they usually are. But theman--I think, Professor Kennedy, that you have some facts aboutEnid stored away and that that's why you put a double meaning inmy remark. Am I right?"

He smiled. "I surrender, Miss Loring. You are right. "

"What is the little fact? Perhaps I can help you. "

"Miss Faye and Lawrence Millard seem to be old friends. "

"Oh! Maybe you wonder at the contents of the sealed testimony inthe case of Millard VS. Millard?"

Kennedy nodded. 

"Do you want to know what I think?" she asked. 

"Please. "

"Well, I've worked with Stella nearly a year. It's my opinion shedivorced Millard because he asked her to do so. "

"No, no!" I balked at that, interrupting. "He could have obtainedthe divorce himself if he had wanted it. Stella Lamar and Manton--"

"That's talk!" she rejoined, with a show of feeling. "That's thething I hate about pictures. It's always talk, talk, talk! I'mnot saying Stella and old Papa Lloyd, as we used to call him, never were mixed up with each other, but it's one thing to repeata bit of gossip and quite another thing to prove it. I'm not oneto help give currency to any rumor of immoral relationship untilI'm pretty dog-gone sure it's true. "

"You think Miss Lamar wasn't as bad as painted?" asked Kennedy. 

"I'm sure of it, Mr. Kennedy. I've known Stella and I've knownothers of her type. Fundamentally they're the kindest, truest, biggest-hearted people on earth. When Stella and I shared adressing room I often caught her giving away this or that--frequently things she needed herself. I've known her to drawagainst her salary to lend money to some actor or actress whomshe well knew would never repay her. Stella's biggest fault wasan overbalancing quality of sympathy. If she ever did get mixedup with anyone you may bet it was because that person played uponher feelings. "

"Have you any theory as to who killed her?" It was a directquestion. 

"No!" The answer was quick, but then an amazing thing happened. Marilyn suddenly colored, a flush which gathered up around hereyes above the make-up and made me think of a country girl. Shestarted to say something else and then bit her tongue. Herconfusion was surprising, due, probably, to the unexpectedness ofKennedy's query. 

Kennedy seemed to wish to spare her. Undoubtedly her promptnegative had been the truth. Some afterthought had robbed her ofher self-control. "Tell me why you said Miss Faye was a clevergirl, " he directed. 

"Just because she puts her ambition above everything else andworks hard and honestly and sincerely, and will get there. That'swhat people call being clever. "

"I see. "

Werner's voice, roaring through a megaphone, announced aninterval for lunch. Marilyn rose, laughing now, but still in ahigh color, conscious perhaps that she had revealed some strongundercurrent of feeling. 

"If you'll escort me to my dressing room, " she said, coaxingly, "and wait until I slip into a skirt and waist, I'll initiate bothof you to McCann's across the street. We all eat there, players, stage hands, chauffeurs--all but the stars, who have machines totake them elsewhere. "

Kennedy glanced at me. "Delighted!" said I. 

"We haven't much time, " she went on, leading the way. "Werner'son a rampage to-day. "

"He isn't usually that way?"

"It's Stella's death, I guess. " She opened one of the steel firedoors. "He's always that way, though, when he's been out thenight before. "

I flashed a look at Kennedy. Could Werner have been at Tarrytown?

In the long hallway of dressing rooms Marilyn stopped, graspingthe knob of her door. "It'll only take me--" she began. 

Then her face went white as the concrete of the floor, and thatwas immaculate. An expression which might have been fear, orhorror, or hate--or all three, spread over her features, transforming her. 

Following the direction of her stare, I saw Shirley down thehall, just as he stopped at his own door. He caught her glancesuddenly, and his own face went red. I thought that his handstrembled. 

Marilyn wheeled about, lips pressed tightly together. Throwingopen the door, she dashed into her room, slamming it with a bangwhich echoed and re-echoed up and down the little hall. She hadforgotten our presence altogether. 

XIV

ANOTHER CLUE

Kennedy looked at me quizzically. "I guess we'd better not waitfor Miss Loring to initiate us to McCann's, " he remarked. 

We found our way to the courtyard, and were headed for the gatewhen a young man in chauffeur's cap and uniform intercepted us. Ihad noticed him start forward from one of the cars parked in theinclosure, but did not recognize him. 

"May I speak to you a moment, Professor Kennedy--alone?"

"Mr. Jameson here is associated with me, is assisting me in thiscase, if it is something concerning the death of Miss Lamar. "

"It is, sir. I saw you out at Tarrytown yesterday. McGroarty ismy name and I drove one of the cars the company went in. Theywere pointing you out to me, and I'd read about you, and just nowI says to myself there's something I ought to tell you. "

"That's right. " Kennedy lighted a cigar, offering one to thechauffeur. "I'm not supernatural and often I'm able to solve amystery only with the help of all those who, like myself, wantjustice done. "

"Yes, sir! That's my way of looking at it. Well"--McGroarty blewa cloud of smoke, appreciatively--"I do a good bit of driving forthese people, and this morning it was cloudy and dull, no goodfor exteriors, but yet sort of so it might clear at any moment, and so I was ordered. I brought my car and left it standing herein the yard while I went over to McCann's--the lunch room, youknow--for a cup of coffee. When I came back"--again the cigar--"there still was nothing doing, and so I thought--you know how itis--I thought I'd clean up the back of the old boat, to killtime, not saying it wasn't needed. So I took out the cocoa mat tobeat it and what do I find on the floor--between the mat and therear seat it was, I guess--but this. "

He handed Kennedy some small object which glinted in the light. Looking closely, I saw that it was a peculiarly shaped littleglass tube. 

"An ampulla, " Kennedy explained. "It's the technical name thedoctors have for such a container. "

"It must have been between the mat and the rear seat, " thechauffeur repeated. Then he discovered that his cigar was out. Hestruck a match. 

Kennedy turned the bit of glass over and over in his hand, examining it carefully. I felt rather fearful, wondering if itmight not contain some trace of the deadly poison which had soquickly killed Stella Lamar. I even half expected to see Kennedyfind some infinitesimal jagged edge or point which could haveinflicted the fatal scratch. Then I realized that McGroarty hadhandled the thing with impunity, perhaps had carried it abouthalf a day. 

Kennedy took his scarf pin. On the outside of the little tubethere was no trace of a label or marking of any sort. All about, on the inside, however, the glass was spotted with dried light-yellow incrustations, resembling crystals and at first apt toescape even the sharpest scrutiny. With the pin Kennedy scaledoff one of these and put it under his pocket lens. But he came tono conclusion. Rather puzzled and nettled, he dropped the tinybit of substance back into the tube, then replaced his pin in hisscarf, and stowed this latest bit of possible evidence in hispocket carefully. 

"How do you suppose it got in the car?" he asked. 

"Some one must have dropped it and it must have rolled in thatspace by the edge of the mat, " replied the chauffeur. "There wasjust room for it, too! I never would have noticed it withouttaking up the mat. "

"It couldn't be broken, by being trampled on?"

"Nope! Not a chance!"

"How long could it have been there?"

"Two or three or four days--since I cleaned up last. "

I remembered the cleverness shown by the guilty person in placingthe needle in the curtain. It seemed unlikely that this could bean accident. "Isn't it possible, " I suggested, "that this is aplant; that the tube was put there deliberately, to throw us offthe track?"

"It's quite likely, " he admitted. "On the other hand, Walter, thevery smartest criminal will do some foolish little thing, enoughto ruin the most careful plans and preparations. " He turned toMcGroarty. "Who rode in your car yesterday?"

"Mine's the principals' car, " boasted McGroarty. "Going out I hadMiss Lamar, Miss Loring, Mr. Gordon, Mr. Shirley, and Mr. Werner. Coming back Mr. Werner was with you, and Miss Lamar--well, therewas only Miss Loring and Mr. Gordon and Mr. Shirley. "

"Did you notice how they acted?"

"They never says a word to each other on all the trip back, but Ididn't think it strange after what happened, although usuallythey're always joking and laughing. "

"You brought the three to the studio here?"

"Yes. They had to get out of make-up. "

"Did you leave the car then?"

"No, I hit it right for the garage. "

"Were you away from the car at Tarrytown?"

"Sure! That was a long wait. Peters, Manton's chauffeur, and Ifound a couple of horseshoes and we were throwing them most ofthe time. "

"How long was the machine alone here in the yard this morning?"

"A couple of hours, maybe. I knew the old boiler was safe enough, and that if they wanted me they'd look over in McCann's. "

"Well, " Kennedy extended his hand, "I thank you, and I won'tforget you, McGroarty. "

As soon as the chauffeur was out of earshot I faced Kennedyrather eagerly, to forestall him if he had arrived at the sameconclusion as myself. 

"See! It's just as I thought yesterday!"

"How's that, Walter?"

"Werner! He rode out in that machine, but not back. In Manton'scar he was worried all the time. He probably knew he had droppedthe tube. Then he hurried up ahead of us and wiped the needle--"I stopped, lamely. 

Kennedy smiled. "See, you're jumping at conclusions too fast. Youremember now that we decided that the towel has nothing directlyto do with the poison. In a way you cannot assume that thisampulla has, either, although I myself feel sure on that point. But in any case no one is eliminated. It is true Werner did notreturn in the same automobile. It is also true that he had littleopportunity to drop it while others were in the car with him. When McGroarty was away from the car anyone could have lost it, or--as you suggested a moment ago--planted it there deliberatelyto divert suspicion. "

I felt the beginnings of a headache from all these confusedthreads of the mystery. "Can't--Isn't there anyone we can say isinnocent, at least, even if we cannot begin to fasten the guiltupon somebody?" I pleaded. 

Kennedy shook his head. "At this stage the one is as hard as theother. I consider myself lucky to have collected as much materialas I have for the analysis of the poison. " He tapped his pocketsignificantly. 

"Yoo-hoo!" A frankly shrill call in a feminine voice interrupted. We both turned, to see Marilyn Loring hastening toward us. 

"Did you think I was going to forget you?" she asked, almostreproachfully and much out of breath. "Let's hurry, " she added. "This is roast beef day. "

We started toward the gate once more, Marilyn between us, vivacious and rather charming. I noticed that she made noreference to the incident in the hallway, the precipitate mannerin which she left us and the very evident confusion of MerleShirley. Kennedy, too, seemed disposed to drop the matter, although it was obviously significant. For some reason his mindwas elsewhere, so that the girl was thrown upon my hands. 

It struck me that, after all, she was attractive. At this momentI found her distinctly good-looking. 

"Why do you 'vamp'?" I asked, innocently. "You don't seem to me, if you'll pardon the personal remark, at all that type. "

She laughed. "It's all the fault of the public. They insist thatI vamp. I want to play girly-girly parts, but the public won'tstand for it; they won't come to see the picture. They tell theexhibitor, and he tells the producer, and back I am at thevamping again. Isn't it funny?" She paused a moment. "TakeGordon. Doesn't it make you laugh, what the public think he is--clean-cut, hero, and all that sort of thing? Little do theyknow!"

All at once Kennedy stopped abruptly. We were close to theentrance, just where a smart little speedster of light blue linedwith white was parked at the edge of the narrow sidewalk. Thesun, after a morning of uncertainty, had just struck through thehaze, and it illuminated Marilyn's face and hair mostdelightfully as we both turned, somewhat in surprise. 

"I know you'll never forgive me, Miss Loring, " Kennedy began, "but the fact is that just before you came out we stumbled into anew bit of evidence in the case and I believe that Jameson and Iwill have to hurry in to the laboratory. Much as I would like tolunch with you, and perhaps chat some more during scene-takingthis afternoon--"

It seemed to me that her eyes widened a bit. Certainly there wasa perceptible change in her face. It was interest, but it wasalso certainly more than that. I felt that she would have likedto penetrate the mask of Kennedy's expression, perhaps learn justwhat facts and theories rested in his mind. 

"Is it--" Suddenly she smiled, realizing that Kennedy wouldreveal only the little which suited his purpose. "Is it somethingyou can tell me?" she finished. 

He shook his head. His answer was tantalizing, his glancesearching and without concealment. "Only another detailconcerning the chemical analysis of the poison. "

"I see!" If she knew of the ampulla the answer would have beenintelligible to her. As it was, her face betrayed nothing. "Iguess I'll hurry on over alone, then, " she added. She extended ahand to each of us. Her grasp was warm and friendly and frank. "So long, and--and good luck, for Stella's sake!"

"Hello, folks!"

The dancing bantering voice from behind us, with silvery cadenceto its laughter, could belong to no one but Enid Faye. I graspedthat it was her car which Kennedy leaned upon. I gasped a bit asI saw her directly at my side, her dainty chamois motoring coatbrushing my sleeve, the sun which grew in strength every momentcasting mottled shadows upon her face through the transparentbrim of her bobbing hat, in mocking answer to the mirth in hereyes. 

For an instant she gazed after the retreating Marilyn. 

"Good-by, Marilyn! DEAR, " she called, mega-phoning her hands. 

The other girl made no response. Laughing, Enid slipped a handunder my arm, the firm pressure of her fingers thrilling me. Sheaddressed Kennedy, however. 

"Do you want a ride in to the city, both of you?"

Kennedy brightened. "That would be fine! How far are you going?"

"The Burrage. I have a luncheon engagement. That's Forty-fourth. "

"Can you drop us off at the university?"

"Surely! Climb in. It's a tight fit, three in the seat, but fun. And"--facing me--"I want Jamie between us, next to me!"

As we rolled out of the studio inclosure she leaned forward onthe wheel to question Kennedy. 

"What did Marilyn Loring want? You seemed in deep confab!"

"She volunteered to initiate us to McCann's, across the street. "

"Oh!" She skidded about a corner skillfully. "And--"

"Well, we bumped into an additional piece of evidence and Ithought Jameson and I ought to hurry in to my laboratoryinstead. "

"I bet"--Enid giggled, readjusting her hat in the breeze--"I betshe wanted to know what you'd found, right away. Didn't she?"

"Yes!" Kennedy's face was noncommittal, "Why do you say that?"

"Because she came into my room, just as we were getting ready forwork this morning. Perhaps I'm wrong, but from the way she keptasking me questions about everyone from Manton down I got theidea she was quizzing me, to see how much I knew. Of course thisis only my first day, but it seems to me that Marilyn is talkinga great deal, without saying very much. I've come to theconclusion she knows a good deal more than she is telling anyone, and that she'd like to find out just how much everyone elseknows. "

Kennedy nodded almost absent-mindedly, without respondingfurther. 

"Well"--Enid speeded up a bit--"not to change connections on theswitchboard, I think I'm going to like it with Manton Pictures. "

"Will they do justice to your work, " Kennedy inquired, "puttingyou in a partially finished picture in this way?"

"That's where I'm in luck, real bang-up luck. Werner has directedme before and knows just exactly how to handle me. "

"What about the story? That was built for Stella, wasn't it?"

"Yes, but they're changing it here and there to fit me. Larryknows my work, too! That's luck again for little Enid. "

"How long have you known Millard?" In a flash I realizedKennedy's cleverness. This was the fact he had wished to unearth. The question was as natural as could be. He had led up to itdeliberately. I was sure of that. 

"Four, nearly five years, " she replied, unsuspiciously. Thensuddenly she bit her lip, although her expression was wellmasked. "That is, " she added, somewhat lamely--"that is, in acasual way, like nearly everyone knows nearly everyone else inthe film game. "

"Oh!" murmured Kennedy, lapsing into silence. 

XV

I BECOME A DETECTIVE

Important as it was to watch Enid and Marilyn, Werner and therest, Kennedy decided that it was now much more important to holdto his expressed purpose of returning to the laboratory with ourtrophies of the day's crime hunt. 

"For people to whom emotion ought to be an old story in theireveryday stage life, I must say they feel and show plenty of itin real life, " I remarked, as Enid set us down and drove off. "Itdoes not seem to pall. "

"I don't know why the movie people buy stories, " remarked Craig, quaintly. "They don't need to do it--they live them. "

When we were settled in the laboratory once more Kennedy plungedwith renewed vigor into the investigation he had dropped in themorning in order to make the hurried trip to the Phelps home inTarrytown. 

I had hoped he would talk further of the probabilities of theconnection of the various people with the crime, but he had nocomment even upon the admission of Enid that she had knownMillard for a period long antedating the trouble with StellaLamar. 

It seemed that, after all, he was quite excited at the discoveryof the ampulla and was anxious to begin the analysis of itsscale-like contents. I was not sure, but it struck me that thismight be the same substance which had spotted the towel or theportieres. If that were so, the finding of it in this form hadgiven him a new and tangible clue to its nature, accounting forhis eagerness. 

I watched his elaborate and thorough preparations, wishing Icould be of assistance, but knowing the limitations of my ownchemical and bacteriological knowledge. I grasped, however, thathe was concentrating his study upon the spots he had cut from theportieres, in particular the stain where the point of the needlehad been, and upon the incrustations on the inner surface of thetube. He made solutions of both of these and for some little timeexperimented with chemical reactions. Then he had recourse toseveral weighty technical books. Though bursting with curiosity, I dared not question him, nor distract him in any way. 

Finally he turned to a cage where he kept on hand, always, a fewof those useful martyrs to science, guinea pigs. Taking one ofthe little animals and segregating him from the others, heprepared to inoculate him with a tiny bit of the solution madefrom the stain on the piece cut from the portiere. 

At that I knew it would be a long and tiresome analysis. Itseemed a waste of time to wait idly for Kennedy to reach hisconclusions, so I cast about in my mind for some sort of inquiryof my own which I could conduct meanwhile, perhaps collectingadditional facts about those we were watching at the studio. 

Somehow I could not wholly lose my suspicions of the director, Werner; especially now as I marshaled the evidence against him. First of all he was the only person absolutely in control of themovements of Stella Lamar. If she did not bring up her armagainst the curtains in a manner calculated to press the needleagainst her flesh it certainly would not seem out of the way forhim to ask her to do it over again, or even for him to directchanges in her position. This he could do either in rehearsal orin retakes after the scene had actually been photographed. It wasnot proof, I knew. Practically all of them were familiar with theaction of the scene, could guess how Werner would handle it. Thepoint was that the director, next to Millard, was the mostthoroughly conversant with the scenes in the script, had tofigure out everything down to the very location and angles of thecamera. 

Another matter, of course, was the placing of the needle in thesilk. For that purpose some one had to go to Tarrytown ahead ofthe others, or at least had to precede the others into the livingroom. Offhand I was compelled to admit that this was easiest forPhelps--Phelps, the man who had insisted that the scene be takenin his library. At the same time, I knew it was quite possiblefor the director to have entered ahead of anyone else, possiblefor him to have issued orders to his people which would keep themout of the way for the brief moment he needed. 

A third consideration was the finding of the ampulla inMcGroarty's car. Stella, Marilyn, Jack Gordon, Merle Shirley, andWerner had ridden out together. Werner had not returned. Whilethis fact did not indicate definitely that he might have droppedit, coupled with the other considerations it pointed thesuspicion of guilt at the director. 

Then there was the finding of the towel in the washroom of theoffice building at the studio. While Kennedy now said it was notused to wipe the needle, while we now knew that the needleremained in the portieres from the morning of Stella's deathuntil late that night, yet Kennedy affirmed the connection of thetowel with the crime in some subtle way. It was true that membersof the cast sometimes used the washroom, yet it was evident thatManton, Millard, and Werner, who had rooms on the floor, were themore apt to be concerned in the attempt to dispose of it. AgainstManton I could see no real grounds for suspicion. In a generalway we had been compelled to eliminate Millard early in ourinvestigation. Again I was brought, in this analysis of themystery, to Werner. 

One other point remained--the identity of the nocturnal visitorto Tarrytown. In connection with that I remembered the remark ofMarilyn. Werner was acting as he always acted when he was outlate the night before, she had said. While my theories offered noexplanation of the second man, the watcher, I saw--with an innerfeeling of triumph--that everything again pointed to thedirector. 

I determined not to tell my conclusion to Kennedy, yet. I did notwant to distract him. Besides, I felt he would disagree. 

"What do you think of this, Craig?" I suggested. "Suppose I startout while you're busy and try to dig up some more facts aboutthese people?"

"Excellent!" was his reply. "I can't say how much longer myanalysis will keep me. By all means do so, Walter. I shall behere, or, if not, I'll leave a note so you can find me. "

Accordingly, I took up my search, determined to go slowly andcarefully, not to be misled by any promising but fallaciousclues. I knew that Werner would be working at the studio, fromall we had heard in the morning. I determined upon a visit to hisapartment in his absence. 

From the telephone book I discovered that he lived at theWhistler Studios, not far from Central Park on the middle WestSide--a new building, I remembered, inhabited almost entirely byartists and writers. As I hurried down on the Subway, then turnedand walked east toward the Park, I racked my brain for an excuseto get in. Entering the lower reception hall, I learned from theboy that the director had a suite on the top floor, high enoughto look over the roofs of the adjoining buildings directly intothe wide expanse of green and road, of pond and trees beyond. 

"Mr. Werner isn't in, though, " the boy added, doubtfully, withoutringing the apartment. 

"I know it, " I rejoined, hastily. "I told him I'd meet him herethis afternoon, however. " On a chance I went on, with a knowingsmile, "I guess it was pretty late when he came in last night?"

"I'll say so, " grinned the youth, friendly all of a sudden. Hehad interpreted the remark as I intended he should. He believedthat Werner and I had been out together. "I remember, " hevolunteered, "because I had to do an extra shift of duty lastnight, worse luck. It must have been after four o'clock. I wasalmost asleep when I heard the taxi at the door. "

"I wonder what company he got the taxi from?" I remarked, casually. "I tried to get one uptown--" I paused. I didn't wantto get into a maze of falsehood from which I would be unable toextricate myself. 

"I don't know, " he replied. "It looked like one of the Maroontaxis, from up at the Central Park Hotel on the next block, butI'm not sure. "

"I think I won't go upstairs yet, " I said, finally. "There'sanother call I ought to make. If Mr. Werner comes in, tell himI'll be back. "

I knew very well that Werner would not return, but I thought thatthe bluff might pave the way for getting upstairs and into theapartment a little later. Meanwhile I had another errand. The boynodded a good-by as I passed out through the grilled iron doorsto the street. Less than five minutes afterward I was at thebooth of the Maroon Taxi Company, at the side of the mainentrance of the Central Park Hotel. 

Here the starter proved to be a loquacious individual, and Icaught him, fortunately, in the slowest part of the afternoon. Removing a pipe and pushing a battered cap to the back of a baldhead, he pulled out the sheets of the previous day. Before mewere recorded all the calls for taxicab service, with the namesof drivers, addresses of calls, and destinations. Although thequarters in the booth were cramped and close and made villainousby the reek of the man's pipe, I began to scan the lists eagerly. 

It had been a busy night even down to the small hours of themorning and I had quite a job. As I came nearer and nearer to theend my hopes ebbed, however. When I was through I had failed toidentify a single call that might have been Werner's. Severalfares had been driven to and from the Grand Central Station, probably the means by which he made the trip to Tarrytown. Ineach case the record had shown the Central Park Hotel in theother column, not the Whistler Studios. I was forced to give upthis clue, and it hurt. I was not built for a detective, I guess, for I almost quit then and there, prepared to return to thelaboratory and Kennedy. 

But I remembered my first intention and made my way back to theWhistler Studios. Anyhow, I reflected, Werner would hardly havesummoned a car from a place so near his home had he wished tokeep his trip a secret. It was more important for me to gainaccess to his quarters. There it was quite possible I might findsomething valuable. I wondered if I would be justified inbreaking in, or if I would succeed if I attempted it. 

Things proved easier than I expected. My first visitunquestionably had prepared the way. The hallboy took me up inthe elevator himself without telephoning, took me to Werner'sdoor, rang the bell, and spoke to the colored valet who openedit. As I grasped the presence of the servant in the little suiteI was glad I had not tried my hand at forcing an entrance. I hadquite anticipated an empty apartment. 

The darky, pleasant voiced, polite, and well trained, bowed meinto a little den and proceeded to lay out a large box ofcigarettes on the table beside me, as well as a humidor wellfilled with cigars of good quality. I took one of the latter, accepting a light and glancing about. 

Certainly this was in contrast with Manton's apartment. There wasnothing garish, ornate, or spectacular here. Richly, lavishlyfurnished, everything was in perfect taste, revealing the hand ofan artist. It might have been a bit bizarre, reflecting thenervous temperament of its owner. Even the servant showed thetouch of his master, hovering about to make sure I wascomfortable, even to bringing a stack of the latest magazines. Ihope he didn't sense my thoughts, for I cursed him inwardly. Iwanted to be alone. Ordinarily I would have enjoyed this, but nowI had become a detective, and it was necessary to rummage about, and quickly. 

The sudden ringing of the telephone took the valet out into thetiny hall of the suite and gave me the opportunity I wished. 

Phelps apparently was calling up to leave some message forWerner, which I could not get, as the valet took it. What, Iwondered, was Phelps telephoning here for? Why not at the studio?It looked strange. 

I lost no time in speculation over that, however. The moment Iwas left to myself I jumped up and rushed to a writing desk, acarved antique which had caught my eye upon my entrance, which Ihad studied from my place in the easy chair. It was unlocked, andI opened it without compunction. With an alert ear, to warn methe moment the colored boy hung up, I first gazed ratherhelplessly at a huge pile of literary litter. Clearly there wasno time to go through all of that. 

I gave the papers a cursory inspection, without disturbing them, hoping to catch some name or something which might prove to be arandom clue, but I was less lucky than Kennedy had been in hiscasual look at Manton's desk the afternoon before. Still able tohear the valet at the telephone, I reached down and opened thetop drawer of the desk. Here perhaps I might be more fortunate. One glance and my heart gave a startled leap. 

There in a compartment of the drawer I saw a hypodermic needle--in fact, two of them--and a bottle. On the desk was a fountainpen ink dropper, a new one which had never been used. I reachedover, pressed its little bulb, uncorked the bottle, inserted theglass point, sucked up some of the contents, placed the bulbright side up in my waistcoat pocket, and recorked the bottle. Next I took and pocketed one of the two needles, both of whichwere alike as far as I could see. 

Then I heard a good-by in the hall. I closed drawer and deskhastily. As I caught the click of the receiver of the telephoneon its hook I was halfway across the floor. Before the coloredboy could enter again I was back in my chair, my head literallyin a whirl. 

What a stroke of good fortune! I had no expectation of provingWerner to be the guilty man by so simple a method as this, however. If he were the slayer of the star he would be too cleverto leave anything so incriminating about. I have always quarreledwith Poe's theory in The Purloined Letter, believing that theobvious is no place to hide anything outside of fiction. What Iconceived, rather, was that Werner really was a dope fiend. Thenature of the drug Kennedy would tell me very easily, from thesample. Establishing Werner's possession of the needles wasanother point in my chain of presumptions, showing that he wasfamiliar with their use; and added to that was the psychologicaleffect upon him of the habit, a habit responsible in many othercases for murders as skillfully carried out as that of StellaLamar, often, too, without the slightest shred of real motive. 

I recalled Werner's habitually nervous manner and was sure nowthat the needles actually were used by him. Was it due to thehigh pressure of his profession? Had that constant high tensionforced him to find relief in the most violent relaxation?

Elated, I was tempted at first to crowd my luck. I wondered if Icould not discover another ampulla such as the chauffeur, McGroarty, had picked up in his car. When Werner's servant, almost apologetically, explained that the telephone message wasfrom a near-by shop and that he would have to leave me for amatter of ten or fifteen minutes, I assured him that it was allright and that I would occupy myself with a magazine. The momenthe was out the door I sprang to action and began a minute searchof every nook and cranny of the rooms. 

But gradually a sense of growing fear and trepidation took holdof me. Suppose, after all, Werner should return homeunexpectedly? The colored boy did not seem surprised that Ishould wait, a slight indication that it was possible. Further, Icould never tell when the darky might not return himself, breaking in upon me without warning and discovering me. At thebest I was not a skillful investigator. I did not know just whereto look for hidden evidences of poison, nor was I able to workfast, for fear of leaving too tangible marks of my actions behindme. A great perspiration stood out on my forehead. Gradually atrembling took hold of my limbs and communicated itself to myfingers. 

After all, it was essential that Werner be kept in ignorance ofmy suspicions, granting they were correct. It would be fatal if Ishould frighten him inadvertently, so that he would take toflight. Realizing my foolhardiness, I returned to my chair atlast, picking up a magazine at random. I did so not a moment toosoon. A slight sound caught my ear and I looked up to see thevalet already halfway into the room. His tread was so soft Inever would have heard him. 

"I don't think I'll wait any longer, " I remarked, rising andstretching slightly, as though I had been seated all the time. "I'll ring up a little later; perhaps come back after I get intouch with Mr. Werner. "

"Who shall I say was here, sah?" the boy asked, with just a traceof darky dialect. 

Above all I didn't want to alarm Werner. I could not repeat theexplanation I had allowed the attendant downstairs to assume frommy remark, that I was a friend who had been out with the directorthe night before. I should have to take a chance that Werner'sservant and the hallboy would not compare notes, and that thelatter would say nothing to the director upon his arrival. 

"I'm an old friend from the Coast, " I explained, with a show oftaking the negro into my confidence. "I wanted to surprise himand so"--I slipped a half dollar into a willing palm--"if you'llsay nothing until I've seen him--"

He beamed. "Yes, sah! You jus' count on George, sah!"

Downstairs I wondered if I could seal the tongue of the youth whohad accommodated me before. Then I discovered that he had goneoff duty. It would be extremely unlikely that he would be aboutuntil the following day. I smiled and hastened out to the street. 

Once in the open air again, I realized the full extent of therisk I had taken. All at once it struck me that no amount ofexplanation from either Kennedy or myself would serve to mollifyWerner if he were innocent and learned of my visit. I doubted, inthis moment of afterthought, that I would escape censure fromKennedy, who surely would not want his case jeopardized byprecipitate actions upon my part. I began to run, to get awayfrom the Whistler Studios as fast as possible. 

Then I saw I had grown panicky and I checked myself. But Ihurried to the Subway and up to the university again, and to thelaboratory, eager to compare notes with Kennedy. 

"If I were Alphonse Dupin, " he remarked, calmly, grasping myexcitement, "I would deduce that you have discovered something. Iwould also deduce that you believe it important and that you haveno intention of withholding the information from me, whatever itis. "

"Correct, " I answered, grinning in spite of myself. 

Then I handed him the needle, telling him in a few brief words ofmy visit to Werner's apartment, of the hallboy's confirmation ofa nocturnal trip of some sort, of my search of the desk and someother parts of the suite. "I fixed it so that he won't hear of myvisit, at least for some time. He won't suspect who it was, inany case. "

Kennedy examined the hypodermic. 

"Not like the one used, " he murmured. 

"I thought that, " I explained. "It simply indicates he is a dopefiend and is familiar with the use of a needle. Here!" I producedthe ink filler which I had used to bring a sample of the contentsof the bottle. "This seems to be what he uses. What is it?"

Kennedy sniffed, then looked closely at the liquid through theglass of the tube. "It's a coca preparation, " he explained. "IfWerner uses this, he's unquestionably a regular drug addict. "

"Well, " I paused, triumphantly, "the case against the chiefdirector of Manton Pictures grows stronger all the time. "

"Not necessarily, " contradicted Kennedy, perhaps to draw me out. 

"He's familiar with hypodermic syringes, " I repeated. 

"Which doesn't prove that no one else would use one. "

"Anyhow, he was out until four A. M. Last night and some one brokeinto Phelps's house to--"

"You can't establish the fact that he went out there. There areplenty of other places he could have been until four in themorning. "

"But I can assume--"

"If you are going to assume anything, Walter, why not assume hewas the second man, the man who watched the actual intruder?"

I turned away, despairing of my ability to convince Kennedy. As amatter of fact I had forgotten the other prowler at Tarrytown. 

Then I noticed that the one guinea pig in the separate cage wasdead. In an instant I was all curiosity to know the results ofKennedy's investigations. 

"Did you make any progress?" I asked. 

"Yes!" Now I noticed for the first time that he was in finehumor. "I had quite finished the first stage of my analysis whenyou came in. "

"Then what was it? What was the poison that killed Stella Lamar?"I glanced at the stiff, prone figure of the little animal. 

Kennedy cleared his throat. "Well, " he replied, "I began thestudy with the discovery I made, which I told you, that strangeproteins were present. " He picked up the ampulla and regarded itthoughtfully. Then he fingered the bit of silk cut from theportieres. "It is a poison more deadly, more subtle, than anyever concocted by man, Walter. "

"Yes?" I was painfully eager. 

"It is snake venom!"

XVI

ENID ASSISTS

"A poison more subtle than any concocted by man!" repeatedKennedy. 

It was a startling declaration and left me quite speechless forthe moment. 

"We know next to nothing of the composition of the protein bodiesin the snake venoms which have such terrific and quickphysiological effects on man, " Kennedy went on. "They have beenstudied, it is true, and studied a great deal, but we cannot saythat there are any adequate tests by which the presence of theseproteins can be recognized. 

"However, everything points to the conclusion now that it wassnake venom, and my physiological tests on the guinea pig seem toconfirm it. I see no reason now to doubt that it was snake venom. The fact of the matter is that the snake venoms are about thesafest of poisons for the criminal to use, for the reason of thedifficulty they give in any chemical analysis. That is onlyanother proof of the diabolical cleverness of our guilty person, whoever it may be. 

"Later I'll identify the particular kind of venom used. Just nowI feel it is more important to discover the actual motive for thecrime. In the morning I have a plan which may save me furtherwork here in the laboratory, but for to-night I feel I haveearned a rest and"--a smile--"I shall rest by searching out themotives of these temperamental movie folk a little more. " As hespoke he slipped out of his acid-stained smock. 

"What do you mean?" As often, he rather baffled me. 

"It's nearly dinner time and we're going out together, Walter, down to Jacques'. "

"Why Jacques'?"

"Because I phoned your friend Belle Balcom and she informed methat that was the place where we would be apt to find the eliteof the film world dining. "

I acquiesced, of course. We hurried to the apartment first for afew necessary changes and preparations, then we started for theTimes Square section in a taxi. 

"I never heard of the use of snake venom before, " I remarked, settling back in the cushions--"that is, deliberately, by acriminal, to poison anyone. "

"There are cases, " replied Craig, absently. 

"Just how does the venom act?"

"I believe it is generally accepted that there are two agentspresent in the secretion. One is a peptone and the other aglobulin. One is neurotoxic, the other hemolytic. Not only is thegeneral nervous system attacked instantly, but the coagulabilityof the blood is destroyed. One agent in the venom attacks thenerve cells; the other destroys the red corpuscles. "

"You suspected something of this kind, then, when you firstexamined Stella Lamar?"

"Exactly! You see, the victim of a snake bite often is unable tomove or speak. Doctor Blake observed that in the case of thestricken star. Her nerves were affected, resulting in paralysisof the muscles of the heart and lungs and giving us some symptomsof suffocation. Then the blood, as a result of the attack of thevenom, is always left dark and liquid. That, too, I observed inthe sample sent me from Tarrytown. 

"The snake, " Kennedy continued, "administers the poison by fangsmore delicate than any hypodermic. Nature's apparatus is moreprecise than the finest appliances devised for the use of asurgeon by our instrument makers. The fangs are like needles withobliquely cut points and slit-like outlets. The poison glandscorrespond to the bulb of a syringe. They are, in reality, highlymodified salivary glands. From them, when the serpent strikes, isejected a pale straw-colored half-oleaginous fluid. You mightswallow it with impunity. But once in the blood, through a cut orwound, it is deadly. "

"There could be no snake in this case, " I remarked. "The fangs ofa serpent make two punctures, don't they; while here there wasjust the one scratch--"

"Of course there were no fangs when the deed was actually done, "he rejoined, impatiently. "We've traced everything to the needlein the portieres and it is my belief that it was part of an all-glass hypodermic with a platinum-iridium point. It could hardlyhave been anything like the coarser syringe used by Werner, nordo I think it possible that the point of an ordinary needle wouldhold sufficient venom, since it would dry and form a coating likethe incrustation on the inside of the ampulla McGroarty found. "

"That was the venom?" I asked. 

"Yes, I found it in the ampulla and in the stain on the portierewhere the needle had pierced through. "

"The towel, though--"

"Is something else. First thing in the morning we'll follow thatup, as I promised you. Meanwhile let's concentrate on motives. "

A long line of private cars and taxicabs outside Jacques'testified to the popularity of the restaurant. At the door stooda huge, bulking negro resplendent in the glaring finery of hisuniform. It seemed to me that people literally were thronginginto the place, for it was cleverly advertised as a center ofnight life. 

Inside, the famous darky jazz band was in full swing. There waslilt and rhythm to the melody produced by the grinning blacks, and not a free arm or foot or shoulder or head of any of them butdid not sway in time to their syncopated music. 

We were shown to a table on a sort of gallery or mezzanine floorwhich extended around three sides of the interior. Below, in thecenter, was the space for dancing, surrounded by groups and pairsof diners. Stairs led to the balcony on both sides, as though themanagement expected none of their guests to resist the lure ofthe dance between courses. The band, I noticed, was at thefarther end, on an elevated dais, so that the contortions of thevarious players could be seen above the heads of those on thefloor. 

We were at the rail so that we commanded a view of the entireplace, a location I guessed had been maneuvered by Kennedy with aword to the head waiter. The only tables invisible to us werethose directly beneath, but it would be a simple matter to crossaround during any dance number to view them. 

As we took our seats the lights were dimmed suddenly. I realizedthat we had arrived in the midst of the cabaret and that it wasthe turn of one of the performers. Kennedy, however, seemed toenjoy the entertainment, an example of his ability to gainrecreation whenever and however he wished, to find relaxationunder the oddest or most casual circumstances, out of anythingfrom people passing on the street to an impromptu concert of astreet band. In scanty garments, in the glare of a multi-coloredspotlight, the girl danced a hybrid of every dance from theearliest Grecian bacchanal to the latest alleged Apacheimportation from Paris. 

I have often wondered at Jacques' and places of the sort. Theintermingling of eating and drinking and dancing was curious. What possible bearing this terpsichorean monstrosity might haveupon the gastronomic inclinations of the audience it would havebeen difficult to fathom. 

The lights flashed bright again and Kennedy gave our order. Meanwhile I glanced about at the people below us. There was noone in sight I knew until I leaned well over the rail, but upondoing that I felt little chills of excitement run from the top tothe bottom of my spine, for I discovered in a very prominentsituation at the very edge of the dance floor a party of four, ofwhom three very much concerned us. Lloyd Manton, back to thepolished space behind him, was unmistakable in evening clothes. These bunched at his neck and revealed his habitual stoop asimpartially as his business suits. Across from him, lounging uponthe table likewise, but more immaculately and skillfullytailored, was Lawrence Millard. The writer, I noticed, flourishedhis cigarette holder, fully a foot in length, and emphasized hisremarks to the girl on his right with a rather characteristicgesture made with the second finger of his left hand. The girlwas Enid, quite mistress of herself in a gown little more than nogown; and the remarks were obviously confidential. The othergirl, engrossed in Manton, seemed a dangerously youthful andself-conscious young lady. Her hair flamed Titian red and herneck, of which she displayed not half as much as Enid, gave hermuch concern. 

"Kennedy! Look!" I reached over to attract his attention. 

"Who's the second girl, I wonder?" He became as interested as Iwas. 

With a blatant flourish of saxophone and cornet and traps theband began a jazzy fox-trot. Instantly there was a rush from thetables for the floor. Enid jumped to her feet, moving her bareshoulders in the rhythm of the music. Then Millard took firm holdof her and they wove their way into the crush. It seemed to methat the little star was the very incarnation of the dance. Ienvied her partner more than I dared admit to myself. 

Manton and his companion rose also, but more leisurely. On herfeet the girl did not seem so young, although the secondimpression may have been the result of the length of her skirtand the long slim, lines of her gown. We watched both couplesthrough the number, then gave our attention to the food we hadordered. Another dance, a modified waltz, revealed Enid in thearms of Manton. I tried to determine from her actions if she feltany preference for the producer, or for Millard when again shetook the floor with him. It was an idle effort, of course. Thepeople surged out perhaps three or four times while we were atour meal. Each time the party below jumped up in response to themusic. At our cigars, finally, I took to observing the otherdiners, wondering what we had gained by coming here. 

Suddenly I realized that Kennedy was rising to greet some oneapproaching our table. Turning, rising also, I went through allthe miseries of the bashful lover. It was Enid herself. 

"I caught sight of you looking over the rail while I wasdancing, " she told Kennedy, accepting a chair pulled around bythe waiter. "I knew you saw me. Also I glanced up and found thatyou were perfectly well aware of the location of our table. So"--engagingly--"unsociable creature! Why didn't you come down andsay 'Hello!' or ask me for a dance?"

"Perhaps I intended to a little later. "

"Yes!" she exclaimed, in mockery. "You see, since Mecca won't goto the pilgrim, the pilgrim has to come to Mecca. "

"Did you ever hear of Mohammed and the mountain, Miss Faye?"Kennedy asked. 

"Of course! That's the regular expression. But I agree withBarnum. As he said, some people can be original some of the timeand some people can be original all of the time, and I propose tobe original always, like a baby with molasses. "

Kennedy laughed, for indeed she was irresistible. Then she turnedto me, placing one of her warm little hands upon mine. 

"And Jamie!" she purred. "Have you forgotten little Enidaltogether? Won't--won't YOU come down and dance?"

"I--I can't!" I exploded, in agony. "I don't know how!" And Ithought that I would never dare trust myself with her glisteningshoulders clasped close to me, with her slim bare arm placedaround my neck as I had watched it slip about the collar ofMillard. 

"Now that the pilgrim is at Mecca--" Kennedy suggested, interrupting cruelly, as I thought. 

"Oh!" In an instant I sensed that I was forgotten, and I washurt. "There's something which came out this afternoon at thestudio, " she began, "and I wonder if you know. Larry--that's Mr. Millard--assures me it is true, and--and I think you ought tohear about it. I--I want to assist all I can in solving themystery of Stella Lamar's death, even though Stella's unfortunateend has meant my opportunity. "

"What is it, Miss Faye?" Kennedy was studying her. 

"It's about Jack Gordon. He's been trying to hold up the companyfor fifteen hundred a week, which would double his salary--perhaps you've heard that?"

Kennedy nodded, although it was news to him. "I've been thinkingabout Gordon, " he murmured. 

"Anyway, " she went on, "it's gone around that he's desperately inneed of money and that that is why he's so insistent upon theincrease. It seems he owes everyone. In particular he owes Phelpssome huge sums and old Phelps is on his tail, hollering andraising Ned. Phelps, you know, has uses for money himself justnow. You had heard?"

Again Kennedy evaded a direct answer. "Money is fearfully tight, of course, " he remarked, encouraging her to continue. 

"Yes, " she repeated, "Phelps is terribly hard up and afterGordon. And that's not all about our handsome leading man, Mr. Kennedy. " She leaned forward. A certain intensity crept into hervoice. She began to toy with his sleeve with the slender fingersof one hand, as though in that manner to compel his greaterattention. "You know Stella Lamar really was in love with JackGordon. In fact she was daffy over him. And now I've found outthat he was borrowing money from her, was taking nearly everycent she earned to sink in his speculations. Do you get that?"Enid's eyes snapped. 

Most certainly I understood. I knew well the type of Stella. Shehad made many men give up to her motor cars, expensive furs, jewelry, all manner of presents. But in the end she had found oneman to whom she in turn was willing to yield all. But what ofhim?

"In the last few weeks, they tell me, poor Stella disposed ofmany of her handsome presents from men like Manton and Phelps andothers, all to get money to give to him. At the end she evenraised money on her jewelry. I--I think you'll find it all inpawn now, if you'll investigate. I don't doubt but that poorStella died without a penny to her name. "

I was so surprised at this information that I failed to studyKennedy's face. I was completely jolted from my own raptcontemplation of the very soft curves of Enid's back. For herewas a motive at last! Gordon was a possible suspect I had failedto take even halfway seriously. Yet the leading man wasdesperately pressed for money, had had a disgraceful fight withPhelps as we already knew; and not only owed huge sums to hisfiancee as Enid now explained, but had quarreled with her justprior to her death, according to his own admission in theinvestigation at Tarrytown. 

Suddenly the music struck up once more. Enid rose, adjusting thestraps of her gown. 

"There!" she exclaimed, smiling abruptly. "I thought you ought toknow that, though I hate to peddle gossip. Now I must hurry back. I've been away long enough. But come down later and dance. "

She swept off without further formality. An instant afterward wesaw her in the clasp of Millard once again. We watched during thenumber and encore; then Kennedy called for the check. 

"Let's go up to the apartment, " he suggested. "I'd like to talksome of these things out with you. It will help me clarify my ownimpressions. "

Underneath the balcony I noticed Kennedy turn for a last glanceat Manton's party. I paused to look, also. Enid was leaningforward, talking to Millard earnestly, emphasizing what she hadto say with characteristic movements of her head. 

"She's pumping Millard for more information about Stella Lamar, "I remarked. 

Kennedy had no comment. 

XVII

AN APPEAL

We strolled up Broadway, resisting the attraction of a garish newmotion-picture palace at which Manton's previous release withStella Lamar was now showing to capacity--much to the delight ofthe exhibitor who greatly complimented himself on his goodfortune in being able to take advantage of the newspapersensation over the affair. 

On we walked, Kennedy mostly in silent deduction, I knew, untilwe came to the upper regions of the great thoroughfare, turnedoff, and headed toward our apartment on the Heights, not far fromthe university. 

We had scarcely settled ourselves for a quiet hour in ourquarters when the telephone rang. I answered. To my amazement Ifound that it was Marilyn Loring. 

"Is Professor Kennedy in?" she asked. 

"Yes, Miss Loring. Just a--"

"Never mind calling him to the phone, Mr. Jameson. I've beentrying to find him all evening. He was not at the laboratory, although I waited over an hour. Just tell him that there'ssomething I am very anxious to consult him about. Ask him if itwill be all right for me to run up to see him just a fewminutes. "

I explained to Kennedy. 

"Let her come along, " he said, as surprised as I was. Then headded, humorously, "I seem to be father confessor to-night. "

After sinking back in my seat in comfort once more I observed aquiet elation in Kennedy's manner. All at once it struck me whathe was doing. The multitude of considerations in this case, themany cross leads to be followed, had confused me. But now Irealized that, after all, this was only the approved Kennedymethod, the mode of procedure which had never failed to produceresults for him. Without allowing himself to be disturbed by thegreat number of people concerned, he had calmly started to pitthem one against the other, encouraging each to talk about therest, making a show of his apparent inaction and lack of haste sothat they, in turn, would shake off the excitement immediatelyfollowing the death of the girl and thereby reveal their normalselves to his keen observation. 

Not five minutes passed before Marilyn was announced. Evidentlyshe had been seeking us eagerly, for she had probably telephonedfrom a near-by pay station. 

"Mr. Kennedy, " she began, "I am going to find this very hard tosay. "

"Really, " he assured her, "there is no reason why you should notrepose your confidence in me. My only interest is to solve themystery and to see that justice is satisfied. Beyond that nothingwould give me greater happiness than to be of service to you. "

"It's--it's about Merle Shirley--" she started, bravely. Then allat once she broke down. The strain of two days had been too muchfor her. 

Kennedy lighted a fresh cigar, realizing that he could best aidher to recover her composure by making no effort to do so. Forseveral moments she sobbed silently, a handkerchief at her eyes. Then she straightened, with a half smile, dabbing at the drops ofmoisture remaining. With her wet eyes and flushed cheeks she wasrevealed to me again as a very genuine girl, wholly unspoiled byher outward mask of sophistication. Furthermore, at this instantshe was gloriously pretty. 

"Again--why do you play vampire roles, Miss Loring?" I asked, asquickly as the thought flashed to me. "I think you'd be an idealingenue!"

"About a thousand people have told me that, " she rejoined. As shereplied her smile took full possession of her features. Myidiotic repetition, entirely out of place, had served to restoreher self-control to her. "No, the public won't stand for it. They've been trained to know me as a vamp, and a vamp I remain. "

Facing Kennedy, she sobered. "Merle Shirley and I were engaged, "she went on. "That you know. Then poor Stella made a fool of him. She didn't mean any harm, any real harm, but I don't think sheknew how deep he feels or just what a fiery temper he has. Finally he found out that she was only playing with him. He wasperfectly terrible. At first I thought he had killed her in aburst of passion. I really thought that. "

"Yes?" Kennedy was interested. He needed no pretense. 

"When I asked him point blank he said he didn't. " A verywonderful light came into Marilyn Loring's eyes at this instant. "Whatever else he would do, Professor Kennedy, he wouldn't lie tome; that I know. He would tell me the truth because he knows Iwould shield him, no matter what the cost. "

"You simply want to assure me of his innocence?" suggestedKennedy. 

"No!" There was a touch of scorn to the little negative. "Youdon't believe him guilty; you didn't even when I did. "

"Then--"

"But he knows something--something about the murder of Stella--and he won't tell me what it is. I--I'm afraid for him. He isn'tsleeping at night, and I believe he's watching somebody at thestudio, and I know--it's the WOMAN'S intuition, Professor"--sheemphasized the word, and paused--"he's in danger. He's in somegreat threatening danger!"

"What do you wish me to do, Miss Loring?"

"I want you to protect him and"--slowly she colored, up andaround and about her eyes as she always did, until she wasn'tunlike an Indian maid--"and no one must know I've been up to seeyou. "

Gravely Kennedy bowed her to the door, assuring her he would doall that lay in his power. When he returned I was ready for him. 

"Now!" I exclaimed. "Now say it isn't Werner! Here is MerleShirley watching some one at the studio. Isn't that likely to bethe director? And if Shirley is watching Werner you have theexplanation for the second intruder at Tarrytown last night. Shirley is big enough and strong enough to have given the deputya nice swift tussle. "

"A little tall, I'm afraid, " Kennedy remarked. 

"You can't go by the deputy's impressions. He didn't reallyremember much of anything. Certainly he was unobserving. "

"Perhaps you're right, Walter. " Kennedy smiled. "But how aboutGordon?" he added. "There's genuine motive--money!"

"Or Shirley himself!" I attempted to be sarcastic. "There'sgenuine motive. Stella made a fool out of him. "

"It wasn't a murder of passion, " Kennedy reminded me. "No one ina white heat of rage would study up on snake venoms. "

"If it were a slow-smoldering--"

"Shirley's anger wasn't that kind. "

"But good heavens!" As usual I arrived nowhere in an argumentwith Kennedy. "Circumstantial evidence points to Werner almostaltogether--"

"You've forgotten one point in your chain, Walter. "

"What's that?"

"Whoever took the needle from the curtain last night scratchedhimself on it and left blood spots on the portieres, tiny ones, but real blood spots, nevertheless. That means the intruderinoculated himself with venom. I doubt that the poison was so dryas to be ineffectual. If it was Werner, how do you account forthe fact that he is still alive?"

"Do you"--I guess my eyes went wide--"do you expect to dig up adead man somewhere? Is there some one we suspect and haven't seensince yesterday?"

He didn't answer, preferring to tantalize me. 

"How do you account for it yourself?" I demanded, somewhat hotly. 

"Let's call it a day, Walter, " he rejoined. "Let's go to bed!"

 XVIII

THE ANTIVENIN

I slept late in the morning, so that Kennedy had to wake me. Whenwe had finished breakfast he led the way to the laboratory, allwithout making any effort to satisfy my curiosity. There hestarted packing up the tubes and materials he had been studyingin the case, rather than resuming his investigations. 

"What's the idea?" I asked, finally, unable to contain myself anylonger. 

"You carry this package, " he directed. "I'll take the other. "

I obeyed, somewhat sulkily I'm afraid. 

"You see, " he added, as we left the building and hurried to thetaxi stand near the campus, "the next problem is to identify theparticular kind of venom that was used. Besides, I want to knowthe nature of the spots on the towel you found. They certainlywere not of venom. I have my suspicions what they really are. "

He paused while we selected a vehicle and made ourselvescomfortable. "To save time, " he went on, "I thought I'd just goover to the Castleton Institute. You know in their laboratoriesthe famous Japanese investigator, Doctor Nagoya, has made somemarvelous discoveries concerning the venom of snakes. It is hisspecialty, a matter to which he has practically devoted his life. Therefore I expect that he will be able to confirm certainsuspicions of mine very quickly, or"--a shrug--"explode a theorywhich has slowly been taking form in the back of my head. "

When we dismissed the taxi in front of the institute I realizedthat this would be my first visit to this institution so lavishlyendowed by the multi-millionaire, Castleton, for the advancementof experimental science. Kennedy's card, sent in to DoctorNagoya, brought that eminent investigator out personally to seeus. He was the very finest type of Oriental savant, a member ofthe intellectual nobility of the strange Eastern land onlyrecently made receptive to the civilization of the West. When heand Kennedy chatted together in low tones for a few moments itwas hard for me to grasp that each belonged to a basic racestrain fundamentally different from the other. East and West hadmet, upon the plane of modern science. The two were simply men ofspecialized knowledge, the Japanese pre-eminent in one field, Kennedy in another. 

Carefully and thoroughly Kennedy and Nagoya went over the resultswhich Kennedy had already obtained. After a moment Doctor Nagoyaconducted us to his research room. 

"Now let me show you, " said the Oriental. 

In a moment they were deep in the mysteries of an even moreminute analysis than Kennedy had made before. I took a turn aboutthe room, finding nothing more understandable than the studyholding Kennedy's interest. Though I could not grasp it, curiosity kept me hovering close. 

"You see"--Nagoya spoke as he finished the test he was making atthe moment--"without a doubt it is crotalin, the venom of therattlesnake, Crotalus horridus. "

"There was no snake actually present, " I hastened to explain, breaking in. Then at a glance from Kennedy I stopped, abashed, for all this had been made clear to the scientist. 

"It is not necessary, " Nagoya replied, turning to me with thepoliteness characteristic of the East. "Crotalin can be obtainednow with fair ease. It is a drug used in a new treatment ofepilepsy which is being tried out at many hospitals. "

I nodded my thanks, not wanting to interrupt again. 

Kennedy pressed on to the next point he wished established. "Thatwas the spot on the portieres. Now the ampulla. "

"Also crotalin. " Doctor Nagoya spoke positively. 

"How about this solution?" Kennedy took from my package the tubewith the liquid made from the faint spots on the towel which Ihad found and which had been our first clue. "It is notcrotalin. "

The Japanese turned to his laboratory table. 

Kennedy muttered some vague suggestions which were too technicalfor me but which seemed to enable Nagoya to eliminate a greatdeal of work. The test progressed rapidly. Finally the savantstepped back, regarding the solution with a very satisfied smile. 

"It is, " he explained, carefully, "some of the very anticrotalusvenin which we have perfected right here in the institute. "

Kennedy nodded. "I suspected as much. " There was great elation inhis manner. "You see, I had heard all about your wonderful work. "

"Yes!" Nagoya waved his hand around at the wonderfully equippedroom, only one detail in the many arrangements for medicalresearch made possible by the generosity of Castleton. "Yes, " herepeated, proud of his laboratory, as he well might be, "we havemade a great deal of progress in the development of protectivesera--antivenins, we call them. "

"Are they distributed widely?" Kennedy asked, thoughtfully. 

"All over the world. We are practically the only source ofsupply. "

"How do you obtain the serum in quantity?"

"From horses treated with increasing doses of the snake venom. "

A question struck me as I remembered the peculiar double actionof the poison. "Can you tell me just how the antivenincounteracts the effects of the venom?" I inquired of the savant. 

"Surely, " he replied. "It neutralizes one of the two elements inthe venom, the nervous poison, thus enabling the individual todevote all his vitality to overcoming the irritant poison. It isthe nervous poison that is the chief death-dealing agent, producing paralysis of the heart and respiration. We advise alltravelers to carry the protective serum if they are likely to beexposed to snake bites. "

Kennedy picked up the tube containing the solution made from thetowel spots. "This antivenin was your product, doctor?"

"Probably so, " was the precise answer. 

"Then the purchasers can be identified, " I suggested. 

"We have no record of ordinary purchasers, " Nagoya explained, slowly. 

Kennedy was keenly disappointed at that, and showed it. However, he thanked the scientist cordially, and we departed. Outside, heturned to me. 

"Do you understand now why the night intruder at Tarrytown didnot die--if he is one of our suspects--from the scratch of theneedle?"

"You mean he had taken an injection of antivenin before--"

"Exactly! We are dealing with a criminal of diabolicalcleverness. Not only did he make all his plans to kill Miss Lamarwith the greatest possible care, but he prepared against accidentto himself. He was taking no chances. He inoculated himself witha protective serum. The needle of the syringe he used for thatpurpose he wiped upon the towel you discovered in the washroom. "

XIX

AROUND THE CIRCLE

"I'd like to have another talk with Millard about that FortuneFeatures affair, " remarked Kennedy. 

It was the third morning after the death of Stella Lamar, and Ifound him half through breakfast when I rose. About him werepiled moving picture and theatrical publications, daily, weekly, and monthly. At the moment I caught him he had spread wide openthe inner page of the Daily Metropolitan, a sheet devoted almostexclusively to sports and the amusement fields. 

I went around to glance over his shoulder. He pointed to a smallitem under a heading of recent plans and changes. 

 FORTUNE FEATURES

 It is hinted to the Metropolitan Man-about-Broadway, by those in a position to know but who cannot yet be quoted, that Fortune Features is about to absorb a number of the largest competing companies. Rumors of great changes in the picture world have been current for some weeks, and this is the first reliable information to be given out. It is premature to give details of the new combination, or to mention names, but Fortune's strong backing in Wall Street will, we are assured, have a stabilizing influence at a critical time in the industry. 

"Seems to be a lot of hot air, " I said. "There isn't a namementioned. Everything is 'by those in a position to know' and'rumors of and 'it is premature to give details. .. Or mentionnames'--Bah!"

Kennedy turned to places he had marked in several of the otherperiodicals and papers and I read them. Each was substantially tothe effect of the note in the Metropolitan, although wordeddifferently and generally printed as a news item. 

"It's a feeler, " Kennedy stated. "There's something back of it. When I caught the reference to Fortune Features in theMetropolitan, which I've been reading the past two days, I sentthe boy out for every movie publication he could find. Result:half a dozen repetitions of the hint that Fortune is expanding. That means that it is deliberate publicity. "

"You think this has something to do with the case?"

"I don't see the name of Manton mentioned once. Manton is a manwho seeks the front page on every opportunity. You remember, ofcourse, what Millard told us. Somehow I smell a rat. If nothingelse develops for this morning, I want to find Millard and talkto him again. I believe Manton is up to something. "

The sharp sound of our buzzer interrupted us. Because I was on myfeet I went to the door. To my amazement I found it was Phelpswho was our very early visitor. 

"I hope you'll excuse this intrusion, " he apologized to Kennedy, pushing by me with the rudeness which seemed inherent in the man. Then he recognized the sheet still spread out on the table. "Isee you, too, have been reading the Metropolitan. "

"Yes, " Kennedy admitted, languidly. "There is nothing aboutManton Pictures, though. "

"Manton Pictures, hell!" In an instant Phelps exploded and thethin veneer of politeness was gone. With a shaking finger hepointed to the item which we had just been reading anddiscussing. "Did you read that! Did you see the reference tostabilizing the industry? STABILIZING! It ought to be spelledstable-izing, for they lead all the donkeys into stalls and tiethem up and let them kick. " He stopped momentarily for sheerinability to continue. 

"I suppose you don't know Manton is behind this FortuneFeatures?"

"We were aware of the fact, " Kennedy told him, quietly. 

Phelps looked from one to the other of us keenly, as if he hadthought to surprise us and had been disappointed. Nervously hebegan to pace the floor. 

"Perhaps you know also that things haven't been going just rightwith Manton Pictures?"

Kennedy straightened. "When I asked you at Tarrytown, just twomornings ago, whether there was any trouble between Manton andyourself, you answered that there was not. "

Phelps flushed. "I didn't want to air my financial difficultieswith Manton. My--my answer was truthful, the way you meant yourquestion. Manton and I have had no words, no quarrel, nodisagreement of a personal nature. "

"What is the trouble with Manton Pictures?"

"They are wasting money--throwing it right and left. That payroll of theirs is preposterous. The waste itself is beyondbelief--sometimes four and five cameras on a scene, retakes uponthe slightest provocation, even sets rebuilt because some minordetail fails to suit the artistic eye of the director. Werner, supposed to watch all the companies, doesn't half know hisbusiness. In the making of a five-reel film they will overtakesometimes as much as eighty or a hundred thousand feet ofnegative in each of two cameras, when twenty thousand is enoughovertake for anyone. That alone is five to ten thousand dollarsfor negative stock, almost fifteen with the sample print anddeveloping. And the cost of stock, Mr. Kennedy, is the smallestitem. All the extra length is long additional weeks of pay rolland overhead expense. I put an auditor and a film expert on theaccounts of Stella Lamar's last picture. By their figures justsixty-three thousand dollars was absolutely thrown away. "

Kennedy rose, folding the newspaper carefully while he collectedhis thoughts. "My dear Mr. Phelps, " he stated, finally, "that issimply inefficiency. I doubt if it is anything criminal;certainly there is no connection with the death of Stella Lamar, my only interest in Manton Pictures. "

Phelps was very grave. "There is every connection with the deathof Stella Lamar!"

"What do you mean?"

"Mr. Kennedy, what I'm going to say to you I cannot substantiatein any court of law. Furthermore I'm laying myself open to actionfor libel, so I must not be quoted. But I want you to understandthat Stella was inescapably wound up with all of Manton'sfinancial schemes. His money maneuvers determined her sociallife, her friends--everything. She was then, as Enid Faye will benow, his come-on, his decoy. Manton has no scruples of any sortwhatsoever. He is dishonest, tricky, a liar, and a cheat. If Icould prove it I would tell him so, but he's too clever for me. Ido know, however, that he pulled the strings which controlledevery move Stella Lamar ever made. When she went to dinner withme it was because Manton wished her to do so. She was his righthand, his ears, almost his mouth. I have no doubt but that herdeath is the direct result of some business deal of his--something directly to do with his financial necessities. "

Kennedy did not glance up. "Those are very serious assertions. "

"It is a very serious matter. To show how unscrupulous Manton is, I can demonstrate that he is wrecking Manton Picturesdeliberately. I've told you of the waste. Only the other day Icame into the studio. Werner was putting up a great ballroom set. You saw it? No, that isn't the one I mean. I mean the first one. He had it all up; then some little thing didn't suit him. Thenext day I came in again. All struck--sloughed--every bit of it--and a new one started. 'Lloyd, ' I said, 'just think a minute--that's my money!' What good did it do? He even began to alter thenew set! He would only go on, encouraging Werner and the otherdirectors to change their sets, to lose time in trying forfoolish effects, anything at all to pad the expense. 

"You think I am romancing, but you don't understand the filmworld, " Phelps hurried on angrily. "Do you know that Enid Faye'scontract is not with Manton Pictures but with Manton himself?That means he can take her away from me after he has made her astar with my money, at my expense. Why should he wreck MantonPictures, you ask? Do you know that, bit by bit, on the pretextthat he needed the funds for this that, or the other thing, Manton has sold out his entire interest in the company to me? Itis all mine now. I tell you, " complained Phelps, bitterly, "hecouldn't seem to wreck the company fast enough. Why? Do yourealize that there isn't room both for this older company and thenew Fortune Features? Can you see that if Manton Pictures failsthe Fortune company will be able to pick up the studio and allthe equipment for a song? I'm the fall guy!

"And yet, Kennedy, all the efforts to wreck Manton Pictures wouldhave failed, because 'The Black Terror' was too sure a success. In spite of all the expense, in spite of every effort to wreckit, that picture would have made half a million dollars. Stella'sacting and Millard's story and script would have put it over. Butnow Millard's contract has expired and Manton has signed him forFortune Features. Enid Faye will be made a star by 'The BlackTerror, ' but she is not now the drawing power to put it over big, as Stella would have done. I tell you, Kennedy, the death ofStella Lamar has completed the wreck of Manton Pictures!"

Kennedy jumped to his feet. There was a hard light in his eyes Ihad never seen before. 

"Do I understand you, Phelps?" he snapped. "Are you accusingManton of the cold-blooded murder of Stella Lamar to furthervarious financial schemes?"

"Hardly!" Phelps blanched a bit, and I thought that a shudderswept over him. "I don't mean anything like that at all. What Imean is that Manton, in encouraging various sorts of dissensionto wreck the company, inadvertently fanned the flames of passionof those about her, and it resulted in her death. "

"Who killed her?"

"I don't know!" Grudgingly I admitted that this seemed open andfrank. 

"At Tarrytown, " Kennedy went on, "I asked you if Stella Lamar wasmaking any trouble, had threatened to quit Manton Pictures, andyou said no. Is that still your answer?"

"For several months she had been up-stage. That was not becauseshe wanted to make trouble, but because she had fallen in love. Manton found he couldn't handle her as he had previously. "

"Do you suspect Manton of killing her himself?"

"I don't suspect anyone. That is an honest answer, Mr. Kennedy. "

"What do you know about Fortune Features?"

The banker's eye fell on the newspaper again. "I know who thisnew Wall Street fellow is. I've got my scouts out working for me. It's Leigh--that's who it is. And I'm sore; I have a right tobe. "

Phelps was getting more and more heated, by the moment. "I tellyou, " he almost shouted, "this fake movie business is the moderngold-brick game, all right. Never again!"

I was amazed at the Machiavellian cleverness of Manton. Here hewas, on one hand openly working with, yet secretly ruining, theManton Pictures, while on the other hand he was covertly buildingup the competing Fortune Features. 

Kennedy paced out into the little hall of our suite and back. Hefaced our visitor once more. 

"Why did you come to see me this morning? At our last encounter, you may recall you said you wished you could throw me down thesteps. "

Phelps smiled ruefully. "That was a mistake. It was the way Ifelt, but--I'm sorry. "

"Now--?"

Again the black clouds overshadowed the features of thefinancier. "Now I want you to bring out and prove the things I'vetold you. " The malice showed in his voice plainly, for the firsttime. "I want it proved in court that Manton is a cheap crook. When you uncover the murderer of Stella Lamar you will find thatthe moral responsibility for her death traces right back to LloydManton. I want him driven out of the business. "

Kennedy's attitude changed. As he escorted Phelps to the door histones were self-controlled. "Anything of the sort is beyond myprovince. My task is simply to find the person who killed thegirl. "

When the financier was gone I turned to Kennedy eagerly. "What doyou think?" I asked. 

"I think, more than ever, that we should investigate FortuneFeatures. Let's have a look at the telephone book. "

There was no studio of the new corporation in New York, but wedid find one listed in New Jersey, just across the river, at FortLee. We walked from the university down the hill and over to theferry. On the other side a ten minutes' street-car ride took usto our destination. 

Facing us was a huge barn-like structure set down in the midst ofa little park. Inquiry for Manton brought no response whatever;rather, surprise that we should be asking for him here. However, I reflected that that was exactly what we ought to expect ifManton was working under cover. The girl at the telephoneswitchboard, smiling at Kennedy, had a suggestion. 

"They're taking a storm exterior down in the meadow, " sheexplained. "Perhaps he's down there, among the visitors--orperhaps there's someone who will be able to give you someinformation. "

I glanced outdoors at the brightly shining sun. "A storm?" Irepeated, incredulously. 

"Yes, " she smiled. "It might interest you to see it. "

Following her directions, we started across country, leaving thestudio building some distance behind and entering a broad expanseof meadow beyond a thin clump of trees. At the farther end wecould see a large group of people and paraphernalia which, at thedistance, we could not make out. 

However, it was not long after we emerged from the trees that weperceived they were photographing squarely in our direction. Several began waving their arms wildly at us and shouting. Kennedy and I, understanding, turned and advanced, keeping wellout of the camera lines, along the edge of the field. 

"Hello!" a voice greeted us as we approached the group standingback and watching the action. 

To my surprise it was Millard, with the spectators. I lookedabout for Manton but did not see him, nor anyone else we knew. 

"It's a storm and cyclone, " said Millard, his attention rather onwhat was going on than on us. 

For the moment we said nothing. 

The scene before us was indeed interesting. Half a dozenaeroplane engines and propellers had been set up outside thepicture, and anchored securely in place. The wind from them wasactually enough to knock a man down. Rain was furnished by hoseplaying water into the whirling blades, sending it driving intothe scene with the fury of a tropical storm. Back of thepropellers half a dozen men were frantically at work shovelinginto them sand and dirt, creating an amazingly realistic cyclone. 

We arrived in the midst of the cyclone scene, as the dust stormwas ending and the torrential rain succeeded. For the storm, aminiature village had been constructed in break-away fashion, partially sawed through and tricked for the proper moment. Manyobjects were controlled by invisible wires, including an actualhorse and buggy which seemed to be lifted bodily and carriedaway. Roofs flew off, walls crashed in, actors and actresses wereknocked flat as some few of them failed to gain their cyclonecellars. Altogether, it was a storm of such efficiency as Natureherself could scarcely have furnished, and all staged with thestreaming sunlight which made photography possible. 

Pandemonium reigned. Cameras were grinding, directors werebawling through megaphones, all was calculated chaos. Yet it tookonly a glance to see that some marvelous effects were beingcaught here. 

At the conclusion I recognized suddenly the little leading lady, It was the girl we had seen with Manton at Jacques' cabaret. 

"That's the way to take a picture, " exclaimed Millard. "Everything right--no expense spared. I came over to see it done. It's wonderful. "

"Yes, " was Kennedy's answer, "but it must be very costly. "

"It is all of that, " said Millard. "But what of it if the filmmakes a big clean-up? I wouldn't have missed this for anything. Werner never staged a spectacle like this in his life. FortuneFeatures are going to set a new mark in pictures. "

"But can they keep it up? Have they the money?"

Millard shrugged his shoulders. "Manton Pictures can't--that's acinch. Phelps has reached the end of his rope, I guess. I'mafraid the trouble with him was that he was thinking of too manythings besides pictures. "

There was no mistaking the meaning of the remark. Millard wasstill cut by Stella's desertion of him for the broker. I caughtKennedy's glance, but neither of us cared to refer to her. 

"Where can I find Manton now?" Kennedy asked. 

"Did you try his office at seven hundred and twenty-nine?" wasMillard's suggestion. 

"No; I wanted to see this place first. "

"Well, you'll most likely find him there. I've got to go back tothe city myself-some scenes of 'The Black Terror' to rewrite tofit Enid better. I'll motor you across the ferry and to theSubway. "

At the Subway station, Millard left us and we proceeded toManton's executive offices in a Seventh Avenue skyscraper, builtfor and devoted exclusively to the film business. 

Manton's business suite was lavishly furnished, but not quite asornate and garish as his apartment. The promoter himself welcomedus, for no matter how busy he was at any hour, he always seemedto have time to stop and chat. 

"Well, how goes it?" He pushed over a box of expensive cigars. "Have you found out anything yet?"

"Had a visit from Phelps this morning. " Kennedy plunged directlyinto the subject, watching the effect. 

Manton did not betray anything except a quiet smile. "Poor oldPhelps, " he said. "I guess he's pretty uneasy. You know he hasbeen speculating rather heavily in the market lately. There was atime when I thought Phelps had a bank roll in reserve. But itseems he has been playing the game on a shoestring, after all. "

Manton casually flicked the ashes from his cigar into a highlypolished cuspidor as he leaned over. "I happen to have learnedthat, to make his bluff good, he has been taking money from hisbrokerage business"--here he nodded sagely--"his customers'accounts you know. Leigh knows the inside of everybody's affairsin Wall Street. They say a quarter of a million is short, atleast. To tell you the truth, poor Stella took a good deal ofPhelps's money. Certainly his Manton Pictures holdings wouldn'tleave him in the hole as deep as all that. "

I reflected that this was quite the way of the world--firstframing up something on a boob, then deprecating the ease withwhich he was trimmed. 

Was it blackmail Stella had levied on Phelps, I wondered? Was shetaking from him to give to Gordon? Had Stella broken him? Was shethe real cause of the tangle in his affairs? And had Phelps ininsane passion revenged himself on her?

In the conversation with Manton there was certainly no hint ofanswer to my queries. With all his ease, Manton was the truepicture promoter. Seldom was he betrayed into a positivestatement of his own. Always, when necessary, he gave asauthority the name of some one else. But the effect was the same. 

A hurried call of some sort took Manton away from us. Kennedyturned to me with a whimsical expression. 

"Let's go!" he remarked. 

"What do you make of it, offhand?" I asked, outside. 

"We're going about in a circle, " he remarked. "Strange group ofpeople. Each apparently suspects the other. "

"And, to cover himself, talks of the other fellow, " I added. 

Kennedy nodded, and we made our way toward the laboratory. 

"I'll bet something happens before the day is over, " I hazarded, for no reason in particular. 

Kennedy shrugged. 

As we went, I cast up in my mind the facts we had learned. Theinformation from Manton was disconcerting, coming on top of whathad already been revealed about the inner workings of his game. If Phelps had secretly "borrowed" from the trust accounts in hischarge a quarter of a million or so, I saw that his situationmust indeed be desperate. To what lengths he might go it wasdifficult to determine. 

XX

THE BANQUET SCENE

For once I qualified as a prophet. We were hardly in our roomswhen the telephone rang for Kennedy. It was District-AttorneyMackay, calling in from Tarrytown. 

"My men have positive identification of one of the visitors tothe Phelps home the night after the murder, " he reported. 

"Fine!" exclaimed Kennedy. "Who was it? How did you uncover histrail?"

"You remember that my deputy heard the sound of a departingautomobile? Well, we have been questioning everyone. A citizenhere, who returned home late at just about that hour, remembersseeing a taxicab tearing through the street at a reckless rate. He came in to see me this morning. He made a mental note of thelicense number at the time, and while nothing stuck with him butthe last three figures, three sixes, he was sure that it was aMaroon taxi. We got busy and have located the driver who made thetrip, from a stand at Thirty-third all the way out and back. Onthe return he dropped his fare at the man's apartment. Theidentification is positive. "

"Who is it?" Kennedy became quite excited. 

"Werner, the director. "

"Werner!" in surprise. "What are you going to do?"

"Arrest him first--examine him afterward. I've sworn out thewarrant already, and I'm going to start in by car just as soon aswe hang up. I thought I'd phone you first in case you wanted toaccompany me to the studio. "

"We'll hurry there, " Kennedy replied, "and meet you. "

"Outside?"

"No, up on the floor. "

"You'll be there fifteen minutes to half an hour ahead of me. Ihope there is no way for anyone to tip him off so he can escape. "

"We'll stop him if he attempts it. "

"Good!"

The courtyard of the studio of Manton Pictures, Incorporated, wasabout the same as upon the occasions of our previous visitsexcept that I detected a larger number of cars parked in theinclosure, including a number of very fine ones. Also, it seemedto me that there was a greater absence of life than usual, asthough something of particular interest had taken everyone insidethe buildings. 

The gateman informed us that Werner was working the large studio. We made our way up through the structure containing the dressingrooms and found the proper door without difficulty. When wepassed through under the big glass roof we grasped the reason forthe lack of interest in the other departments about thequadrangle. Here everyone was gathered to watch the taking of thebanquet scene for "The Black Terror. " The huge set wasilluminated brightly, and packed, thronged with people. 

It was a marvelous set in many ways. To carry out the illusion ofsize and to aid in the deceptive additional length given by themirrors at the farther end, Werner had decided against the usualone large table arranged horseshoe-like, but had substitutedinstead a great number of individual smaller tables, about whichhe had grouped the various guests. The placing of those nearestthe mirrors had been so arranged as to give no double images, thus betraying the trick. The waiters, all the characters whowalked about, were kept near the front toward the cameras for thesame reason. It seemed as if the banquet hall was at least twiceits actual size. 

I saw that Millard had arrived ahead of us. Either the changingof the scenes in his script to fit Enid had not taken him verylong or else the photographing of this particular bit of actionhad proved sufficiently fascinating to draw him away from hiswork. I wondered at first if he had come to the studio to use hisoffice here, an infrequent happening, from Manton's account. ThenI realized that he was in evening dress. Without doubt he plannedto play a minor part in the banquet. His presence was noaccident. 

Then I picked out Manton himself from our point of observation ina quiet corner selected by Kennedy for that purpose. It wasevident that the promoter had cleared up his business at theoffice rapidly since we had left him there to go to our quarterson the Heights and had departed immediately from the latter placeso as to precede the District Attorney here. 

Manton as well as Millard was in evening dress. A moment later Irecognized Phelps, and he, too, wore his formal clothes. In aninstant I grasped that Werner actually was saving money. Not onlywere these officials of the company present to help fill up thetables, but I was able now to pick out a number of the guests whowere uneasy in their make-up and more or less out of place infull-dress attire. They certainly were not actors. One girl Idefinitely placed as the stenographer from Manton's waiting roomat the studio; then other things caught my attention. I could nothelp but doubt the stories of waste told us by Phelps as I lookedover the scene before me. The use of the mirrors to avoidbuilding the full length of the floor did not seem to fit in withthe theory that Manton and Werner were making every effort towreck the company deliberately. 

I watched the financier for several moments, but did not detectanything from his manner except that he seemed to feel ill atease and awkward in make-up. I picked out Millard again and thistime found him talking with Enid Faye and Gordon. Immediately Isensed a dramatic conflict, carefully suppressed, but having toomany of the outward indications to fool anyone. In fact, a childwould have observed that Lawrence Millard and the leading manneeded little urging to engage in a scuffle then and there. Though Stella Lamar was dead, this was the heritage she had left. Her touch had embittered two men beyond the point ofreconciliation--the husband who had been, and the husband who wasto be. Of the two, Millard had far the better control of himself, however. 

After a brief word or so Gordon left them. At once I could seethe relief in the expressions of both the others. Again Iwondered just what might be between these two. It was an easyfamiliarity which might have been as casual as it seemed to be, no more, or which might have been a mask for something far deeperand more enduring, the schooled outer cloak of an inner perfectunderstanding. 

Werner was by far the busiest of those waiting in the stiflingheat beneath the glass roof. He was in evening dress, prepared totake his own place before the camera, and in straight make-up, sothat he looked nothing like the slain millionaire, the part hehad played in the opening scenes. I saw that he was a master inthe art of make-up. I was sure that he was more nervous thanusual. It struck me that he needed the stimulus of the drug heused, although later I knew that he must have felt, intuitively, the coming of events which followed close upon the attempt tophotograph the action. 

As more of the people hurried up from the offices and around fromthe manuscript and other departments, very conscious of theirformal attire, and as the regular players changed and adjustedthe make-ups of these amateurs, the banquet took on theproportions of a real affair. 

The members of the cast were placed at the table in theforeground. Enid, Gordon, Marilyn, and a fourth man were assignedlocations; after which Werner proceeded to fill the seats in therear. With the exception of Millard and Phelps, none of theinexperienced people were allowed to face the camera. Manton, whose features were familiar through published interviews in manypublicity campaigns, was placed to one side opposite Phelps. Millard was given charge of a group containing a number of giddyextra girls in somewhat diaphanous costume, and seemed to be inhis element. 

The tables themselves were prepared with perfect taste. I couldsee that real food was being used, in order to achieve a greaterdegree of realism, for a caterer had set up a buffet somedistance out of the scene from which to serve the courses calledfor in the script. Many of the dishes were being kept hot, thesteam curling from beneath the covers in appetizing wisps. Thewine, supposed to be champagne, was sparkling apple juice of thebest quality, and I don't doubt but that before the days ofprohibition Werner would have insisted upon the real fizz water. In details such as these the director was showing no economy. 

"All ready now?" Werner called, stepping back to a place at atable which he had reserved for himself. "All set? Remember theaction of the script?"

Instantly the buzz of conversation died and everyone turned tohim. 

"No, no, no!" he exclaimed in vexation. "Don't go dead on yourfeet. This is a banquet. You are having a good time. It's not afuneral! You were all in just the right state of mind before, andyou don't have to stop and gape to listen to me. Keep right ontalking and laughing. My voice will carry and you can hearwithout getting out of your parts. "

I turned to Kennedy, to see how the picture-making struck him. Isaw that he was watching the two girls at the forward tableclosely and so I faced about to follow his glance. Marilyn's facewas red with anger, while Enid, calm and rather malicious, wasignoring her to devote all attention to Gordon. The leading man, bored and irritated, made no effort to conceal a heavy scowl. Inthe momentary interval following Werner's instructions, Marilynlost all control of herself. 

"If you will pardon me, MISS Faye, " she cried out in a voicewhich carried over to us and with cutting accent upon the "Miss, ""I think that in this scene at least we should BOTH be facing thecamera. If I understand the scene in the script at all it isintended to show the conflict between the two women over the oneman seated between them. Jack Daring is to be swayed first byStella Remsen, then by Zelda. At least this once I think thedaughter of old Remsen and his ward are playing roles of equalimportance. "

For a moment I smiled, realizing that Marilyn was not going tolet Enid "take the picture away" from her as we had seen the newstar do in one of her first scenes with the leading man. Then Isobered, realizing that it was the outer reflection of the deep-running passion of these people. The cloud of Stella's death wasover them still. 

Enid responded, but in tones too low for us to hear. A new flushof red in Marilyn's face, however, demonstrated the power in thelash of the other girl's tongue. Werner hurried over to them, notmasking his own irritation any too well. Without a word he beganrearranging the table, moving it slightly so that while there wasno great difference in its position he had yet made a show ofsatisfying Marilyn. In effect he pleased neither. The two prettyfaces closest to the camera were a study in discontent. 

"I don't wonder that moving-picture directors are nervous, "Kennedy remarked. "Film manufacture must keep everyone underconstant tension. "

"What do you make of the feeling between the different people?" Iasked. "Did you notice Millard and Gordon, and now Enid andMarilyn?"

"There's something under cover, " he rejoined; "something behindall this. I get the impression that our suspects are watching oneanother, like as many hawks. At various times most of them haveglanced over at us. They know we are here and are conscious theymay be under suspicion. Therefore I particularly want to see howthose two girls act when Mackay arrives to arrest Werner. "

The director, stepping back to his place, took a megaphone fromhis assistant for use in the rehearsal. 

"Now you must act just as though this were a real banquet, " heshouted. "Try to forget that the Black Terror is lurking outsidethe window, that an attack is coming from him. Remember, when theshot is fired you must all leap up as though you meant it. Here!You--you--you--" designating certain extra girls, "faint when ithappens. That's not until after the toast is proposed. I'llpropose the toast from my table and it will be the cue forShirley, outside. Now don't get ahead of the action. Youamateurs, don't turn around to see if the camera is working. We'll go through the action up to the moment I propose thetoast. " The buzz of conversation rose slightly as though aneffort was being put into the gayety. I glanced about at some ofthe people who were cast for only this one scene, wishing I couldread lips, because I was sure many of them talked of matterswholly out of place in this setting. At the same time I kept aneye on the principals and upon Werner. 

Finally the director was satisfied, after a second rehearsal. 

"All right, " he bellowed, throwing the megaphone from the scene. "Shoot!"

At the same instant he dropped to his place and apparently was aguest with no interest but in the food and wine before him. 

At the cameras-there were three of them-the assistant directorkept a careful watch of the general action. In actual time by thewatch the whole was very short, a second measuring to sixteenpictures or a foot of film as I explained afterward to Kennedy. The entire scene perhaps ran one hundred or one hundred and fiftyfeet. 

But on the screen, even to the spectators in the studio, theillusion in a scene of the kind would be the duration of half anhour or even more. This would be helped by close-ups of theindividual action, especially by the byplay between theprincipals, taken later and inserted into the long shot by thefilm cutter. 

I know I was carried away by a sense of reality. It seemed to methat waiters made endless trips to and fro, that here and therepretty girls broke into laughter constantly or that men leanedforward every other moment to make witty remarks; in fact I feltgenuinely sorry I could not take part in the festivities. I knewthat danger, in the person of the Black Terror as played byShirley, lurked just out the window. I felt deliciousanticipatory thrills of fear, so thoroughly was I in the spiritof the thing. Then I saw that Werner was about to propose thetoast, about to give the cue for the big action. 

"Watch him" whispered Kennedy. "He's an actor. He's taking thatdrink just as though he meant every drop of it. "

Werner had raised his delicately stemmed glass as though to joinhis neighbor in some pledge when a new idea seemed to strike him. He leaped to his feet. 

"Let's drink together! Let's drink to our hero and heroine of theevening!"

Other voices rose in acclamation. The wine had been pouredlavishly. Glasses clinked and we could hear laughter. 

Suddenly at the window, back of everyone, appeared the evil, black-masked figure of Shirley, eyes glittering menacingly fromtheir slits, two weapons glistening blue in his hands. 

At the same moment there was a terrible groan, followed by ascream of agony. Werner staggered back, his left hand clutched athis breast. From his right hand the glass which he had drainedfell to the canvas covered floor with an ominous dull crash. 

This was not in the script! Practically everybody realized thefact, for the scene instantly was in an uproar. In the generalconsternation no one seemed to know just what to do. 

Shirley was the first to act, the first to realize what hadhappened. Dropping his weapons, reaching the side of the strickendirector in one leap, he supported him as he reeled drunkenly, then eased him to the floor. Behind us, before I could look toKennedy to see what he would do, there was the gasp of a man outof breath from hurrying upstairs. I turned, startled. It wasMackay. 

"Shall I make the collar?" he wheezed. At the same instant he sawthe gathering crowd in the set. "What--what's happened?" heasked. 

Kennedy had bounded forward only a few seconds after Shirley. AsI pushed through after him, Mackay following, I discovered himkneeling at the side of Werner. 

"Some one send for a doctor, quick, " he commanded, taking chargeof things as a matter of course. "Hurry!" he repeated. "He'sgasping for air and it'll be too late in a minute. "

Then he saw us. "Walter--Mackay"--he raised Werner's head--"pusheveryone back, please! Give him a chance to breathe!"

A thousand thoughts flashed through my head as politely butfirmly I widened the space about Kennedy and the director. Wasthis a case of suicide? Had Werner known we were coming for him?Had he thought to bring about his own end in the most spectacularfashion possible? Was this the fancy of a drug-weakened brain?

Suddenly I realized that Werner was trying to speak. One of thecamera men had helped Kennedy lift him to the top of a table, swept of its dishes and linen, so as to make it easier for him tobreathe. 

"Out in Tarrytown, " he muttered, weakly, "that night--Isuspected--and--saw--" His voice trailed off into nothingness. Even the motion of his lips was too feeble to follow. 

In an instant I grasped the cruel injustice I had done this manin my mind. It was now that I remembered, in a flash, Kennedy'sattitude and was glad that Kennedy had not suspected him. 

"See!" I faced Mackay, speaking in quick, low tones so the otherscould not hear. "I--we--have been totally and absolutely wrong insuspecting Werner. Instead, it was he who has been playing ourgame--trying to confirm his own suspicions. I've been entirelywrong in my deductions from the discovery of his dope andneedles. "

"What do you mean, Jameson?" The district attorney had been takencompletely off his feet by the unexpected developments. His eyeswere rather dazed, his expression baffled. "What do you mean?"

"Why he was out at Tarrytown that night, all right, don't yousee--but--but he was the second man, the man who watched!"

Mackay still seemed unable to comprehend. 

"There were two men, " I went on, excitedly; covering my ownchagrin in my impatience at the little district attorney. "Theone your deputy struggled with was short, rather than tall, andvery strong. That's Werner! Can't you see it? Haven't you noticedhow stockily and powerfully the director is built?"

"Werner must really have had some clue, " murmured Mackay, dazed. 

It left me wondering whether the stimulation of the dope mightnot have heightened Werner's imagination and urged him on infollowing something that our more sluggish minds had never evendreamed. 

Meanwhile I saw that the doctor had arrived and that Kennedy hadhelped carry Werner to a dressing room where first aid could begiven more conveniently. Now Kennedy hurried back into thestudio, glancing quickly this way and that, as though to catchsigns of confusion or guilt upon the faces of those about us. 

I colored. Instead of making explanations to Mackay, explanationswhich could have waited, I might have used what faculties ofobservation I possessed to aid Kennedy while he was giving firstconsideration to the life of a man. As it was, I didn't know whathad become of any of the various people upon our list of possiblesuspects. As far as I was concerned, any or every sign and clueto the attack upon Werner might have been removed or destroyed. 

A sudden hush caused all of us to turn toward the door leading tothe dressing rooms. It was the physician. He raised a hand forattention. His voice was low, but it carried to every corner ofthe studio:

"Mr. Werner is dead, " he announced. 

XXI

MERLE SHIRLEY OVERACTS

Appalled, I wondered who it was who had, to cover up one crime, committed another? Who had struck down an innocent man to save aguilty neck?

Kennedy hurried to the side of the physician and I followed. 

"What symptoms did you observe?" asked Kennedy, quickly, seekingconfirmation of his own first impressions. 

"His mouth seemed dry and I should say he suffered from a quickprostration. There seemed to be a complete loss of power toswallow or speak. The pupils were dilated as though fromparalysis of the eyes. Both pharynx and larynx were affected. There was respiration paralysis. It seemed also as though thecranial nerves were partially paralyzed. It was typically acondition due to some toxic substance which paralyzed anddepressed certain areas of the body. "

Kennedy nodded. "That fits in with a theory I have. "

I thought quickly, then inquired; "Could it be the snake venomagain?"

"No, " Kennedy replied, shaking his head; "there's a difference inthe symptoms and there is no mark on any exposed part of thebody, as near as I could see in a superficial examination. "

He turned to the physician. "Could you give me blood smears andsome of the stomach contents, at once? Twice, now, some one hasbeen stricken down before the very eyes of the actors. This thinghas gone too far to trifle with or delay a moment. "

The doctor hurried off toward the dressing room, anxious to helpKennedy, and as excited, I thought, as any of us. Next Kennedyfaced me. 

"Did you watch the people at all, Walter?"

"I--I was too upset by the suddenness of it, " I stammered. 

All seemed to have suspicion of some one else, and there was ageneral constraint, as though even the innocent feared to do orsay something that might look or sound incriminating. 

I turned. All were now watching every move we made, though justyet none ventured to follow us. It was as though they felt thatto do so was like crossing a dead line. I wondered which one ofthem might be looking at us with inward trepidation--or perhapssatisfaction, if there had been any chance to remove anythingincriminating. 

Kennedy strode over toward the ill-fated set, Mackay and I at hisheels. As we moved across the floor I noticed that everyoneclustered as close as he dared, afraid, seemingly, of any actionwhich might hinder the investigation, yet unwilling to miss anydetail of Kennedy's method. In contrast with the clamor andracket of less than a half hour previously there was now adeathlike stillness beneath the arched ground-glass roof. Theheat was more oppressive than ever before. In the faces andexpressions of the awed witnesses of death's swift hand there washorror, and a growing fear. No one spoke, except in whispers. When anybody moved it was on tiptoe, cautiously. Millard'screation, "The Black Terror, " could have inspired no dreadgreater than this. 

Of the people we wished to study, Phelps caught our eyes thefirst. Dejected, crushed, utterly discouraged, he was sloucheddown in a chair just at the edge of the supposed banquet hall. Ihad no doubt of the nature of his thoughts. There was probablyonly the most perfunctory sympathy for the stricken director. Without question his mind ran to dollars. The dollar-angle tothis tragedy was that the death of Werner was simply another stepin the wrecking of Manton Pictures. Kennedy, I saw, hardly gavehim a passing glance. 

Manton we observed near the door. With the possible exception ofMillard he seemed about the least concerned. The two, scenariowriter and producer, had counterfeited the melodrama of life sooften in their productions that even the second sinister chapterin this film mystery failed to penetrate their sang-froid. Inwardly they may have felt as deeply as any of the rest, butboth maintained their outward composure. 

On Manton's shoulders was the responsibility for the picture. Icould see that he was nervous, irritable; yet, as variousemployees approached for their instructions in this emergency henever lost his grasp of affairs. In the vibrant quiet of thisstudio chamber, still under the shadow of tragedy, we witnessedas cold-blooded a bit of business generalship as has ever come tomy knowledge. We overheard, because Manton's voice carried acrossto us in the stillness. 

"Kauf!" The name I remembered as that of the technical, or art, director under Werner, responsible for the sets of "The BlackTerror. "

"Yes, Mr. Manton!" Kauf was a slim, stoop-shouldered man, gray, and a dynamo of energy in a quiet, subservient way. He ran toManton's side. 

"Remember once telling me you wanted to become a director, thatyou wanted to make pictures for me?"

"Yes, sir!"

"You are familiar with the script of 'The Black Terror, ' aren'tyou? You know the people and how they work and you have setslined up. How would you like to finish the direction?"

"But--but--" To the credit of the little man he dabbed at hiseyes. I guess he had been fond of his immediate superior. "Mr. --Mr. Werner is d-dead--" he stammered. 

"Of course!" Manton's voice rose slightly. "If Werner wasn't deadI wouldn't need another director at a moment's notice. Some onehas to complete 'The Black Terror. ' We have all these people onsalary, and all the studio expense, and the release date'ssettled, so that we can't stop. It's your chance, Kauf! Do youwant it?"

"Y-yes, sir!"

"Good! I'll double your salary, including all this week. Now canyou finish this banquet set to-night, while you have the people--s"

"To-night!" Kauf's eyes went wide, then he started to flush. 

"Well, to-morrow, then! We simply can't lay off a day, Kauf!"

"All--all right, sir!"

It seemed to me that everyone in the place sensed the horror ofthis. Literally, actually, Werner's body could not be cold. Eventhe police, the medical examiner, had not had sufficient time tomake the trip out for their investigation. Yet the director'ssuccessor had been appointed and told to hurry the production. 

I glanced at Phelps. He raised his head slowly, his expressionlifting at the thought that production was to continue withoutinterruption. In another moment, however, there was a change inhis face. His eyes sought Manton and hardened. His mouthtightened. Hate, a deep, unreasoning hate, settled into hisfeatures. 

Kennedy, pausing just long enough to observe the promoter'sappointment of Kauf to Werner's position, continued on toward theset. Now as I looked about I saw that Jack Gordon was missing, aswell as Marilyn Loring. Presumably they had gone to theirdressing rooms. All the other actors and actresses were waiting, ill at ease, wondering at the outcome of the tragedy. 

Suddenly Kennedy stopped and I grasped that it was the peculiaractions of Merle Shirley which had halted him. 

The heavy man was the only one of the company actually in thefabricated banquet hall itself. Clinging to him still were thegrim flowing robes of the Black Terror. As though he were someold-fashioned tragedian, he was pacing up and down, hands behindhis back, head bowed, eyes on the floor. More, he was mumbling tohimself. It was evident, however, that it was neither a pose normental aberration. Shirley was searching for something, out inthe open, without attempt at concealment, swearing softly at hislack of success. 

Kennedy pushed forward. "Did you lose something, Mr. Shirley?"

"No!" The heavy man straightened. As he drew himself up in hissinister garb I thought again of the cheap actors of a day whenmoving pictures had yet to pre-empt the field of the luridmelodrama. It seemed to me that Merle Shirley was overacting, that it was impossible for him to be so wrought up over theslaying of a man who, after all, was only his director, certainlynot a close nor an intimate relationship. 

"Mr. Kennedy, " he stated, ponderously, "there has been a seconddeath, and at the hand which struck down Stella Lamar inTarrytown. Somewhere in this banquet hall interior there is aclue to the murderer. I have kept a careful watch so that nothingmight be disturbed. "

"Do you suspect anyone?" Kennedy asked. Shirley glanced away andwe knew he was lying. "No, not definitely. "

"Who has been in the set since I left with the doctor?"

"No one except myself, that is"--Shirley wanted to make it clear--"no one has had any opportunity to hide or move or take orchange a thing, because I have been right here all the time. "

"I see! Thanks, and"--Kennedy seemed genuinely apologetic--"ifyou don't mind--I would prefer to make my investigation alone. "

Shirley turned on his heel and made for his dressing room. 

Meanwhile I had noticed a bit of by-play between Enid Faye andLawrence Millard, the only others of our possible suspects about. Enid first had caught my eye because she seemed to be pleadingwith the writer, trying to hold him. I gathered from the look ofdisgust on Millard's face that he wanted to get Shirley out ofthe set before Kennedy should observe the heavy man's oddreaction to the tragedy. While I had never seen Millard andShirley together, so as to establish in mind the state of theirfeelings toward each other, this would seem to indicate that theywere friendly. Certainly Shirley was making a fool of himself. Enid acted, I guessed, so as to prevent Millard's interference, probably with the idea that Millard in some fashion might bringsuspicion upon himself. It struck me that Enid had a wholesomerespect for Kennedy. 

At any rate, Millard watched the little scene between Kennedy andShirley with a quizzical expression. As Shirley left he shruggedhis shoulders, then he gave Enid's cheeks a playful pinch eachand started out after the heavy man in leisurely fashion. 

Just about the same moment Kennedy called me to his side. 

"Walter, " he pleaded, in a low voice, "will you hurry out to thedressing room where the doctor and I took Werner and get theblood smears and sample of the stomach contents? I don't want toleave this, because we must work fast and get all the data weneed before the police arrive. With perhaps a hundred people toquestion they'll be apt to make a fine mess of everything. Thisis an outlying precinct where we'll draw the amateurs, you know. "

I saw that Mackay was helping him and so I left cheerfully, making my way as fast as I could toward the door through whichboth Shirley and Millard had passed. 

In the hallway of the building devoted to dressing rooms I foundthat I did not know which one contained Werner's body. Thiscorridor was familiar. Here Kennedy and I had waited for MarilynLoring and had witnessed the scene between Shirley and herself. Now I did not even remember the location of her room. 

At last, on a chance, I tried a door softly. From within camewhispered voices of deep intensity. About to close it quickly, Irealized suddenly that I recognized the speakers in spite of thewhispers. It was Marilyn and Shirley. They were together. Now Irecollected the figured chintz which covered the wall and was tobe seen through the crack made by the open door. It was her room. They had not heard my hand on the knob, nor the catch, did notknow that anyone could eavesdrop. 

"You see!" Her tones were the more vibrant "You waited!"

"I had to!"

"No! I advised you to act at once. "

"I couldn't! I can't even now!"

"All right!" Her tone became bitter. "Go ahead, your own way. Butyou must count the cost. You may lose me again, Merle Shirley. "

"How do you mean?"

Her answer, in the faintest of whispers, staggered me. 

"If you have the blood of another man on your hands I'm through. "

XXII

THE STEM

Though my hands trembled so that I could hardly control them, Imanaged to close the door softly and to back away down the hallwithout being discovered. My head was spinning and I was dizzy. With my own ears I had heard Marilyn Loring virtually betray theguilt of the man she loved and whom therefore she had tried toshield. "If you have the blood of another man on your hands--"What more could Kennedy want?

I started to run toward the studio. Then recollection of myerrand stopped me. Kennedy wished the blood smears and stomachcontents and was anxious to get them before the arrival of thepolice. At first I thought that all such evidence would beunnecessary now, after the dialogue I had overheard, but itstruck me as an afterthought that it might be necessary still toprove Shirley's guilt to the satisfaction of a court and jury, and so I rushed to the next dressing room and to another, until Ilocated the doctor and the body of the dead man. 

With the little package for Kennedy safely in my pocket I hurriedout again into the sweltering heat beneath the glass of the bigstudio, and to the side of Kennedy and Mackay in the banquet-hallset. 

"You have a sample of each article of food now?" he was askingthe district attorney. "You are sure you have missed nothing?"

"As far as possible I took my samples from the table where Wernersat, " Mackay explained. "When the prop. Boy gets here with anempty bottle and cork I'll have a sample of the wine. I thinkit's the wine, " he added. 

Kennedy turned to me. "You've got--"

"In my pocket!" I interrupted. Then, rather breathlessly, Irepeated the conversation I had overheard. 

"Good Lord!" Mackay flushed. "There it is! Shirley's the man, andI'll take him now, quick, without waiting for a warrant. "

"See!" I ejaculated, to Kennedy. "He killed Stella because shemade a fool of him and then, when Werner discovered that andfollowed him to Tarrytown the other night, it probably put him ina panic of fear, and so, to keep Werner from talking--"

"Easy, Walter! Not so fast! What you overheard is insufficientground for Shirley's conviction, unless you could make himconfess, and I doubt you could make him do that. "

"Why?" This was Mackay. 

"Because I don't think he's guilty. At least"--Kennedy, asalways, was cautious in his statements, "not so far as anythingwe now know would indicate. "

"But his anger at Stella, " I protested, "and Marilyn's remark--"'

"Miss Lamar's death was the result of a cool, unfeeling plan, notpique or anger. The same cruel, careful brain executed thissecond crime. "

Mackay, I saw, was three-quarters convinced by Kennedy. "How doyou account for the dialogue Jameson overheard?" he asked. 

"Miss Loring told us that Shirley suspected some one and waswatching, and would not tell her or anyone else who it was. Itseems most likely to me that it is the truth, Mackay. In thatcase her remark means that she believes his silence in a way isresponsible for Werner's death. "

"Oh! If Shirley had taken you into his confidence, for instance--?"

"I might possibly have succeeded in gaining sufficient evidencefor an arrest, thus averting this tragedy. But it is only atheory of mine. "

I scowled. It seemed to me that Kennedy was minimizing things ina way unusual for him. I wondered if he really thought the heavyman innocent. 

"It's still my belief that Shirley is guilty, " I asserted. 

A sound of confusion from the courtyard beneath the heavy studiowindows caught Kennedy's ear and ended the colloquy. From some ofthose near enough to look out we received the explanation. Thepolice had arrived, fully three-quarters of an hour afterWerner's death. 

"I'll get the little bottle of wine, sure, " Mackay murmured, picking up the food samples he had wrapped and crowding the bulkypackage into a pocket. 

"I don't see why that would have been any easier to poison thanthe food, " was my objection. "Everyone was looking. "

"Very simple. The food was brought in quite late. Besides, it wasdished out by the caterer before the eyes of forty or fiftypeople or more and there was no telling which plate would go toWerner's place. The drinks were poured last of all. I rememberseeing the bubbles rise and wondering whether they would registerat the distance. "

Kennedy did not look at me. "Did it ever occur to you, " he wenton, casually, "that the glasses were all set out empty at thevarious places long before, and that there might easily have beena few drops of something, if it were colorless, placed in thebottom of Werner's glass, with scarcely a chance of its beingdiscovered, especially by a man who had so much on his mind atthe time as Werner had? He must have indicated where he would sitwhen he arranged the camera stands and the location of thetables. "

I had not thought of that. 

Kennedy frowned. "If only I could have located more of thatbroken glass!" As he faced me I could read his disappointment. "Walter, I've made a most careful search of his chair and thetable and everything about the space where he dropped. The poisonmust have been in the wine, but there's not a tiny sliver of thatglass left, nothing but a thousand bits ground into the canvas, too small to hold even a drop of the liquid. Just think, a driedstain of the wine, no matter how tiny, might have served me in achemical analysis. "

Very suddenly there was a low exclamation from Mackay. "Look!Quick! Some one must have kicked it way over here!"

Fully twenty feet from Werner's place in the glare of the lightswas the hollow stem of a champagne glass, its base intact savefor a narrow segment. In the stem still were a couple of drops ofthe wine, as if in a bulb or tube. 

"Can it be the director's glass?" Mackay asked, handing it toKennedy. 

Kennedy slipped it into his pocket, fussing with his handkerchiefso that the precious contents would not drip out. "I think so. Idoubt whether any other glass was broken. Verify it quickly. "

The police were entering now with Manton. Following them was thephysician. Mackay and I ascertained readily that no other glasshad been shattered, while Kennedy searched the floor for possiblesigns that the stem was part of a glass broken where we had foundit. Unquestionably we had a sample of the actual wine quaffed bythe unfortunate Werner. Elated we strolled to a corner so as togive the police full charge. 

"They'll waste time questioning everyone, " Kennedy remarked. "Ihave the real evidence. " He tapped his pocket. 

The few moments that he had had to himself had been ample for himto obtain such evidence as was destroyed in so many cases by thetime he was called upon the scene. 

A point occurred to me. "You don't think the poison was plantedlater during the excitement?"

"Hardly! Our criminal is too clever to take a long chance. Insuch a case we would know it was some one near Werner and alsothere would be too many people watching. Foolhardiness is notboldness. "

I took to observing the methods of the police, which were highlyefficient, but only in the minuteness of the examination ofwitnesses and in the care with which they recorded names andfacts and made sure that no one had slipped away to avoid thenotoriety. 

The actors and actresses who had stood rather in awe of Kennedy, both here and in Kennedy's investigation at Tarrytown, developednimble tongues in their answers to the city detectives. Theresult was a perfect maze of conflicting versions of Werner's cryand fall. In fact, one scene shifter insisted that Shirley, asthe Black Terror, had reached Werner's side and had struck himbefore the cry, while an extra girl with a faint lisp describedwith sobering accuracy the flight of a mysterious missile throughthe air. I realized then why Kennedy had made no effort toquestion them. Under the excitement of the scene, the glamour ofthe lights, the sense of illusion, and the stifling heat, itwould have been strange for any of the people to have retainedcorrect impressions of the event. 

The police sergeant knew Kennedy by reputation and approached himafter a visit to the dead man's body with the doctor. His glance, including Mackay and myself, was frankly triumphant. 

"Well, " he exclaimed, "I don't suppose it occurred to any of youSCIENTIFIC guys to search the fellow, now did it?"

Kennedy smiled, in good humor. "Searching a man isn't always thescientific method. You won't find the word 'frisk' in anyscientific dictionary. "

"No?" The police officer's eyes twinkled. There was enough of theIrish in him to enjoy an encounter of this kind. "Maybe not, butyou might find things in a chap's pocket which is better. " With aflourish he produced a hypodermic syringe, the duplicate of theone I had appropriated, and a tiny bottle. "The man's a dope, " headded. 

"I knew that, " replied Kennedy. "I examined his arm, where heusually took his shots, and found no fresh mark of the needle. "

"That doesn't prove anything. Wait until the medical examinergets here. He'll find the fellow's heart all shot full of hop, orsomething. I guess it isn't so complicated, after all. He was ahop fiend, all right. "

"Still, there's nothing to indicate that he was a suicide. "

"Not suicide; accident-overdose, " was the sergeant's reply. 

"How could he have died from an overdose of the drug, when hehasn't taken any recently?"

"Well"--unabashed--"then he croaked because he hadn't had a shot--the same thing. Heart failure, either way. Excited, and all, youknow, making the scene. Maybe he forgot to use the needle atthat. "

"Perhaps you're right. " Kennedy shrugged calmly. What was the useof disputing the matter?

I started to protest against the detective's hypothesis. The ideaof any drug addict ever forgetting to take his stimulant was toopreposterous. But Kennedy checked me. All were now keenlylistening to the argument. Better, perhaps, to let some one thinkthat nothing was suspected than to disclose the cards in Craig'shand. I saw that he wished to get away and had not spokenseriously. He turned to Mackay. 

"Walter and I will have to hurry to the laboratory. Would youlike to come along?"

"You bet I would!" The district attorney showed his delight. "Iwas just going to ask if I might do so. There's nothing for me inTarrytown to-day and this is out of my jurisdiction. "

As we turned away the police sergeant saw us and called acrossthe floor, not quite concealing a touch of professional jealousy. 

"The three of you were here at the time, weren't you?"

"No, " Kennedy answered. "Mr. Jameson and myself. "

"Well, you two, then! You're witnesses and I'll ask you to holdyourself in readiness to appear at the hearing. "

I thought that the policeman was particularly delighted at hisposition to issue orders to Kennedy, and I was angered. AgainCraig held me in check!

"We'll be glad to tell anything we know, " he replied, then addeda little fling, a bit of sarcasm which almost went over theother's head. "That is, " he amended, "as eye-witnesses!"

XXIII

BOTULIN TOXIN

Mackay drove us to the laboratory in his little car and it wasdark and we were dinnerless when we arrived. Knowing Kennedy'shabits, I sent out for sandwiches and started in to make strongcoffee upon an electric percolator. The aroma tingled in mynostrils, reminding me that I was genuinely hungry. The districtattorney, too, seemed more or less similarly disposed. 

As for Kennedy, he was interested in nothing but the problembefore him. He had been strangely quiet on the way, growing moreand more impatient and nervous, as though the element of time hadentered into the case, as though haste were suddenly imperative. Once the lights were on in the laboratory he hurried about hisvarious preparations. The food samples he laid out, but he gavethem no attention. The blood smears and stomach contents he putaside for future reference. His attack was upon the drop or twoof liquid adhering to the stem of the broken champagne glass. 

The entire chemical procedure seemed to be incomprehensible toMackay and he was fascinated, so that he had considerable troubleat times keeping out of the way of Kennedy's elbow. Kennedy firstwashed the stem out carefully with a few drops of distilledwater, then he studied the resulting solution. One after anotherhe tried the things that occurred to him, making tests whollyunproductive of results. Slowly the laboratory table becamelittered completely with chemicals and apparatus of all sorts, averitable arsenal of glass. 

The sandwiches arrived, but Kennedy refused to drop hisinvestigation for a moment. I did succeed in making him take acup of strong coffee, and that was all. Over in a corner Mackayand I did full justice to the food, finishing the hot and welcomecoffee and then refilling the percolator and starting it on themaking of a second brew. The hours lengthened, and when Mackaygrew tired of watching with intense admiration he joined me inthe patient consumption of innumerable cigarettes. 

Kennedy was filled with the joy of discovery. I noticed that hedid not stop even for the solace of tobacco. It seemed to me thatat times his nostrils dilated exactly like those of a hound onthe scent. Finally he held up a test tube and turned to us. 

"What is it?" I asked. "Some other poison as rare and littleknown as the snake venom?"

"No--something much more curious. In the stem of the glass I findthe toxin of the Bacillus botulinus. "

"Germs?" Mackay inquired. 

Kennedy shook his head. "Not germs, but the pure toxin, thepoison secreted by this bacillus. "

"What does it do?" was my question. 

"Well, " thoughtfully, "botulism may be ranked easily among themost serious diseases known to medical science. It is hard tounderstand why it is not a great deal more common. It is one ofthe most dangerous kinds of food poisoning. "

"Then the apple juice they used for the wine was bad, spoiled?"

"No, not that. Werner was the only one stricken. Somebody put thepure toxin in his glass. It was, as I suspected, deliberatemurder, as in the case of Miss Lamar. Bacillus botulinus producesa toxin that is extremely virulent. Hardly more than a ten-thousandth of a cubic centimeter would kill a guinea pig. Thiswas botulin itself, the pure toxin, an alkaloid just like thatwhich is formed in meat and other food products in cases ofbotulism. The idea might also have been to make the death seemnatural--due solely to bad food. "

"Do you suppose it was used because it was quick and wascolorless, so as not to be noticed in the glass?" I hazarded. 

Kennedy paced up and down the laboratory several times inthought. "To me, Walter, this is another indication of thesatanic cleverness of the unknown criminal in the case. FirstMiss Lamar is to be killed. For that purpose something wassought, probably, which could not be traced easily to theperpetrator. In snake venom an agent was employed which may besaid to be almost ideal for the grim business of murder. It isextremely difficult to identify in its results, it iscomparatively unknown, yet it is swift in action and to beobtained with fair ease. 

"Differing from most poisons, it may be inflicted through a prickso slight as to be almost unnoticed by the victim. The scheme offixing the needle in the curtain was so simple and yet soeffective that the guilty person need never have feared itsdiscovery under ordinary circumstances, or its association withthe girl's death, if some one stumbled upon it accidentally. Theidea of returning for the death-dealing point was only one of themany details of a precautionary measure upon which we havestumbled. Had I found it the next morning I would have beenunable, in all probability, to identify it as belonging to or asobtained by any of our suspects. 

"You must realize, Walter, that with all the scientific aids Ihave been able to bring to bear we possess almost no directevidence. There are no fingerprints, no cigarette stubs, no arrayof personal, intimate clues of any sort to this criminal. Theseare the threads which lead the detective to his quarry in fictionand on the stage. Here we lack even the faintest description ofthe man, or woman if that is her sex. It is murder from adistance, planned with almost meticulous care, executed coollyand without feeling or scruple. 

"After the death of Miss Lamar I was not so sure but that theselection of the snake venom was simply the inspiration of aperverted brain, the evolution of the detailed method of killingher--an outgrowth of someone's familiarity with studio life ingeneral, with the script of 'The Black Terror' in particular. NowI realize that we are face to face with the studied handiwork ofa skilled criminal. These two deaths may be his--or her--firstdeparture into the realm of crime. But potentially we have asuper-villain. 

"I make that statement because of the manner of Werner's demise. It is evident that the director stumbled on a clue to themurderer. If my first hypothesis had been correct, if the use ofsnake venom and the unlucky thirteenth scene had been largely amatter of blind chance in the selection of poison and method, then we might have expected Werner to be struck down in some darkstreet, or perhaps decoyed to his death--at the best, inoculatedwith the same crotalin which had killed Miss Lamar. 

"But let us analyze the method used in slaying the director. Ifhe had been blackjacked there would be the clue of the weapon, always likely to turn up, the chance of witnesses, and also thelikelihood in an extreme case that Werner might not die at once, but might talk and give a description of his assailant, or evensurvive. Much the same objections--from the criminal'sstandpoint--obtain in nearly all the accepted modes of killing aman. Even the use of venom a second time possesses thedisadvantage of a certain alertness against the very thing on thepart of the victim. Werner was a dope fiend, fully aware of thepotency of a tiny skin puncture. I'll wager he was on constantguard against any sort of scratch. 

"On the other hand, the few drops of toxin in the glass possessedevery advantage from the unknown's standpoint. It was invisible, and as sure in its action as the venom. Also it was as rare andas difficult to trace. For, remember this. Botulism is foodpoisoning. If I had not found the stem of that glass it would beabsolutely impossible to show that Werner died from anything onearth but bad food. That is why I do not even take time toanalyze the stomach contents. That is why I say we are confrontedby an archscoundrel of highest intelligence and downrightcleverness. More"--Kennedy paused for emphasis--"I realize nowthe presence of a grim, invisible menace. It has just now beendriven home to me. The botulin, with its deadly paralyzing power, sealed Werner's tongue even while he tried to tell me what heknew. "

Mackay was tremendously impressed by Kennedy's explanation. "Doesthis mean, " he asked, "that the guilty man or woman is someoutsider? Those we have figured as possible suspects would hardlyhave this detailed knowledge of poisons. "

"There are two possibilities, " Kennedy answered. "The real personbehind the two murders may have employed some one else to carryout the actual killing, a hypothesis I do not take seriously, or"--again he paused--"this may be a case of some one withintelligence starting out upon his career of crime intelligentlyby reading up on his subject. It is as simple to learn how to usecrotalin or botulin toxin or any number of hundreds of deadlysubstances as it is to obtain the majority of them. In fact, ifpeople generally understood the ease with which whole communitiescould be wiped out, and grasped that it could be done so as toleave virtually no clue to the author of the horror, they mightnot sleep as soundly at night as they do. The saving grace isthat the average criminal is often clever, but almost never trulyscientific. Unfortunately, we have to combat one who possessesthe latter quality to a high degree. "

"What is the invisible menace of which you spoke, Craig?" Iinquired. 

"The possibility of another murder before we can apprehend theguilty person or gain the evidence we need. "

"Good heavens!" I imagine I blanched. "You mean--"

"Werner was struck down, apparently, for no reason but that hehad guessed the identity of the villain. There is a second man inthe company who has certain suspicions and is acting upon them. If he is on the right trail, by any chance--" Kennedy shruggedhis shoulders soberly. 

"Shirley?"

"Exactly! And there is still another possibility. "

"What is that?"

"Here in this laboratory I have blood spots made on the portieresat the house of Phelps by the man who removed the needle, probably the unknown himself, possibly his--or her--agent. In anycase it is a clue and--THE ONLY DIRECT AND INFALLIBLE CLUE INEXISTENCE TO THE CRIMINAL! Also I have the evidence of the snakevenom and of the botulin toxin here. Sooner or later the personwho killed Werner because he suspected things will wake up to thefact that we possess tangible proof against him. "

I grew pale. "You mean, then, that you may be attacked yourself?That even I--"

Kennedy smiled, unafraid. But from the expression in his eyes Iknew that he took the thought of our possible danger veryseriously. 

XXIV

THE INVISIBLE MENACE

Mackay and I exchanged glances. Kennedy busied himself puttingaway some of the more important bits of evidence in the case, placing the tiny tubes of solution, the blood smears, and otheritems together in a cabinet at the farther corner of thelaboratory. The vast bulk of his paraphernalia, the array ofglass and chemicals and instruments, he left on the table for themorning. Then he faced us again, with a smile. 

"Suppose you start up the percolator once more, Walter!" He tooka cigar and lighted it from the match I struck. "I believe I'veearned another cup of coffee, " he added. 

Mackay had been fidgeting considerably since Kennedy'sexplanation of the possible danger to Shirley, as well as toourselves or even to others. 

"Isn't there something we can do, Kennedy?" he exclaimed, suddenly. "Is it necessary to sit back and wait for this unknownto strike again?"

"Ordinarily, " Kennedy replied, "on a case like this it has beenmy custom to permit the guilty parties to betray themselves, asthey will do inevitably--especially when I call to my aid therecent discoveries of science for the detection and measurementof fine and almost imperceptible shades of emotion. But now thatI realize the presence of this menace I shall become a detectiveof action; in fact, I shall not stop at any course to hurrymatters. The very first thing in the morning I shall go to thestudio and I want you and Jameson along. I"--his eyes twinkled;it was the excitement at the prospect--"I may need considerablehelp in getting the evidence I wish. "

"Which is--?" It was I who interposed the question. 

Kennedy blew a cloud of smoke. "There are three ways of tracingdown a crime, aside from the police method of stool pigeons tobetray the criminals and the detective bureau method of cross-examination under pressure, popularly known as the third degree. "

"What are they?" Mackay asked, unaware that Kennedy needed littleprompting once he felt inclined to talk out some matter puzzlinghim. 

"One is the process of reasoning from the possible suspects tothe act itself--in other words, putting the emphasis on themotive. A second is the reverse of the first, involving a studyof the crime for clues and making deductions from the inevitableearmarks of the person for the purpose of discovering hisidentity. The third method, except for some investigations acrossthe water, is distinctly my own, the scientific. 

"In all sciences, " Kennedy went on, warming to his subject, "progress is made by a careful tabulation of proved facts. Thescientific method is the method of exact knowledge. Thus, incrime, those things are of value to us which by an infiniteseries of empiric observations have been established and havebecome incontrovertible. The familiar example, of course, isfingerprints. Nearly everyone knows that no two men have the samemarkings; that the same man displays a pattern which isunchanging from birth to the grave. 

"No less certain is the fact that human blood differs from theblood of animals, that in faint variations the blood of no twopeople is alike, that the blood of any living thing, man orbeast, is affected by various things--an infinite number almost--most of which are positively known to modern medicalinvestigators. 

"In this case my principal scientific clue is the blood left uponthe portiere by the man who took the needle the night followingthe murder. Next in importance is the fact, demonstrated by me, that some one at the studio wiped a hypodermic on a towel afterinoculating himself with antivenin. Of course I am presuming thatthis latter man inoculated himself and not some one else, becauseit is obvious. If necessary I can prove it later, however, byanalyzing the trace of blood. That is not the point. The point isthat whoever removed the needle pricked himself and yet did notdie of the venom--unless it was a person not under ourobservation, an unlikely premise. Therefore, because of this lastfact, and because again it is obvious, I expect to find that thesame individual inoculated himself with antivenin and removed theneedle from the portiere; and I expect to prove it beyondpossibility of doubt by an analysis of his blood. A sample of theblood from this person will be identical with the spot on theportiere, and--much the easier test--will contain traces of theantitoxin. 

"With that much accomplished, a little of the, well--thirddegree, will bring about a confession. It is circumstantialevidence of the strongest sort. Not only does a man takeprecautions against a given poison, but he is proved to be theone who removed the needle actually responsible for Miss Lamar'sdeath. 

"My handicap, however, is that I have no justifiable excuse fortaking a sample of blood from each of the people we suspect, orfeel we might suspect. For that reason I was waiting until one ofthe other detective methods should narrow the field of suspicion. Now that there is the menace of another attempt to take a life Iam forced to act. To-morrow we will get samples of blood fromeveryone by artifice--or force!

"Meanwhile--" He hastened to continue, as though afraid we mightinterrupt to break his train of thought. "Meanwhile, to-night, let us see if it is possible to accomplish something by thedeductive method. 

"Already I have gone into an analysis starting from the nature ofthe crime and reasoning to the type of criminal responsible. Theguilty man--or woman--is a person of high intelligence, added togenuine cleverness. But for the results accomplished in thislaboratory we would be without a clue; our hands would be tiedcompletely. Both Miss Lamar and Werner were killed by unusualpoisons; deadly, and almost impossible to trace. There was acrowd of people about in each case; yet we have no witnesses. Nowwho, out of all our people with possible motives, are intelligentenough and clever enough to be guilty?"

Kennedy glanced first at me, then at Mackay. 

"Manton? Phelps?" suggested the district attorney. 

"The promoter, " Kennedy rejoined, "is the typical man of thebusiness world beneath the eccentricity of manner which seems tocling to everyone in the picture field. Ordinarily his type, thinking in millions of dollars and juggling nickel and dimeadmissions or other routine of commercial detail is apart fromthe finer subtle passions of life. When a business man commitsmurder he generally uses a pistol because he is sure it isefficient--he can see it work. The same applies to Phelps. "

"Millard?" Mackay hesitated now to face the logic of Kennedy'skeen mind. "He was Stella Lamar's husband!"

"Millard is a scenario writer and so apt to have a braincluttered with all sorts of detail of crime and murder. At thesame time an author is so used to counterfeiting emotion in hiswritings that he seldom takes things seriously. Life becomes ajoke and Millard in particular is a butterfly, concerned morewith the smiles of extra girls and the favor of Miss Faye thanthe fate of the woman whose divorce from him was not yetcomplete. A writer is the other extreme from the business man. The creator of stories is essentially inefficient because hetries to feel rather than reason. When an author commits murderhe sets a stage for his own benefit. He is careful to avoidwitnesses because they are inconvenient to dispose of. At thesame time he wants the victim to understand thoroughly what isgoing to happen and so he is apt to accompany his crime with aspeech worded very carefully indeed. Then he may start with anattempt to throttle a person and end up with a hatchet, or he mayplan to use a razor and at the end brain his quarry with a chair. He lives too many lives to follow one through clearly--his own. "

"How about Shirley?" I put in. 

"At first glance Shirley and Gordon suggest themselves becauseboth murders were highly spectacular, and the actor, aboveeverything else, enjoys a big scene. After Werner's death, forinstance, Shirley literally strutted up and down in that set. Hewas so full of the situation, so carried away by the drama of theoccasion, that he failed utterly to realize how suspicious hisconduct would seem to an observer. Unfortunately for ourhypotheses, the use of venom and toxin is too cold-bloodedlyefficient. The theatrical temperament must have emotion. An actorcruel and vicious enough to strike down two people as Miss Lamarand Werner were stricken, of sufficient dramatic make-up toconceive of the manner of their deaths, would want to see themwrithe and suffer. He would select poisons equally rare andeffective, but those more slow and painful in their operation. No, Walter, Shirley is not indicated by this method of reasoning. The arrangement of the scenes for the murders was simply anotherdetail of efficiency, not due to a wish to be spectacular. Thecrowd about in each case has added greatly to the difficulty ofinvestigation. "

"Do you include Gordon in that?" Mackay asked. 

"Yes, and in addition"--Kennedy smiled slightly--"I believe thatGordon is rather stupid. For one thing, he has had several fightsin public, at the Goats Club and at the Midnight Fads and Isuppose elsewhere. That is not the clever rogue. Furthermore, hehad been speculating, not just now and then, but desperately, doggedly. Clever men speculate, but scientific men never. Ourunknown criminal is both clever and intelligent. "

"That brings you to the girls, then, " Mackay remarked. 

Kennedy's face clouded and I could see that he was troubled. "Tobe honest in this one particular method of deduction, " he stated, "I must admit that both Miss Faye and Miss Loring are worthy ofsuspicion. The fact of their rise in the film world, theevidences of their popularity, is proof that they are clever. Miss Loring, in my few brief moments of contact with her on twooccasions, showed a grasp of things and a quickness whichindicate to me that she possesses a rare order of intelligencefor a woman. As for Miss Faye"--again he hesitated--"one littleact of hers demonstrated intelligence. When Shirley was standingguard in the set after Werner's death, and making a fool ofhimself, Millard evidently wanted to get over and speak to him, perhaps to tell him not to let me find him searching the scene asthough his life depended upon it, perhaps something else. ButMiss Faye stopped him. Unquestionably she saw that anyone takingan interest in the remains of the banquet just then would becomean object of suspicion. "

"Do you really suspect Marilyn or Enid?" I inquired. 

"If this were half a generation ago I would say withouthesitation that the crime was the handiwork of a man. But now thewomen are in everything. Young girls particularly--" He shruggedhis shoulders. 

Mackay had one more suggestion. "The camera men, the extras, thetechnical and studio staffs--they are not worthy ofconsideration, are they?"

Kennedy shook his head. 

The odor of coffee struck my nostrils and I turned to find thepercolator steaming. Kennedy leaned over, to take a whiff. Mackayrose. At that moment there was a sudden crash and the window-panewas shattered. Simultaneously a flash of light and a deafeningexplosion took place in the room, scattering broadcast tiny bitsof glass from the laboratory table, splashing chemicals, many ofthem dangerous, over everything. 

Kennedy hurried to the wreck of his paraphernalia. In an instanthe held up a tiny bit of jagged metal. 

"An explosive bullet!" he exclaimed. "An attempt to destroy myevidence!"

XXV

ITCHING SALVE

For once I rose with Kennedy. He preceded me to the laboratoryafter breakfast, however, leaving me to wait for Mackay. When thelittle district attorney arrived I noticed that he carried apackage which looked as though it might contain a one-reel filmcan. 

"The negative we took from the cameras at Tarrytown, " heexplained. "Also a print from each roll, ready to run. I've beenholding this as evidence. Mr. Kennedy wanted me to bring it withme to-day. "

"He's waiting for us at the laboratory, " I remarked. 

"He'll straighten everything up in a hurry, won't he?"

"Kennedy's the most high-handed individual I ever knew, " Ilaughed, "if he sees a chance of getting his man. " Then I becameenthusiastic. "Often I've seen him gather a group of people in aroom, perhaps without the faintest shred of legal right to do so, and there make the guilty person confess simply by marshaling theevidence, or maybe betray himself by some scientific device. It'swonderful, Mackay. "

"Do you think he plans something of that kind this morning?"

I led the way to the door. "After what happened last night I knowthat Kennedy will resort to almost anything. "

The district attorney fingered the package under his arm. "Hemight get everyone in the projection room then, and make themwatch the actual photographic record of Stella's death--the scenewhere she scratched herself--"

"Let's hurry!" I interrupted. 

When we entered the laboratory we found Kennedy vigorouslyfanning a towel which he had hung up to dry. I recognized it asthe one I had discovered in the studio washroom immediatelyfollowing the first murder. 

"This will serve me better as bait than as evidence, " he laughed. "I have impregnated it with a colorless chemical which will clingto the fibers and enable me to identify the most infinitesimaltrace of it. We shall get up to the studio and start, well--Iguess you could call it fishing for the guilty man. " He fingeredthe folds, then jerked the towel down and flung it to me. "Here, Walter! It's dry enough. Now I want you to rub the contents ofthat tiny can of grease, open before you there, into the cloth. "

He hurried over to wash his hands. I spread the towel out on thetable and began to work in the stuff indicated by Kennedy. Therewas no odor and it seemed like some patent ointment in color. Atfirst I was puzzled. Then, absently, I touched the back of onehand with the greasy fingers of the other and immediately anitching set up so annoying that I had to abandon my task. 

Kennedy chuckled. "That's itching salve, Walter. The cuticle padsat your finger tips are too thick, but touch yourself anywhereelse!--" He shrugged his shoulders. "You'd better use soap andwater if you want any relief. Then you can start over again. "

At the basin I thought I grasped his little plot. 

"You're going to plant the towel, " I asked, "so that theinterested party will try to get hold of it?"

Evidently he thought it unnecessary to reply to me. 

"Why couldn't you just put it somewhere without all thepreparation, " Mackay suggested, "and watch to see who came afterit?"

"Because our criminal's too clever, " Kennedy rejoined. "Our onlychance to get it stolen is to make it very plain that it is notbeing watched. Whoever steals it, however, possibly will revealhimself on account of the itching salve. In any case I expect tobe able to trace the towel to the thief, no matter what effortsare made to destroy it. "

The towel was wrapped in a heavy bit of paper; then placed with amicroscope and some other paraphernalia in a small batteredtraveling bag. Climbing into Mackay's little roadster, we soonwere speeding toward the studio. 

"Will you be able to help me, to stay with Jameson and myself allday?" Kennedy asked the district attorney, after perhaps a mileof silence. 

"Surely! It's what I was hoping you'd allow me to do. I have noauthority down here, though. "

"I understand. But the police, or an outsider, might allow someof my plans to become known. " He paused a moment in thought. "Thefilm you brought in with you consists of the scenes on the rollsof negative in use at the time of Miss Lamar's collapse. It mayor may not include the action where she scratched herself. Now Iwant the scenes up to thirteen put together in proper order, first as photographed by one camera, then as caught by the other. I'll arrange for the services of a cutter, and for the deliveryto me of any other negative or positive overlooked by us when wehad the two boxes sealed and given into your custody atTarrytown. Will you superintend the assembly of the scenes, sothat you can be sure nothing is taken out or omitted?"

"Of course! I want to do anything I can. "

Upon arrival at the studio we detected this time all the signs ofa complete demoralization. The death of Werner, the fact that hehad been stricken down during the taking of a scene and on thevery stage, had served to bring the tragedy home to the people. More, it was a second murder in four days, apparently by the samehand as the first. A sense of dread, a nameless, intangible fear, had taken form and found its way under the big blackened glassroofs and around and through the corridors, into the dressingrooms, and back even to the manufacturing and purely technicaldepartments. The gateman eyed us with undisguised uneasiness aswe drove through the archway into the yard. In that inclosurethere were only two cars--Manton's, and one we later learnedbelonged to Phelps. The sole human being to enter our range ofvision was an office boy. He skirted the side of the building asthough the menace of death were in the air, or likely to strikeout of the very heavens without warning. 

We found Kauf in the large studio, obviously unhappy in the shoesof the unfortunate Werner. Probably from half-reasoned-outmotives of efficiency in psychology the new director had made noattempt to resume work at once in the ill-fated banquet set, buthad turned to the companion ballroom setting, since both had beenprepared and made ready at the same time. 

Kennedy explained our presence so early in the morning veryneatly, I thought. 

"I would appreciate it, " he began, "if you could place a cutterat the disposal of Mr. Mackay. He has the scenes taken from thecamera and sealed at the time of Miss Lamar's death. I would liketo have any other film taken out there delivered to him and thewhole joined in proper sequence. Then, Mr. Kauf, if you couldarrange to have the same cutter take the film exposed yesterdaywhen Mr. Werner--"

"You think you might be able to see something, to discoversomething on the screen?"

"Exactly!"

Kauf beamed. "Mr. Manton gave me orders to assist you in everyway I could, or to put any of my people at your disposal. Morethan that, Mr. Kennedy, he anticipated you. He thought you mightwant to look at the scenes taken yesterday and he rushed thelaboratory and the printing room. We'll be able to fix you upvery quickly. "

"Good!" Kennedy nodded to Mackay and the district attorneyhurried off with Kauf. "Now, Walter!" he exclaimed, sobering. 

I picked up the traveling bag and together we strolled toward theballroom set. There most of the players were gathered already--inmake-up and evening clothes of a fancier sort even than thosedemanded for the banquet. I saw that Kennedy singled out Marilyn. 

"Good morning, " she said, cheerfully, but with effort. It wasobvious she had spent a nervous night. There were circles underher eyes ill concealed by the small quantity of cosmetic sheused. Her hands, shifting constantly, displayed the loss of herusual poise. "You are out bright and early, " she added. 

"We've stumbled into a very important clue, " Kennedy told her, with a show of giving her his confidence. "In that bag inWalter's hand is one of the studio towels. It contains a hint ofthe poison used to kill Miss Lamar and--of utmost consequence--ithas provided me with an infallible clue to the identity of themurderer himself--or herself. "

It seemed to me that Marilyn blanched. "Where--where did you findit?" she demanded, in a very awed voice. 

"In one of the studio washrooms. "

"It has been--it has been in the washroom ever since poorStella's death?"

"No, not that! Jameson discovered it the same day but"--the veryslight pause was perceptible to me; Kennedy hated to lie--"Ihaven't realized its importance until just this morning. "

Enid Faye, seeing us from a distance, conquered her dislike ofMarilyn sufficiently to join us. She was very erect and tense. Her eyes, wide and sober and searching, traveled from my face toKennedy's and back. Then she dissembled, softening as she cameclose to me, laying a hand on my shoulder and allowing her skirtto brush my trousers. 

"Tell me, Jamie, " she whispered, her warm breath thrilling methrough and through. "Has the wonderful Craig Kennedy discoveredsomething?" It was not sarcasm, but assumed playfulness, maskinga throbbing curiosity. 

"I found a towel in one of the studio washrooms, " I answered, "and Craig has demonstrated that it is a clue to the poison whichkilled Stella Lamar as well as to the person who did it. "

Enid gasped. Then she drew herself up and her eyes narrowed. Nowshe faced Kennedy. 

"How can the towel be a clue to the crime?" she protested. "Stella was--was murdered way out in Tarrytown! Mr. Jameson foundthe towel here!"

Kennedy shrugged his shoulders. "I cannot tell you that--justyet. " He paused deliberately. "You see, " he lied. "I have yet tomake my analysis. "

"But you know it's a clue to the--"

"That towel"--he raised his voice, as though in elation--"thattowel will lead me to the murderer--infallibly!"

Merle Shirley had come up in time to hear most of the colloquybetween Enid and Kennedy. At the last he flushed, clenching hisfists. 

"If you can prove who the murderer is, Mr. Kennedy, " he exploded, "why don't you apprehend him before some one else meets the fateof Werner?"

"I can do nothing until I return to my laboratory this afternoon. I will not know the identity of the guilty person until Icomplete a chemical analysis. "

One by one the various people possibly concerned in the twocrimes joined the group. This morning all the faces were serious;most of them showed the marks of sleeplessness following thesecond murder. Kennedy walked away, but I saw that Jack Gordonhastened to question both the girls, ignoring their evidentdislike for him. Among the others I recognized Watkins, thecamera man, and his associate. Lawrence Millard came in andhastened to the side of Enid. As he drew her away to ask thecause of the gathering I wondered at his early presence. Thescenario writer was typical of them all. The strange and unusualnature of the crimes, the evident relationship between them, haddrawn the employees of Manton Pictures to the studio as a crowdof baseball fans collects before a public bulletin board. Not oneof them but was afraid of missing some development in the case. In no instance could the interest of a particular individual betaken as an indication of guilt. 

Phelps entered the studio from the door to the dressing rooms. Disdaining to join the other group, he approached us to ask thecause for the excitement. Kennedy explained, patiently, and I sawthat Phelps looked at the black bag uneasily. 

"I hope the guilty party is not a member of the company, " hemuttered. 

"Why?" Kennedy's mouth tightened. 

The financier grew red. "Because this picture has been crippledenough. First a new star; now a new director--if it wasn't sopreposterous I'd believe that it was all part of a deliberate--"He stopped as if realizing suddenly the inadvisability of vagueaccusations. 

"Don't you want justice done?" Kennedy inquired. 

"Of course!" Phelps tugged at his collar uncomfortably. "Ofcourse, Mr. Kennedy. " Then he turned and hurried away, out of thestudio. 

Gordon and Millard detached themselves from the others, comingover. 

"In which washroom was the towel found, Mr. Kennedy?" Gordon putthe question as though he felt himself specially delegated toobtain this information. 

I wondered how Kennedy would evade a direct answer. To mysurprise he made no attempt at concealment. 

"The one on the second floor of the office building. "

Millard laughed, facing Gordon. "That puts it on myself--or thebig boss!"

It struck me that the leading man was uneasy as he hurried backto the others. Millard, still smiling, turned to say something tous, but we were joined by Manton, entering from the other end ofthe big inclosure. 

"Good morning, " the promoter exclaimed, somewhat breathless. "Ijust learned you were here. Is--is there some new development. Isthere something I can do?"

"I see you are not allowing anything to interfere with the makingof the picture, " Kennedy remarked. "All the people seem to behere bright and early. "

A shadow crept into Manton's face. "It seems almost as cold-blooded as--as war, " he admitted. "But I can't help myself, Mr. Kennedy. The company has no money and if we don't meet thisrelease we're busted. " All at once he lowered his voice eagerly. "Tell me, have you discovered something? Is there some clue tothe guilty man?"

"He's found a towel, " Millard put in, an expression of halfamusement on his face as he faced the promoter. "In some way it'sa clue to the identity of the murderer, an infallible clue, hesays. He found it in the washroom by our offices. Since Werner isdead, that points the finger of suspicion at you or me. "

Manton's jaw dropped. His expression became almost ludicrous, asif the thought that he could possibly be suspected himself wasnew to him. Millard's eyes sobered a bit at his superior'sconfusion. 

"There's a door from the dressing rooms, " Kennedy suggested. "Anyof the actors or actresses could have used the place. "

"Of course!" Manton grasped at the straw. "I had forgotten. Therehave been complaints to me about the players using that room. "

"I have the towel with me, wrapped up in a paper in this grip, "Kennedy went on. "It's so very valuable as a bit of evidence--Iwonder if I could borrow a locker so as to keep it under lock andkey until we're ready to return to the laboratory?"

"Sure! Of course!" Manton glanced about and saw the little knotof people still gathered in the set. "Millard! Go over and tellKauf to get busy. He's losing time. " Then he turned to us again. "Come on, Mr. Kennedy, we have some steel lockers out by theproperty room. "

As we started across the floor I could see that Kennedy wasframing a question with great care. 

"Do you ever use snakes in films, Mr. Manton?" he asked. 

"Why, no!" The promoter stopped in his surprise. "That is, not ifwe ever can help it. The censorship won't pass anything withsnakes. "

"You have used them, though?"

"Yes. Once we made a short-length special subject, nothing butsnakes. " Manton became enthusiastic. "It was a wonder, too; a petfilm of mine. We made it with the direct co-operation andsupervision of the greatest authority on poisonous snakes in thecountry, Doctor Nagoya of Castleton Institute. "

XXVI

A CIGARETTE CASE

Kennedy's face betrayed only a remote interest. "Have you anycopies of that particular film?"

"Just the negative, I believe. "

"Could I have that for a few days?"

"Of course!" Manton seemed to wish to give us every possibleamount of co-operation; yet this request puzzled him. "Would youcare to go down to the negative vaults with me?"

Kennedy nodded. 

First we stopped in a lengthy corridor in the rear building, where there were no great signs of life. Through a door I couldsee a long room filled with ornaments, pictures, furniture, rugs, and all the vast freak collections of a property room. Along theside of the hallway itself was a line of steel lockers of recentdesign. 

Manton called out to an employee and he appeared after a longwait and unlocked one of them. At Kennedy's direction I put thetraveling bag in the lower compartment, pocketing the key. Thenwe retraced our steps to broad steel stairs leading up and down. We descended to the basement and found ourselves in a high-ceilinged space immaculately clean and used generally for storagepurposes. 

"The film vaults, " Manton explained, "are at the corner of thewest wing. They have to be ventilated specially, on account ofthe high inflammability of the celluloid composition. Since thegreatest fire risk, otherwise, is the laboratory and printingdepartments, and next to that the studios themselves with thescenery, the heat of the lights, the wires, etc. , we have locatedthem in the most distant corner of the quadrangle. The negative, you see, represents our actual invested capital to a considerableextent. The prints wear out and frequently large sections aredestroyed and have to be reprinted. Then sometimes we can reissueold subjects. All in all we guard the negative with the care abank would give actual funds in its vaults. "

In our many visits to the Manton studios I had been struck by thescrupulous cleanliness of every part of the place. The impressionof orderliness came back to me with redoubled force as we madeour way around in the basement. Nothing seemed out of its properposition, although a vast amount of various material for picturemaking was stored here. We passed two projection rooms, one aminiature theater with quite a bit of comfort, the other smalland bare for the use of directors and cutters. 

Finally we saw the vaults ahead of us. The walls were concrete, matching the actual walls of the basement. There were twoentrances and the doors were double, of heavy steel, arranged sothat an air space would give protection in case of fire. At aroll-top desk, arranged for the use of the clerk in charge of thenegatives and prints, was a young boy. 

"Where's Wagnalls?" demanded Manton. 

"He went out, sir, " the boy replied, respectfully enough. "Saidhe would be right back and for me to watch and not to letanything get out. "

The promoter led the way into the first room. Here on all foursides and in several rows down the center, like the racks in apublic library, were shelves supporting stacks of square thinmetal boxes or trays with handles and tightly fitting covers. Cards were secured to the front of each, by clamps, giving thename of the picture and the number under which the film wasfiled. I was surprised because I expected to find everything keptin ordinary round film cans. 

"These are the negatives, " Manton explained. He pulled out a boxat random, opening it. "The negative is not all spliced together, the same length as the reels of positive, because the printingmachines are equipped to take two-hundred-foot pieces at a time, or approximate fifths of a reel, the size of a roll of rawpositive film stock. Then whenever there is a change in color, asfrom amber day that to blue tint for night, the negative isbroken because pieces of different coloring have to go throughdifferent baths, and that also determines the size of the rolls. The prints, or positives, in the other vaults, are in reellengths and so are kept in the round boxes in which they areshipped. "

Kennedy glanced about curiously. "The negative of that snakepicture is here, you said?"

Manton went to a little desk where there was a card index. Thumbing through the records, he found the number and led us tothe proper place in the rack. In the box were only two rolls ofnegative, both were large. 

"This was a split reel, " the promoter began. "It wasapproximately four hundred feet and we used it to fill out ashort comedy, a release we had years ago, a reel the first partof which was educational and the last two-thirds or so a roaringslap-stick. We never made money on it. 

"But this stuff was mighty good, Mr. Kennedy. We practicallywrote a scenario for those reptiles. Doctor Nagoya was downhimself and for the better part of a day it wasn't possible toget a woman in the studio, for fear a rattler or something mightget loose. "

"Were there rattlers in the film?"

"Altogether, I think. The little Jap was interesting, too. Between scenes he told us all about the reptiles, and how theirpoison--" Manton checked himself, confused. Was it because thethought of poison reminded him of the two deaths so close to him, or was it from some more potent twinge of conscience? "You'll seeit all in the film, " he finished, lamely. 

"I may keep these for a little bit?" Kennedy asked. 

"Of course! I can have the two rolls printed and developed anddry sometime this afternoon, if you wish. "

"No, this will do very well. "

Kennedy slipped a roll in each pocket, straining the cloth to getthem in. Manton opened a book on the little table, making anentry of the delivery of the rolls and adding his own initials. 

"I have to be very careful to avoid the loss of negative, " hetold us. "Nothing can be taken out of here except on my ownpersonal order. "

I thought that Manton was very frank and accommodating. Surely hehad made no effort to conceal his knowledge of this film madewith Doctor Nagoya, and he had even mentioned the poison of therattlesnakes. Though it had confused him for a brief moment, thathad not struck me as a very decisive indication of guiltyknowledge. After all, no one knew of the use of crotalin to killStella Lamar except the murderer himself, and Kennedy and thoseof us in his confidence. The murderer might not guess thatKennedy had identified the venom. Yet if Manton were that man hehad covered his feelings wonderfully in telling us about thefilm. 

My thoughts strayed to the towel upstairs. Had an attempt beenmade yet to steal it from the locker? It seemed to me that wewere losing too much time down here if we hoped to notice anyonewith itching hands. 

I realized that Kennedy had been very clever in including all oursuspects in hearing at the time he revealed the importance of theclue. Of the original nine listed by Mackay, Werner was dead andMrs. Manton had never entered the case. Enid we had assumed to bethe mysterious woman in Millard's divorce, however, and the othersix had all been upon the floor in contact with Kennedy. Firstthere was Marilyn, the woman. Then the five men in order haddisplayed a lively interest in the towel--Shirley, Gordon, Millard, Phelps, and Manton. 

Kennedy's voice roused me from my reverie. 

"Does this door lead through to the other vaults, Mr. Manton?"

"Yes. " The promoter straightened, after replacing the records ofthe negative. "I designed this system of storage myself andsuperintended every detail of construction. It is--" He checkedhimself with an exclamation, noticing that the door was open. With a flush of anger he slammed it shut. 

"I should think the connecting doors would be kept shut all thetime, " Kennedy remarked. "In case of fire only one compartmentwould be a loss. "

"That's the idea exactly! That's why I was on the point ofswearing. The boys down here are getting lax and I'm going tomake trouble. " Manton turned back and called to the boy outside. "Where did you say Wagnalls went?"

"I don't know, sir! Sometimes he goes across to McCann's for acup of coffee, or maybe he went up to the printing department. "

Manton faced us once more. "If you'll excuse me just a moment I'mgoing to see who's responsible for this. Why, " he sputtered, "ifyou hadn't called me around the rack I wouldn't have noticed thatthe door was open and then, if there had been a fire--I--I'll beright back!"

As Manton stormed off Kennedy smiled slightly, then nodded for meto follow. We passed through into the rooms for positive storage. These in turn had fireproof connecting doors, all of which wereopen. In each case Kennedy closed them. Eventually we emergedinto the main part of the basement through the farther vaultdoor. Nothing of a suspicious nature had caught our attention. Iguessed that Kennedy simply had wished to cover the carelessnessof the vault man in leaving the inner doors wide open. 

At the entrance which had first admitted us to the negative room, however, Kennedy stooped suddenly. At the very moment he bentforward I caught the glint of something bright behind the heavysteel door, and in the shadow so that it had escaped us before. As he rose I leaned over. It was a cigarette case, a veryhandsome one with large initials engraved with deep skillfulflourish. 

"Who is 'J. G. '?" Kennedy asked. 

I felt a quiver of excitement. "Jack Gordon, the leading man. "

"What's an actor doing down in the film vaults?" he muttered. 

Slipping the case into his pocket, he glanced about on the floorand something just within the negative room caught his eye. Oncemore he bent down. With a speculative expression he picked up thecork-tipped stub of a cigarette. 

At this instant Manton returned, breathing hard as though hispursuit of the missing Wagnalls had been very determined. Thebutt in Kennedy's fingers attracted his attention at once. 

"Did--did you find that here?" he demanded. 

Kennedy pointed. "Right there on the floor. "

"The devil!" Manton flushed red. "This is no place to smoke. By--by all the wives of Goodwin and all the stars of Griffith I'mgoing to start firing a few people!" he sputtered. "Here, sonny!"He jumped at the boy, frightening him. "Close all these doors andturn the combinations. Tell Wagnalls if he opens them before hesees me I'll commit battery on his nose. "

Kennedy continued to hold the stub, and as Manton preceded us upthe stairs he hung back, comparing it with the few cigarettesleft in the case. Unquestionably they were of the same brand. 

On the studio floor Mackay was waiting for us. Under his arm wasa reel of film in a can. He clutched it almost fondly. 

"All ready!" he remarked, to Kennedy. 

Kennedy's face was unrevealing as he faced Manton. "This bit offilm is valuable evidence also. I think perhaps it would be saferin that locker. "

"Anything at all we can do to help, " stated Manton, promptly. "Shall I show you the way again?"

I produced the key, handing it to Kennedy as the four of usarrived in the corridor by the property room. Kennedy slipped thebit of metal into the lock; then simulated surprise very wellindeed. 

"The lock is broken!" he exclaimed. "Some one has been here. "

Apparently the traveling bag had been undisturbed as we took itout. Nevertheless, the paper containing the towel was gone. 

"This is no joke, Mr. Kennedy, " protested Manton, in indignation. "Where can I hire about a dozen good men to hang around andwatch--and--and help you get to the bottom of this?"

Mackay, without releasing his grasp of the film, had beeninspecting the broken lock. 

"Look at the way this was done!" he murmured, almost inadmiration. "This wasn't the work of any roughneck. It--it was adainty job!"

XXVII

THE FILM FIRE

The bag lay open at my feet. The microscope and otherparaphernalia brought by Kennedy were untouched. Taking the filmfrom Mackay and placing the can in with the other things, Kennedysnapped the catch and turned to me as he straightened. 

"I think our evidence is safest in plain sight, Walter. We'llcarry it about with us. "

Lloyd Manton seemed to be a genuinely unhappy individual. Aftersome moments he excused himself, nervously anxious about the turnof affairs at the studio. Immediately I faced Kennedy and Mackay. 

"Manton's the only one who knew just where we put the bag, " Iremarked. "When he left us in the basement he had plenty of timeto run up and steal the towel and return. "

"How about the itching salve?"

"In his hurry he might have left the towel in the paper, intending to destroy it later. "

Kennedy frowned. "That's possible, Walter. I had not thought ofthat. Still"--he brightened--"I'm counting on human nature. Idon't believe anyone guilty of the crime could have that towel inhis possession, after the hints I have thrown out, withoutexamining it so as to see what telltale mark or stain would beapt to betray his identity. "

"You can see that Manton's the logical man?"

"It would be easy for anyone else to follow and observe us. "

"Then--?"

"First of all we must keep an eye out for any person showingsigns of the itching concoction. We must observe anyone withnoticeably clean hands. Principally, however, another thingworries me. "

"What's that, Mr. Kennedy?" asked Mackay. 

"Walter and I found a cigarette case belonging to Jack Gordon inthe basement; also a butt smoked three-quarters of the way downand left directly in the negative room. The fire doors betweenthe different film vaults, which are arranged like the safetycompartments in a ship, were all open. I want to know why Gordonwas down there and--well, I seem to sense something wrong. "

"Good heavens! Craig, " I interposed. "You don't attach anyimportance to the fact that those doors were open!"

"Walter, in a case of real mystery the slightest derangement ofmatters of ordinary routine is a cause for suspicion. "

I had no answer, and as we re-entered the studio I devoted myattention to the various people we had tabulated as possiblesuspects, noticing that Kennedy and Mackay did likewise. 

Jack Gordon was in the ballroom scene in make-up. Kauf still wasconcerned with technical details of the set and lighting, and, although the cameras were set up, they were not in proper place, nor was either camera man in evidence. With Gordon was Enid. Froma distance they seemed to be engaged in an argument of realmagnitude. There was no mistaking the dislike on the part of eachfor the other. 

Marilyn was the most uneasy of all of the principals. She waspacing up and down, glancing about in frank distress of mind. Ilooked at her hands and saw that she had crushed a tube of greasepaint in her nervousness. Not only her fingers were soiled, butthere were streaks on her arms where she had smeared herselfunconsciously. As we watched she left the studio, hurrying outthe door without a backward glance. Marilyn, at least, showed noindications of the salve, nor of painfully recent acquaintancewith water. 

Both Manton and Phelps were in evidence, decidedly so, Iimagined, from, the viewpoint of poor Kauf. Manton, at the heelsof his new director, was doing all he could to help. Phelps, following Manton about, seemed to be urging haste upon thepromoter. The result was far from advantageous to picture making;it was concentrated distraction. 

Millard was poring over the manuscript, perched upon a chair thewrong way so that its back would serve as a desk, engaged busilyin making changes here and there in the pages with a pencil. Likeany author, it was never too late for minor improvements andsuggestions. I don't doubt but that if Manton had permitted it, Millard would have been quite apt to interrupt a scene in thetaking in order to add some little touch occurring to him as hisaction sprang to life in the interpretation of players anddirector. At any rate, his hands seemed more clean than those ofeither Manton or Phelps, proving nothing because he was at atask not so apt to bring him into contact with dirt. 

"Shirley is missing, " observed the district attorney, in anundertone. 

Kennedy faced me. "Give the bag to Mackay, Walter. While he keepsan eye on the people up here we'll pay a visit to Shirley'sdressing room, and after that go down to the basement again. Ican't account for it--intuition, perhaps--but I'm suresomething's wrong. "

The heavy man's dressing room, pointed out to us by some employeepassing through the hall, was empty. I led the way into Marilyn'squarters, but again no one was about. In each case Kennedy made aquick visual search for the towel, without result. We did notdare linger and run the risk of giving away our trick; then, too, Kennedy was nervously anxious to look through the basement oncemore. 

"I don't understand your suspicion of the state of affairs in thefilm vaults, " I confessed. 

"Why should Jack Gordon, the leading man, be down there?" hecountered. 

"That--that really is a cause for suspicion, isn't it. "

"Now, Walter, think a bit!" We were crossing the yard, and so notapt to be overheard. "Granting that Gordon actually had been downthere, why should the fact concern us? Manton explained that nonegative or positive can be given out except upon order. There isnothing down there but film and so no other errand to bring theleading man to the vault except to get some scenes or piecesshowing his own work, and that isn't likely. "

"Unless, " I interrupted, "Gordon is the guilty man and wanted toget the snake film before we did. "

"How could that be? When we asked Manton about the Doctor Nagoyasubject we went right down with him and procured it. I doubtanyone could have overheard us as we talked about it, in anycase. "

"Remember, Craig, we went to the locker first and it was somelittle time before that fellow came out to unlock it and give usthe key. And when you questioned Manton we were passing right byall of them. Any one could have heard the mention of the snakefilm. "

Kennedy frowned. "I believe you're right, Walter. Or it ispossible that the guilty person believed that the scenes takenout at Tarrytown, or those taken when Werner died, revealedsomething and so would have to be stolen or destroyed, and thatthey were kept in the vault. It is even possible"--a gleam cameinto Kennedy's eyes--"it is even possible that the mind smartenough to reason out the damaging nature of the chemical analysesI was making, and clever enough to utilize an explosive bullet inan effort to destroy the fruits of my work, would also have theforesight to anticipate me and to realize that I might guess theexistence of a film showing snakes and suggesting the use ofvenom. "

"It's damning to Gordon, all right, " I said. 

"On the contrary, Walter. " Kennedy lowered his voice as weentered the building across the quadrangle and descended stairsleading directly into the basement. "We have mentioned over andover again the cleverness of our unknown criminal. That man, orwoman, never would drop a cigarette case with his or her initialsand leave without it, nor smoke a cigarette in a place he, orshe, was not supposed to be. "

"What then?"

"It's a plant; a deliberate plant to throw suspicion uponGordon. "

"Why upon Gordon?"

"I don't know that, unless because Gordon is supposed to have thebest possible motive for killing Miss Lamar--his money troubles--and so becomes the logical man to throw the guilt upon. "

"As a matter of fact, Craig, why should the finding of thatcigarette case be a cause for suspicion at all? That's what Ididn't understand before. "

"Ordinarily it wouldn't be. But those open inner doors, theabsence of the man in charge--isn't it possible that weinterrupted an attempt not only to search for the particulardamaging pieces of film, but perhaps to destroy the whole? Ifsome one acted between the time I asked Manton. About the snakefilm and the moment we arrived in the basement to get it, thatsome one had to move very fast. "

"In which case it might have been Gordon, after all. Thecigarette stub may have been thrown in lighted to start a fire. He may not have had time to pick up the case, not knowing justwhere he dropped it. "

Kennedy shrugged his shoulders. "It all shows the futility oftrying to arrive at a conclusion without definite facts. That iswhere science is superior to deduction. "

"It's all a maze to me just now, " I agreed. 

We made our way to the vaults in silence, and, to our surprise, found that they were closed and that even the boy was gone now. The cellar, as a whole, probably for the purpose of fireprotection on a larger scale, was divided into sectionscorresponding to the units of the buildings above, and this timeI noticed that the door through which we had arrived before wasclosed also. Had Manton taken fright in earnest at thepossibility of fire, or had he given his employees a genuinescare?

We retraced our steps to the yard, and there the alert eye ofKennedy detected a slinking figure just as a man darted into theprotection of a doorway. It was Shirley. Had he been watching us?Was he connected in some way with the vague mystery Kennedyseemed to sense in connection with the basement and the filmvaults?

Kennedy led the way to the entrance where Shirley haddisappeared. Here there was no sign of him; only steps leading upand down and the open door to a huge developing room. Returningto the yard, we caught a gesture from the chauffeur of a carstanding near by and recognized McGroarty, the driver who hadfound the ampulla a few days previously. 

"Excuse me, Mr. Kennedy, " he apologized, as we approached. "Ishould have come to you instead of making you two walk over tome, but it's less suspicious this way. "

"What do you mean?"

"You recognize me, McGroarty, the chauffeur as found the littlebottle?"

Kennedy nodded. 

"Well, I says to myself I ought to tell you, but I don't like tobecause it might be nothing, you know!"

"It might prove very valuable, McGroarty. " Kennedy wanted toencourage him. 

"Well, I've been sitting here for an hour, I guess. One of theother directors is going out to-day and his people are late andso here I am. Well, I don't like the way the heavy man Mr. Wernerhad--"

"Shirley? Merle Shirley?" I spoke up. 

"That's him! Well, he's been, hanging and snooping around thatbuilding over there, where you just saw him, for twenty minutesor more. I guess he's gone in and out of that basement a dozentimes. I says to myself, maybe he's up to something. You know howit is?"

Kennedy glanced at me significantly. Then he extended his hand tothe chauffeur. "Again I thank you, McGroarty. As I said before, Iwon't forget you. "

"Now what?" I asked, as we drew away. 

"Shirley's dressing room, and the studio floor and Mackay. "

As we rather expected, the heavy man's quarters were deserted. Ithought that Kennedy would stop now to make a careful search, buthe seemed anxious to compare notes with the district attorney. 

"Nothing here, " reported Mackay. 

"Shirley?"

"Hasn't been a sign of him. "

I looked about the moment we arrived under the big glass roof. "Marilyn Loring?" I inquired. 

"She's been missing, too!" All at once Mackay grinned broadly. "You know, either there's no efficiency in making moving picturesat all, or these people have all gone more or less out of theirheads as the result of the two tragedies. Look!" He pointed. "When you left me Phelps and Manton were stepping on each other'stoes, trying to help that new director and about half driving himcrazy; and now Millard seems to have figured out some new way ofhandling the action and he's over in the thick of it. It's worsethan Bedlam, and better than a Chaplin comedy. "

I was compelled to smile, although I knew that this was notuncommon in picture studios. Manton, Phelps, Millard, and Kaufwere in the center of the group, all talking at once. Clusteredabout I saw Enid and Gordon, both camera men, and a miniature mobof extra people. But as I looked little Kauf seemed to come tothe end of his patience. In an instant or two he demonstratedreal generalship. Shutting up Manton and the banker and Millardwith a grin, but with sharp words and a quick gesture whichshowed that he meant it, he called to the others gathered about, clearing the set of all but Enid and Gordon. He sent the cameramen to their places; then confronted Phelps and Manton and thescenario writer once more. We could not hear his words, but couldsee that he was asserting himself, was forcing a decision so thathe could proceed with his work. 

This seemed uninteresting to me. I remembered my success in myvisit to Werner's apartment, when I had essayed the role ofdetective. 

"Listen, Kennedy!" I suggested. "Suppose I go out by myself andsee if I can locate Shirley or Marilyn. Everyone else is righthere where you can--"

At that instant a deafening explosion shook the studio and everybuilding about the quadrangle, the sound echoing and re-echoingwith the sharpness of a terrific thunderclap. 

Mixed with the reverberations, which were intensified by the higharch of the studio roof, were the screams of women and thefrightened calls of men. Following immediately upon the firstroar were the muffled sounds of additional explosions, persistingfor a matter of ten to fifteen seconds. 

With every detonation the floor beneath our feet trembled androcked. Several flats of scenery stacked against a wall at ourrear toppled forward and struck the floor with a resoundingwhack, not unlike some gigantic slap-stick. One entire side ofthe banquet set, luckily unoccupied, fell inward and I caught thesound as the dainty gold chairs and fragile tables snapped andwere crushed as so much kindling wood. 

Then--a fitting climax of destruction, withheld until thismoment--there followed the terrifying snap of steel from above. An entire section of roof literally was popped from place, theresult of false stresses in the beams created by the explosion. Upon the heads of the unlucky group in the center of the ballroomset came a perfect hailstorm of broken and shattered bits ofheavy ground glass. 

For an instant, an exceedingly brief instant, there was theillusion of silence. The next moment the factory siren rose to ashrill shriek, with a full head of steam behind it--the firecall!

Kennedy dashed over to the scene where those beneath the showerof glass lay, dazed and uncertain of the extent of their owninjuries. 

"Where are the first-aid kits?" he shouted. "Bring cotton andbandages, and--and telephone for a doctor, an ambulance!"

It seemed to me that Kennedy had never been so excited. Mackayand I, at his heels, and some of the others, unhurt, hurriedlyhelped the various victims to their feet. 

Then we realized that by some miracle, some freak of fate, no onehad been hurt seriously. Already a property boy was at Kennedy'sside with a huge box marked prominently with the red cross. Inside was everything necessary and Kennedy started to bind upthe wounds with all the skill of a professional physician. 

"Mackay, " he whispered, "hurry and get me some envelopes, or somesheets of paper, anything--quick!" And to me, before I couldgrasp the reason for that puzzling request: "Don't let anyoneslip away, Walter. No matter what happens, I must bind up thesewounds myself. "

A few moments later I understood what Kennedy was up to. As hefinished with each victim he took some bit of cotton or gauzewith which he had wiped their cuts, enough blood to serve him inchemical analysis, and handed it to Mackay. The districtattorney, very unobtrusively, slipped each sample into a separateenvelope, sealing it, and marking it with a hieroglyph which hewould be able to identify later. In this fashion Kennedy securedblood smears of Manton and Phelps, Millard and Kauf and Enid, Gordon, the two camera men, and a scene shifter. I smiled tomyself. 

Meanwhile a bitter, acrid odor penetrated through the windows andto every part of the structure, the odor of burning film, an odorone never forgets to fear. All those uninjured in the explosionshad rushed out to see the fire, or else to escape from anyfurther danger, the moment they recovered their wits. Manton, only cut at the wrist, and impatient as Kennedy cleaned, dusted, and bound the wound, was the first to receive attention. 

"The vaults!" he called, to the men who seemed disposed to lingerabout. "For God's sake get busy!" The next instant he was gonehimself. 

Enid was cut on the head. Tears streamed from her eyes as sheclung to Kennedy's coat, trembling. "Will it make a scar?" shesobbed. "Will I be unable to act before the camera any more?"

He reassured her. In the case of Millard, who had several badscalp wounds, he advised a trip to a doctor, but the scenariowriter laughed. Phelps was yellow. It seemed to me that hewhimpered a bit. Gordon was disposed to swear cheerfully, although a point of glass had penetrated deep in his shoulder andanother piece had gashed him across the forehead. 

Finally Kennedy was through. He packed the little envelopes inthe bag, still in the possession of Mackay, and added the tworolls of film from his pocket. Then, for the first time, helocked it. 

As he straightened, his eyes narrowed. 

"Now for Shirley, " he muttered. 

"And Marilyn, " I added. 

XXVIII

THE PHOSPHORUS BOMB

We rushed out into the courtyard, Kennedy in the lead, Mackaytrailing with the bag. Here there were dense clouds of fine whitesuffocating smoke mixed with steam, and signs of the utmostconfusion on every hand. Because Manton, fortunately, had trainedthe studio staff through frequent fire drills, there was asemblance of order among the men actually engaged in fighting thespread of the blaze. Any attempt to extinguish the conflagrationin the vault itself was hopeless, however, and so the workerscontented themselves with pouring water into the basement oneither side, to keep the building and perhaps the other vaultscool, and with maintaining a constant stream of chemical mixturefrom a special apparatus down the ventilating system into andupon the smoldering film. 

The studio fire equipment seemed to be very complete. There waswater at high pressure from a tank elevated some twenty to thirtyfeet above the uppermost roof of the quadrangle. In additionManton had invested in the chemical engine and also in sandcarts, because water aids rather than retards the combustion offilm itself. I noticed that the promoter was in direct charge ofthe fire-fighters, and that he moved about with a zeal and arecklessness which ended for once and all in my mind thesuspicion that Phelps might be correct and that Manton sought towreck this company for the sake of Fortune Features. 

In an amazingly quick space of time the thing was over. When thecity apparatus arrived, after a run of nearly three miles, therewas nothing for them to do. The chief sought out Manton, toaccompany him upon an inspection of the damage and to make surethat the fire was out. The promoter first beckoned to Kennedy. 

"This is unquestionably of incendiary origin, " he explained tothe chief. "I want Mr. Kennedy to see everything before it isdisturbed, so that no clue may be lost or destroyed. "

The fire officer brightened. "Craig Kennedy?" he inquired. "Gee!there must be some connection between the blaze and the murder ofStella Lamar and her director. I've been reading about it everyday in the papers. "

"Mr. Jameson of the Star, " Kennedy said, presenting me. 

We found we could not enter the basement immediately adjoiningthe vaults--that is, directly from the courtyard--because itseemed advisable to keep a stream of water playing down thesteps, and a resulting cloud of steam blocked us. Mantonexplained that we could get through from the next cellar if itwas not too hot, and so we hurried toward another entrance. 

Mackay, who had remained behind to protect the bag from the heat, joined us there. 

"I've put the bag in charge of that chauffeur, McGroarty, andarmed him with my automatic, " he explained. He paused to wipe hiseyes. The fumes from the film had distressed all of us. "Shirleyand Marilyn Loring are both missing still, " he added. "I've beenasking everyone about them. No one has seen them. "

The fire chief looked up. "Everyone is out? You are sureeverybody is safe?"

"I had Wagnalls at my elbow with a hose, " Manton replied. "I sawthe boy around, also. No one else had any business down there andthe vaults were closed and the cellar shut off. "

The door leading from the adjoining basement was hot yet, but notso that we were unable to handle it. However, the catch had stuckand it took considerable effort to force it in. As we did so acloud of acrid vapor and steam drove us back. 

Then Kennedy seemed to detect something in the slowly clearingatmosphere. He rushed ahead without hesitation. The fire chieffollowed. In another instant I was able to see also. 

The form of a woman, dimly outlined in the vapor, struggled tolift the prone figure of a man. After one effort she collapsedupon him. I dashed forward, as did Mackay and Manton. Two of themcarried the girl out to the air; the other three of us broughther unconscious companion. It was Marilyn and Shirley. 

The little actress was revived easily, but Shirley required thecombined efforts of Kennedy and the chief, and it was evidentthat he had escaped death from suffocation only by the narrowestof margins. How either had survived seemed a mystery. Theirclothes were wet, their faces and hands blackened, eyebrows andlashes scorched by the heat. But for the water poured into thebasement neither would have been alive. They had been prisonersduring the entire conflagration, the burning vault holding themat one end of the basement, the door in the partition resistingtheir efforts to open it. 

"Thank heaven he's alive!" were Marilyn's first words. 

"How did you get in the cellar?" Kennedy spoke sternly. 

"I thought he might be there. " Now that the reaction was settingin, the girl was faint and she controlled herself withdifficulty. "I was looking for him and as soon as I heard thefirst explosion I ran down the steps into the film-vaultentrance--I was right near there--and I found him, stunned. Istarted to lift him, but there were other explosions almostbefore I got to his side. The flames shot out through the cracksin the vault door and I--I couldn't drag him to the steps; I hadto pull him back where you found us. " She began to tremble. "It--it was terrible!"

"Was there anyone else about, anyone but Mr. Shirley?"

"No. I--I remember I wondered about the vault man. "

"What was Mr. Shirley down there for, Miss Loring?"

"He"--she hesitated--"he said he had seen some one hanging aroundand--and he didn't want to report anything until he was sure. He--he thought he could accomplish more by himself, although I toldhim he was--was wrong. "

"Whom did he see hanging around?"

"He wouldn't tell me. "

Shirley was too weak to question and the girl too unstrung tostand further interrogation. In response to Manton's call severalpeople came up and willingly helped the two toward the comfort oftheir dressing rooms. 

At the fire chief's suggestion the stream of water into thebasement was cut off. Manton led the way, choking, eyes watering, to the front of the vaults. Feverishly he felt the steel doorsand the walls. There was no mistaking the conclusion. Thenegative vault was hot, the others cold. 

"The devil!" Manton exclaimed. A deep poignancy in his voice madethe expression childishly inadequate. "Why couldn't it have beenthe prints!" Suddenly he began to sob. "That's the finish. Notone of our subjects can ever be worked again. It's a loss of halfa million dollars. "

"If you have positives, " Kennedy asked, "can't you make newnegatives?"

"Dupes?" Manton looked up in scorn. "Did you ever see a printfrom a dupe negative? It's terrible. Looks like some one left itout in the wet overnight. "

"How about the 'Black Terror'?" I inquired. 

"All of that's in the safe in the printing room; that and the twocurrent five reelers of the other companies. We won't lose ourreleases, but"--again there was a catch in his voice--"we couldhave cleared thousands and thousands of dollars on reissues. All--all of Stella's negative is gone, too!" To my amazement he beganto cry, without attempt at concealment. It was something new tome in the way of moving-picture temperament. "First they kill herand now--now they destroy the photographic record which wouldhave let her live for those who loved her. The"--his voicetrailed away to the merest whisper as he seemed to collapseagainst the hot smoked wall--"the devil!"

The fire chief took charge of the job of breaking into the vault. First Wagnalls attempted to open the combination of the fartherdoor, but the heat had put the tumblers out of commission. Returning to the entrance of the negative vault itself, the thinsteel, manufactured for fire rather than burglar protection, waspunctured and the bolts driven back. A cloud of noxious fumesgreeted the workers and delayed them, but they persisted. Finallythe door fell out with a crash and men were set to fanning freshair into the interior while a piece of chemical apparatus washeld in readiness for any further outbreak of the conflagration. 

Manton regained control of himself in time to be one of the firstto enter. Mackay held back, but the fire chief, the promoter, Kennedy, and myself fashioned impromptu gasmasks of wethandkerchiefs and braved the hot atmosphere inside the room. 

The damage was irremediable. The steel frames of the racks, thecheaper metal of the boxes, the residue of the burning film, allconstituted a hideous, shapeless mass clinging against the sidesand in the corners and about the floor. Only one section of theroom retained the slightest suggestion of its original condition. The little table and the boxes of negative records, the edges ofthe racks which had stood at either side, showed something oftheir former shape and purpose. This was directly beneath theventilating opening. Here the chemical mixture pumped in toextinguish the fire had preserved them to that extent. 

All at once Kennedy nudged the fire chief. "Put out your torch!"he directed, sharply. 

In the darkness there slowly appeared here and there on the wallsa ghostly bluish glow persisting in spite of the coating of sooton everything. 

Kennedy's keen eye had caught the hint of it while the electrictorch had been flashed into some corner and away for a moment. 

"Radium!" I exclaimed, entirely without thought. 

Kennedy laughed. "Hardly! But it is phosphorus, withoutquestion. "

"What do you make of that?" The fire chief was curious. 

"Let's get out!" was Kennedy's reply. 

Indeed, it was almost impossible for us to keep our eyes open, because of the smarting, and, more, the odor was nauseating. Aguard was posted and in the courtyard, disregarding the curiouscrowd about, Kennedy asked for Wagnalls and began to questionhim. 

"When did you close the vaults?"

"About two hours before the fire. Mr. Manton sent for me. "

"Was there anything suspicious at that time?"

"No, sir! I went through each room myself and fixed the doors. That's why the fire was confined to the negatives. "

"Have you any idea why the doors were open when we went through?"

"No, sir! I left them shut and the boy I put there while I wentover to McCann's said no one was near. He"--Wagnalls hesitated. "Once he went to sleep when I left him there. Perhaps he dozedoff again. "

"Why did you leave? Why go over to McCann's in business hours?"

"We'd worked until after midnight the night before. I had to openup early and so I figured I'd have my breakfast in the usualmorning slack time--when nothing's doing. "

"I see!" Kennedy studied the ground for several moments. "Do yousuppose anyone could have left a package in there--a bomb, inother words?"

Wagnalls's eyes widened, but he shook his head. "I'd notice it, sir! If I do say it, I'm neat. I generally notice if a can hasbeen touched. They don't often fool me. "

"Well, has any regular stuff been brought to you to put away;anything which might have hidden an explosive?"

Again Wagnalls shook his head. "I put nothing away or givenothing out except on written order from Mr. Manton. Anythingcoming in is negative and it's in rolls, and I rehandle thembecause they're put away in the flat boxes. I'd know in a minuteif a roll was phony. "

"You're sure nothing special--"

"Holy Jehoshaphat!" interrupted Wagnalls. "I'd forgotten!" Hefaced Manton. "Remember that can of undeveloped stuff, a two-hundred roll?" He turned to Kennedy, explaining. "When negative'sundeveloped we keep it in taped cans. Take off the tape and youspoil it--the light, you know. Mr. Manton sent down this can witha regular order, marking on it that some one had to come to watchit being developed--in about a week. Of course I didn't open thecan or look in it. I put it up on top of a rack. "

"When was this?"

"About four days ago--the day Miss Lamar was killed. "

The expression on Manton's face was ghastly. "I didn't send downany can to you, Wagnalls, " he insisted. 

"It was your writing, sir!"

Kennedy rose. "What did you do with orders like that, such as theone you claim came with the can of undeveloped negative?"

"Put them on the spindle on that table in the vault. "

"Wet your handkerchief and come show me. "

When they returned Kennedy had the spindle in his hand, thecharred papers still in place. This was one of the itemspreserved in part by the chemical spray through the ventilatingopening above. 

"Can you point out which one it is?" Kennedy asked. 

"Let's see!" Wagnalls scratched his head. "Next to the top, " hereplied, in a moment. "Miss Lamar's death upset everything. Onlyone order came down after that. "

With extreme care Kennedy took his knife and lifted the ashyflakes of the top order. "Get me some collodion, somebody!" heexclaimed. 

Wagnalls jumped up and hurried off. 

The fire chief leaned forward. "Do you think, Mr. Kennedy, thatthe little can he told you about started the fire?"

"I'm sure of it, although I'll never be able to prove it. "

"How did it work?"

"Well, I imagine a small roll of very dry film was put in tooccupy a part of the space. Film is exceedingly inflammable, especially when old and brittle. In composition it is practicallyguncotton and so a high explosive. In this recent war, Iremember, the Germans drained the neutral countries of filmsubjects until we woke up to what they were doing, while in thiscountry scrap film commanded an amazing price and went directlyinto the manufacture of explosives. Then I figure that a quantityof wet phosphorus was added, to fill the can, and that then thecan was taped. The tape, of course, is not moisture proofentirely. With the dampness from within it would soften, mightpossibly fall off. In a relatively short time the phosphoruswould dry and burn. Immediately the film in the can would ignite. As happened, it blew up, a minor explosion, but enough to scatterphosphorus everywhere. That, in the fume-laden air of the vault--there are always fumes in spite of the best ventilation systemmade--caused the first big blast and started all the damage. "

Mackay had rejoined us in time to hear the explanation. "Ingenious, " he murmured. "As ingenious as the methods used tomurder the girl and her director. "

Breathless, Wagnalls returned with the collodion. We watchedcuriously as Kennedy poured it over the charred remains of thesecond order on the spindle. It seemed almost inconceivable thatthe remnants of the charred paper would even support the weightof the liquid, yet Kennedy used it with care, and slowly thecollodion hardened before us, creating a tough transparentcoating which held the tiny fibers of the slip together. At thesame time the action of the collodion made the letters on theorder faintly visible and readable. 

"A little-known bank trick!" Kennedy told us. 

Then he held the slip up to the light and the words were plain. Wagnalls had been correct. The order from Manton wasunmistakable. The can was to be kept in the negative vault for aweek without being opened, until a certain party unnamed was tocome to watch the development of the film. 

The promoter wet his lips, uneasily. "I--I never wrote that! It--it's my writing, all right, and my signature, but it's aforgery!"

XXIX

MICROSCOPIC EVIDENCE

Kennedy made some efforts to preserve the forged order which hehad restored with the collodion, but I could see that he placedno great importance upon its possession. Gradually the yard ofthe studio had cleared of the employees, who had returned totheir various tasks. Under the direction of one stout individualwho seemed to possess authority the fire apparatus had beenreplaced in a portable steel garage arranged for the purpose in afarther corner, and now several men were engaged in cleaning upthe dirt and litter caused in the excitement. 

Except in the basement there were few signs of the blaze. Mantonaccompanied the fire chief to his car, then hurried up into thebuilding without further notice of us. Mackay went to McGroarty'smachine to claim the traveling bag containing our evidence. Kennedy and I started for the dressing rooms. 

"I want to get blood smears of Shirley and Marilyn, " he confidedin a low voice. "I shall have to think of some pretext. "

Neither of the two we sought were in their quarters and so wecontinued on into the studio. Here we found Kauf at work; atleast he was engaged in a desperate attempt to get something outof his people. 

"Ye gods, Gordon!" we heard him exclaim, as we made our waythrough the debris of the banquet set to the ballroom nowdazzlingly bright under the lights. "What if you do have to weara bandage around your head? It's a masked ball, isn't it? You'vegot a monk's cowl over everything but your features, haven'tyou?"

It struck me that the faces had never been more ghastly, althoughmy reason convinced me it was simply the usual effect of theCooper-Hewitt tubes. But there was no question but that theexplosion had given everyone a bad fright, that not an actress oractor but would have preferred to have been nearly anywhere elsebut under the heat of the glass roof, now a constant reminder ofthe accident because of the gaping hole directly above them. 

Marilyn was in the center of the revelers in the set, already incostume. Shirley I saw close to the camera men, standing uneasilyon shaky legs, shielding his eyes with one hand while he clung toa massive sideboard for support with the other. He had not yetdonned his carnival clothes, nor essayed to put on a make-up. 

Enid Faye, the only one in sight whose spirits seemed to haverallied at all, was offering him comfort of a sort. 

"You'll get by, all right, Merle, if you can keep on your pins, and I'll say you deserve credit for trying it. There's"--shestepped back a bit to study him--"there's just one thing. Youreyes show the result of all that smoke and vapor--no color orluster at all. I--I wonder if belladonna wouldn't brighten themup a bit and--well, get you by, for to-day?"

"I'll go out and get some at lunch. " He smiled weakly. "I'll tryanything once. "

"That's the spirit!" She patted him on the shoulder, then dancedon into the center of the set, stopping to direct some barbedremark at Marilyn. 

Kauf took his megaphone to call his people around him. Thereseemed to be a certain essential competence about the little man, now that Manton and Phelps and Millard were not about to botherhim. While we watched he succeeded in photographing one of thefull shots of the general action or atmosphere of the dance. Thenhe hurried to the side of Shirley, to see if the heavy man feltequal to the task of resuming his make-up once more. 

I found the time dragging heavy on my hands and I wished thatKennedy would return to the laboratory or decide upon somedefinite action. Though I racked my brain, I failed to think of adevice whereby Kennedy could get blood smears of Shirley orMarilyn without their knowledge. Once more my reflections veeredaround to the matter of the stolen towel and I wondered if thathad been wasted effort on Kennedy's part; if the fire had thrownout his carefully arranged plans to trap whoever took it. 

Suddenly I realized that Kennedy was following a very definiteprocedure, that his seeming indifference, his apparent idlecuriosity concerning the scene taking, masked a settled purpose. When Phelps entered he approached him casually and turned to himwith skilled nonchalance, holding up a finger. 

"Will you lend me a pocket knife for a moment?" he asked, "to geta hang-nail?"

Phelps produced one, rather grudgingly. Kennedy promptly wentover to the window, as though seeking better light. Thereafter heavoided Phelps. Soon the banker had forgotten the incident. 

Some time later Manton rushed in from the office. Kennedymaneuvered his way to the promoter's side and waited his chanceto borrow that man's pocket knife under conditions when Mantonwould be the least apt to remember it. Then he made his wayaround to Mackay and I saw that both the acquisitions went intolittle envelopes of the sort used to take the blood smears afterthe explosion and falling glass. 

Kennedy now seemed rather elated. Millard entered and he borrowedthe scenario writer's knife in exactly the same fashion as theothers. No one of the three men noticed his loss. I thought itlucky that all three carried the article, and tried to guess howfar Kennedy intended to carry this little scheme. 

Kauf's announcement of lunch gave me my answer. It seemed thatthere would be just half an hour and that the entire cast wasexpected to make shift at McCann's rather than attempt to go toany better place at a greater distance. Immediately Kennedyturned to me. 

"Hurry, Walter! Twenty minutes' quick work and then it's thelaboratory and the solution of this mystery. "

With Mackay and the bag we stole to the dressing rooms, waitinguntil sure that everyone was downstairs. In Enid's chamberKennedy glanced about carefully but swiftly. When nothing caughthis attention he picked up her finger-nail file, gingerly, fromthe blunt end, slipping it into one of the little envelopes whichMackay held open. Thereupon the district attorney put hisidentifying mark upon the outside and we went to the next room. 

It proved to be Gordon's. The general search was barren ofresult, but the dressing table yielded another finger-nail file, handled in the same manner as before. Then we entered Marilyn'sroom and left with the file from her dressing stand. In Shirley'squarters, the last we visited, we were in greater luck, however. While Kennedy and Mackay abstracted the usual file, I discoveredsome bits of tissue paper used in shaving. There was caked soapleft to dry just as it had been wiped from the razor. More, therewas a blood stain of fair [Transcriber's note: word(s) missing. ]

"Here's your smear, Kennedy, " I exclaimed. 

"Good! Fine!" He faced Mackay. "Now I lack just one thing, asample of the blood of Miss Loring. "

"Is that all?" The district attorney brightened. "Let me try toget it! I--I'll manage it in some way!"

"All right!" Kennedy took the bag. "Explain your marks so I'llknow--" He stopped suddenly. "No, don't tell me anything. I'llmake my chemical analyses and microscopic examinations withoutknowing the identity in the case either of the blood samples orthe finger-nail files. If I obtain results by both methods, andthey agree, I'll return armed with double-barreled evidence. Meanwhile, Mackay, you get a smear from Miss Loring and follow usto the laboratory. I'll coax McGroarty to drive us down, soyou'll have your car and you can bring us back. "

The district attorney nodded. "Me for McCann's, " he muttered. "That's where she went to eat. " He rushed off eagerly. 

Kennedy had no difficulty persuading McGroarty to put hisparticular studio car at our disposal without an order fromManton or from the director who had called him. In a very briefspace of time we were at the laboratory. 

"You expect to find the blood of one of those people showingtraces of the antivenin?" I grasped Kennedy's method ofprocedure, but wanted to make sure I understood it correctly. Already I was blocking out the detailed article for the Star, thebig scoop which that paper should have as a result of my closeassociation with Kennedy on the case. "One of those samplesshould correspond, I suppose, to the trace of blood on theportieres?"

"Exactly!" He answered me rather absently, being concerned insetting out the apparatus he would need for a hasty series oftests. 

"Will the antivenin show in the blood after four, perhaps fivedays?"

"I should say so, Walter. If it does not, by any chance, I willbe able to identify the blood, but that is much more involved andtedious--a great deal more actual work. "

"I've got it straight, then. Now--" I paced up and down severaltimes. "The finger-nail files should show a trace of the itchingsalve? Is that correct, Craig?"

For a moment he didn't answer, as his mind was upon hisparaphernalia. Then he straightened. "Hardly, Walter! The salveis soluble in water. What I shall find, if anything, is some ofthe fibers of the towel. You see, a person's finger nails aregreat little collectors of bits of foreign matter, and anyonehandling that rag is sure to show some infinitesimal trace for along while afterward. If the person stealing the towel filed orcleaned his nails there will be evidence of the fibers on hispocket knife or finger-nail file. I impregnated the towel withthat chemical so that I would be able to identify the fiberspositively. "

"The use of the itching salve was unnecessary?"

A quizzical smile crept across Kennedy's face. "Did you think Iexpected some one to go walking around the studio scratching hishands? Did you imagine I thought the guilty party would betrayhis or her identity in such childish fashion, after all thecleverness displayed in the crimes themselves?"

"But you were insistent that I rub in the--"

"To force them to wash their hands after touching the towel, Walter. "

"Oh!" I felt rather chagrined. "Wouldn't some pigment, somecolor, have served the purpose better?"

"No, because anyone would have understood that and would havetaken the proper measures to remove all traces. But the itchingsalve served two purposes. It was misleading, because obviously atrap upon reflection, and so it would distract attention from theimpregnated fibers, my real scheme. Then it was the best deviceof all I could think of, for it set up a local irritation of thesort most calculated to make a person clean his finger nails. Theaverage man and woman is not very neat, Walter. I was not surebut a scientific prodding was necessary to transfer my evidenceto some object I could borrow and examine under a microscope. "

Meanwhile Kennedy's long fingers were busy at the preliminaryoperations in his tests. He turned away and I asked no morequestions, not wishing to delay him. 

I noticed that first he examined the blood samples under themicroscope. Afterward he employed a spectroscope. But none of theoperations took any great amount of time, since he seemed toanticipate his results. 

Mackay burst in upon us, very elated, and produced a handkerchiefwith a bit of blood upon it. 

"I scratched her deliberately with the sharp point of my ring, "he chuckled. "I found her in the restaurant and the seat besideher was empty. I--I talked about everything under the sun and Iguess she thinks I'm a clumsy boob! Anyhow she cried out when Idid it, and got red in the face for a moment; but she suspectsnothing. "

Kennedy cut the spot from the handkerchief, put it in anenvelope, and turned back to his table. I drew Mackay into thecorner. 

As the minutes sped by and Craig worked in absorbedconcentration, Mackay grew more and more impatient to get back tothe studio. 

"Did you find anything?" repeated Mackay, for the tenth time. 

With a gesture of annoyance, Kennedy reached out for the nailfiles. 

"This is a grave matter, " he frowned. "I must check it up--anddouble check it--then I'm going back to the studio to triplecheck it. Let me see what the nail files reveal. It will be abare ten minutes more. "

Insisting that we remain back in the corner, he spread out thefour nail files and the open blades of the three pocket knives, setting each upon the envelope which identified it. 

The next quarter of an hour seemed interminable. Finally Kennedystarted replacing the files and the pocket knives in theirenvelopes, his face still wearing the inscrutable frown. Next hepacked the blood samples and other evidence in the traveling bagonce more. 

Mackay was bursting with impatience, but Craig still refused tobetray his suspicions. 

"I must get back there--quick, " he hastened. "I want everybody inthe projection room. In court, a jury might not grasp theinfallibility of the methods I've used. There would be a greatdeal of medical and expert testimony required--and you know, Mackay, what that means. "

"Is it a man--or a woman you suspect?" persisted the districtattorney. "Three of the men had pocket knives and--"

Kennedy led the way to the door without answering, and Mackay cutshort his hopeless quizzing as Craig nodded to me to carry thebag. 

XXX

THE BALLROOM SCENE

Sounds of music caught our ears as we entered the studiocourtyard of Manton Pictures. Carrying the bag with itsindisputable proof of some person's guilt, we made our waythrough the familiar corridor by the dressing rooms, out underthe roof of the so-called large studio. There a scene of gayetyconfronted us, in sharp contrast with the gloomy atmosphere ofthe rest of the establishment. 

Kauf, however, had thoroughly demonstrated his genius as adirector. To counteract the depression caused by all the recentmelodramatic and tragic happenings, he had brought in an eight-piece orchestra, establishing the men in the set itself so as toget full photographic value from their jazz antics. Where Wernerand Manton had dispensed with music, in a desperate effort ateconomy, Kauf had realized that money saved in that way was lostthrough time wasted with dispirited people. It was a lessonlearned long before by other companies. In other studios I hadseen music employed in the making of soberly dramatic scenes, solely as an aid to the actors, enabling them to get into theatmosphere of their work more quickly and naturally. 

Under the lights the entire set sparkled with a tawdry garishnessapt to fool those uninitiated into the secrets of photography. Onthe screen, colors which now seemed dull and flat would take on asoft richness and a delicacy characteristic of the society inwhich Kauf's characters were supposed to move. Obviously fragilescenery would seem as heavy and substantial as the walls andbeams of the finest old mansion. Even the inferior materials inthe gowns of most of the girls would photograph as well as themost expensive silk; in fact, by long experience, many of theextra girls had learned to counterfeit the latest fashions at acost ridiculous by comparison. 

Kennedy approached Kauf, then returned to us. 

"He asks us to wait until he gets this one big scene. It's theclimax of the picture, really, the unmasking of the 'BlackTerror. ' If we interrupt now he loses the result of half a day ofpreparation. "

"He may lose more than that!" muttered Mackay; and I wonderedjust whom the district attorney suspected. 

"Is everyone here?" I asked. "All seven?"

Gordon and Shirley, of the men, and Marilyn and Enid, of course, were out on the floor of the supposed ballroom. Gordon Irecognized because I remembered that he was to wear the garb of amonk. Marilyn was easily picked out, although the vivacity sheassumed seemed unnatural now that we knew her as well as we did. Her costume was a glorious Yama Yama creation, of a faint yellowwhich would photograph dazzling white, revealing trim stockingedankles and slender bare arms, framing face and eyes dancing withmerriment and maliciousness. Unquestionably she was the prettiestgirl beneath the arcs, never to be suspected as the woman who hadbraved the terrors of a film fire to rescue the man she loved. Enid was stately and serene in the gown of Marie Antoinette. Inthe bright glare her features took on a round innocence and shewas as successful in portraying sweetness as Marilyn was in thesimulation of the mocking evil of the vampire. 

Shirley interested me the most, however. I wondered if Kennedystill eliminated him in guessing at the identity of the criminal. I called to mind the heavy man's presence in the basement at thetime of the explosion and McGroarty's information that he hadbeen hanging about that part of the studio for some timepreviously. Some one had planted a cigarette case and stub toimplicate Gordon, according to Kennedy's theory. Shirleycertainly had had opportunity to steal the towel from the lockeras well as to point suspicion toward the leading man. 

In the midst of my reverie Shirley approached and passed us. Hewas in the garb of Mephisto. Like the others, he had not yetmasked his face. A peculiar brightness in his eyes struck me andI nudged Kennedy. 

"Belladonna, " Kennedy explained when he was beyond earshot. 

"Oh!" I remembered. "Enid told him to use it. "

"What?"

I repeated the conversation as near as I could reconstruct it. 

"H-m! That's a new cure for smoke-burned eyes; no cure at all. "

I was unable to get any more out of Kennedy, however. 

Manton I detected in the background with Phelps. The two men werearguing, as always, and it was evident that the banker wasaccomplishing nothing by this constant hanging about the studio. Where previously my sympathy had been with Phelps entirely, now Irealized that the promoter had won me. Indeed, Manton's interestin all the affairs of picture making at this plant had been fartoo sincere and earnest to permit the belief that he was seekingto wreck the company or to double-cross his backer. 

Millard entered the studio as I glanced about for him. He handedsome sheets to Kauf, then turned to leave. I attracted Kennedy'sattention. 

"You don't want Millard to get away, " I whispered. 

Kennedy sent Mackay to stop him. The author accompanied thedistrict attorney willingly. 

"Yes, Mr. Kennedy?"

"As soon as this scene is over we're going down to the projectionroom; everyone concerned in the death of Miss Lamar and of Mr. Werner. "

The scenario writer looked up quickly. "Do you--do you know whoit is?" he asked, soberly. 

"Not exactly, but I will identify the guilty person just as soonas we are assembled down in front of the screen. "

Shirley had left the studio floor, apparently to go to hisdressing room. Now I noticed that he returned and passed closejust in time to hear Millard's question and Kennedy's answer. Hiseyes dilated. As he turned away his face fell. He went on intothe set, but his legs seemed to wabble beneath him. I was sure itwas more than the weakness resulting from his experience in thefire. 

Kauf's voice, through the megaphone, echoed suddenly from wall towall, reverberating beneath the roof. 

"All ready! Everyone in the set! Masks on! Take your places!"

At a signal the orchestra struck up and the couples started todance. It was a wonderfully colorful scene and I saw that Kaufproposed to rehearse it thoroughly, doing it over and overwithout the cameras until every detail reached a practicedperfection. In this I was certain he achieved results superior toWerner's slap, dash, and bang. 

Then came the call for action. 

"Camera!" Kauf began to bob up and down. "Into it, everybody!"

For fascination and charm this far exceeded the banquet scenewhich we had witnessed in the taking previously. The music wassurprisingly good, so that it was impossible for the people notto get into the swing, and the result was a riotous swirling ofgracefully dancing pairs; the girls, selected for their beauty, flashing half-revealed faces toward the camera, displaying eyeswhich twinkled through their masks in mockery at a whollyineffectual attempt at concealment. 

Enid maintained her stately carriage, but made full use of thedazzling whiteness of her teeth. Early she permitted theattentions of the cowled monk whom she knew to be her lover. Marilyn was everywhere, making mischief the best she could. Shirley stalked about in his satanic red, which would photographblack and appear even more somber on the screen. 

Of course the whole was not photographed in a continuous stripfrom one camera position. I saw that Kauf made several long shotsto catch the general atmosphere. Then he made close-up scenes ofall the principals and of some of the best appearing extras. Atone time he ordered a panorama effect, in which the cameras"pammed, " swept from one side to the other, giving a successionof faces at close range. 

Finally everything was ready for the climax. Shirley had beenplaying a sort of Jekyll and Hyde role in which he was at oncethe young lawyer friend of Enid and the Black Terror. Unmaskedand cornered at this function of a society terrified by the dreadunknown menace, he was to make the transformation directly beforethe eyes of everyone, using the mythical drug which changed himfrom a young man of good appearance and family to the being whowas a very incarnation of evil. 

For once Kauf did not rehearse the scene. Shirley was obviouslyweakened from his experience and the director wished to sparehim. All the details were shouted out through the megaphone, however, and I grasped that the action of this part of the dancewas familiar to everyone; it was the big scene of the storytoward which all other events had built. 

Then came the familiar order. "Camera!"

At the start of this episode the orchestra was playing and thedancers were in motion. Suddenly Gordon, as the hero, strode upto Shirley and unmasked him with a few bitter words which laterwould be flashed upon the screen in a spoken title. Instantly acrowd gathered about, but in such a way as not to obstruct thecamera view. 

Cornered, seeing that flight was impossible unless he became theBlack Terror and possessed the strength and fearlessness of thatstrange other self, Shirley drew a little vial from his breastpocket and drank the contents. Evidently he knew his Mansfieldwell. Slowly he began to act out the change in his appearancewhich corresponded with the assumption of control by the evilwithin. His body writhed, went through contortions which werehorrible yet fascinating. It was almost as though a new fearfulbeing was created within sight of the onlookers. Not only was theface altered, but the man's stature seemed to shrink, to loseactual inches. I thought it a wonderful exhibition. 

The very next instant there came a groan from Shirley, somethingwhich at once indicated pain and realization and fear. He lostall control of himself and in a moment pitched forward upon thefloor, sputtering and clutching at the empty air. Another crybroke from between his lips, a ghastly contracted shriek astreble as though from the throat of a woman. 

This was no part of the story, no skillful bit of acting! It wasreal! Even before I had grasped the full significance of thehappening Kennedy had dashed forward. The cameras still weregrinding and they caught him as he kneeled at the side of thestricken man. Hardly a second afterward Mackay and I followed andwere at Kennedy's side. Kauf and the others, their faces weirdlyashen, clustered about in fright. 

A third time the invisible hand had struck at a member of thecompany. "The Black Terror, " with all the horror written intothat story, contained nothing as fearful as the menace to thepeople engaged in its production. 

Shirley's skin was cold and clammy, his face almost rigid. Whileconscious, he was helpless. Kennedy found the little vial andexamined it. 

"Atropin!" he ejaculated. "Walter!" He turned to me. "Get somephysostigmin, quick! Have Mackay drive you! It's--it's life ordeath! Here--I'll write it down! Physostigmin!"

As I raced madly out and down the stairs, Mackay at my heels, Iheard a woman's scream. Marilyn! Did she think him dead?

Once in the car, headed for the nearest drug store, graspingwildly at the side or at the back of the seat every few momentsas the district attorney skidded around curves and literallyhurdled obstacles, I remembered a forgotten fact. 

Atropin! That was belladonna, simply another name for the drug. Shirley had procured the stuff for use in his eyes. Nevertheless, he had been aware, undoubtedly, of its deadly nature. Passing byKennedy and the rest of us, he had overheard Kennedy state thatthe murderer would be identified as soon as all could beassembled in the projection room. The heavy man had not cared toface justice in so prosaic a manner. With the same sense of themelodramatic which had led him to slay Stella Lamar in the takingof a scene, Werner in the photographing of another, he hadpreferred suicide and had selected the most spectacular momentpossible for his last upon earth. 

Yes, Shirley was guilty. Rather than wait the slow processes oflegal justice he had attempted suicide. Now we raced to save hislife, to preserve it for a more fitting end in the electricchair. 

XXXI

PHYSOSTIGMIN

The first drug store we found was unable to supply us. At asecond we had better luck. All in all, we were back at the MantonPictures plant in a relatively few minutes, a remarkable bit ofdriving on the part of the district attorney. 

Shirley was still in the set. Kennedy at once administered thephysostigmin, I thought with an air of great relief. 

"This is one of the rare cases in which two drugs, both highlypoisonous, are definitely antagonistic, " he explained. "Each, therefore, is an antidote for the other when properlyadministered. "

Marilyn was chafing Shirley's cold hands, tears restingshamelessly upon her lids, a look of deep inexpressible fear inher expression. 

"Will--will you be able to save him, Professor?" she asked, notonce, but a dozen different times. 

None of the rest of us spoke. We waited anxiously for the firstsigns of hope, the first indication that the heavy man's lifemight be preserved. It was wholly a question whether thephysostigmin had been given to him quickly enough. 

Kennedy straightened finally, and we knew that the crisis wasover. Marilyn broke down completely and had to be supported to achair. Strong, willing arms lifted Shirley to take him to hisdressing room. 

At that moment Kennedy stood up, raising his voice so as todemand the attention of everyone, taking charge of mattersthrough sheer force of personality. 

"I have come here this afternoon, " he began, "to apprehend theman or woman responsible for the death of Miss Lamar and Mr. Werner, for the fire in the negative vault, and now for thisattempt upon the life of Mr. Shirley. "

Not a sound was evident as he paused, no movement save a vague, uneasy shifting of position on the part of some of those who hadbeen on the point of leaving. 

"I have indisputable evidence of the guilty person's identity, but, nevertheless, for reasons which I will explain to you I havenot yet completed my identification. To do so it is necessarythat certain photographed scenes be projected on the screen andthat certain other matters be made perfectly clear. I am veryanxious, you see, to eliminate the slightest possibility oferror. 

"Mr. Mackay here"--Kennedy smiled, very slightly--"is thedistrict attorney with jurisdiction at Tarrytown. At my request, since yesterday--or, to be exact, since the death of Mr. Wernerwarned us that no time could be lost--he has carried a 'John Doe'warrant. Immediately following my identification of the guiltyperson he--or she--will be placed under arrest. The charge willbe the murder of Stella Lamar by the use of poison in a mannerwhich I will explain to you. The trial will take place at WhitePlains, the county seat of Westchester County, where the murderoccurred. Mr. Mackay informs me that the courts there are notcrowded; in fact, he personally has been able to devote most ofhis time to this case. Therefore the trial will be speedy and Iam sure that the cold-blooded methods used by this criminal willguarantee a quick sentence and an early trip to the electricchair at Ossining. Now"--suddenly grim--"if everyone will go downto the projection room, the larger one, we will bring matters totheir proper conclusion. "

I imagined that Kennedy's speech was calculated to spread alittle wholesome fear among the people we had consideredsuspects. In any case that was the result, for an outsider, fromthe expressions upon the various faces, might have concluded thatseveral of them were guilty. Each seemed to start off across thestudio floor reluctantly, as though afraid to obey Kennedy, yetunable to resist the fascination of witnessing the identificationof the criminal, as though feeling that he or she individuallymight be accused, and yet unwilling to seek safety at the expenseof missing Kennedy's revelation of his methods and explanation oftheir result. 

I drew him aside as quickly as I could. 

"Craig, " I started, eagerly, "isn't this all unnecessary? Can'tyou see that Shirley is the guilty man? If you will hurry intohis room with paper and pencil and get his confession before herecovers from his fright and regains his assurance--"

"What on earth, Walter!" Kennedy interrupted me with a look ofsurprise which I did not miss even in my excitement. "What areyou driving at, anyway?"

"Why, Shirley is the criminal. He--"

"Nonsense! Wasn't an attempt made to kill him just now? Wasn't itevident that he was considered as dangerous to the unknown asWerner, the director? Hasn't he been eliminated from ourcalculations as surely as the man slain yesterday?" "No!" Iflushed. "Not at all, Craig! This was not an attempt at murder. There were none of the criminal's earmarks noticeable atTarrytown or in the banquet scene. "

"How do you mean, Walter?" For once Kennedy regarded meseriously. 

"Why, you pointed out yourself that this unknown wasexceptionally clever. The attempt on Shirley, if it were anattempt, was not clever at all. "

"Why?"

"Why?" I was a little sarcastic, because I was sure of myself. "Because the poison was atropin--belladonna. That is common. I'veread of any number of crimes where that was used. Do you thinkfor a moment that the mind which figured out how to use snakevenom, and botulin toxin, would descend to anything as ordinaryas all this?"

"Well, if it was not an attempt at murder, what was it?"

"Suicide! It's as plain as the nose on your face. Shirley waspassing us as we were standing with Millard and as you toldMillard we all were to go to the projection room to identify thecriminal. Therefore Shirley knew he was at the end of his rope. With the theatrical temperament, he took the poison just as hefinished playing his last great scene. It--it was a sort of swansong. "

"Quite a theory, Walter!" Now I knew Kennedy was unimpressed. "But, where did he get the belladonna?"

"For his eyes. After the smoke smart. "

"The drug is of no use against such inflammation. "

"No, but it served to brighten his eyes. Enid suggested it to himand he went out and got it. It helped him play his scenes. Itgave him the glittering expression he needed in hischaracterization. "

Again Kennedy seemed to grasp my view. He hesitated for severalmoments. Finally he looked up. 

"If Shirley is the criminal, and if he is above using as common adrug as atropin for killing another man, then--then why isn't heabove using it upon himself?"

That struck me as easy to answer. "Because if he is killinghimself it is not necessary for him to cover his tracks, or to doit cleverly, and besides"--it was my big point--"he probablydidn't decide to try to do it until he overheard us and realizedthe menace. At that time he had the belladonna in his pocket. Hedid not have an opportunity to procure anything else. "

Kennedy grinned. "You're all wrong, Walter, and I'll show youwhere your reasoning is faulty. In the first place if thiscriminal was the type to commit suicide at the moment he thoughthe was about to be caught he would be the type who would reflectupon that idea beforehand. As his crimes show a great deal ofprevious preparation, so we may assume that he would prepare forsuicide, or rather for the possibility that he might wish toattempt it. Therefore he would have something better for thatpurpose than atropin. "

I shook my head, but Kennedy continued. 

"As a matter of fact, the use of that drug is not less cleverthan the use of the venom or the toxin; it is more so. Stop andthink a minute! The snake venom was employed in the case of MissLamar's death because it offered about the least possible chanceof leaving telltale clues behind. The snake poison could beinflicted with a tiny scratch, and in such a way that an outcryfrom the girl would never be noticed. Nothing but my pocket lenscaught the scratch; only the great care I used in my examinationput us on the trail at all. 

"Now remember how Werner met his death. The toxin gave everysymptom of food poisoning. Except that we discovered the brokenstem of the wineglass we would never have been able to prove thetragedy anything but accident. Very possibly we have Shirley tothank for the fact that our one clue there was not removed ordestroyed. 

"In both cases the selection of the poison was suited to theconditions. Therefore, if an attempt was made to kill Shirley--and of the fact I am sure--we might expect that the agentlikewise would be one least apt to create suspicion. There are noportieres, no opportunity for the use of another venom; andbesides, that has lost its novelty, and so its value. Similarlythere is no use of food or wine in the scene, precludingsomething else along the toxin order. 

"Our unknown realizes that the safest place to commit murder iswhere there is a crowd. He has followed that principleconsistently. In the case of the heavy man, who has a bit ofbusiness before the camera where he drinks the contents of alittle bottle, the very cleverest thing is to use belladonna, because Shirley has employed it for his eyes, and because"--maliciously, almost--"it leads immediately to the hypothesis ofsuicide. "

"Ye gods, Craig!" A sudden thought struck me and rather terrifiedme. "Do you suppose Enid Faye suggested the use of the drug toShirley as part of the scheme to kill him? Is she--"

"I prefer, " Kennedy interrupted--"I prefer to suppose that theguilty person overheard her, or perhaps saw him buy it or learnedin some other way that he was going to use it. "

Completely taken up with this new line of thought, I failed toquestion Kennedy further, and it was just as well because most ofthe people were on their way down to the projection room, notonly those we wished present, but practically everyone ofsufficient importance about the studio to feel that he couldintrude. 

Kennedy turned to Mackay, who had taken no part in ourdiscussion, although an interested listener. "You have the bagand all the evidence?"

"Yes!" Mackay picked it up. "Watkins, the camera man, watched itfor me while Jameson and I went after that drug. "

Kennedy stooped down quickly, but it was locked and had not beentampered with. 

In the corridor by the dressing rooms we met Kauf, and Kennedystopped him. 

"How long would it take to make a print from the scene whereShirley took the poison?"

"We could have it ready in half an hour, in a case of grimnecessity. "

"Half an hour?" I exclaimed at that, in disbelief. "You couldn'tbegin to dry the negative in that time, Kauf. "

He glanced at me tolerantly. "We make what is called a wet print;that is, we print from the negative while it is still wet and sowe only have the positive to dry. Then we put it on drums in aforced draught of hot air. The result is not very good, but it'sa fine thing sometimes to get a picture of a parade or someaccident in a theater right after it happens. "

"Will you do it for me, Kauf?" Kennedy broke in, impatiently. "This is a case of grim necessity, " he added. 

Kauf hurried off and we made our way across the yard to thestairs leading down into the basement and to the projection roomspecified by Kennedy. Here Manton was waiting, uneasy, flushed, his face gathered in a frown and his hands clenching andunclenching in his nervousness. 

"Do you--do you know who it is?" he demanded. 

"Not yet, " Kennedy replied. "First I must marshal all myevidence. "

"Who--who do you want present in the projection room?"

"Mr. Phelps, Mr. Millard, and--yourself, Mr. Manton. Miss Loringand Miss Faye. Mr. Gordon. Anyone else who wishes, if there isroom. "

"Phelps, Millard, Gordon, and the two girls are inside already. "

"Good! We will start at once. "

Manton turned, to lead the way in. At that moment there was acall from the yard. We stopped, looking up. It was Shirley. 

"Wait just a minute, " he cried. He was so weak that the two extramen who were helping him virtually supported his weight. On hisface was a look of desperate determination. "I--I must see thistoo!" he gasped. 

XXXII

CAMERA EVIDENCE

Coming in from the bright light of open day, the projection roomseemed a gloomy, forbidding place, certainly well calculated tobreak down the reserve of perhaps the cleverest criminal everpitting his skill against the science of Craig Kennedy. 

It was a small room, long and not so wide, with a comparativelylow ceiling. In order to obviate eye strain the walls werepainted somberly and there were no light colors in evidenceexcept for a nearly square patch of white at the farther end, thescreen upon which the pictures were projected. The illuminationwas very dim. This was so that there would be no great contrastbetween the light reflected from the images cast upon the screenduring pictures and the illumination in the room itself betweenreels; again designed to prevent strain upon the eyes of theemployees whose work was the constant examination of film invarious stages of its assembly. 

The chairs were fastened to the floor, arranged in tiny crescentsand placed so as not to interfere with the throw of the picturesfrom behind. The projection machines themselves, two in number inorder to provide continuous projection by alternating the reelsand so threading one machine while running the other, were in afireproof booth or separate room, connected with the tinyauditorium only by slits in the wall and a sort of portholethrough which the operator could talk or take his instructions. 

Directly beneath the openings to the booth were a table equippedwith a shaded lamp, a stand for manuscripts, and a signal button. Here the film cutters and editors sat, watching the subject uponwhich they worked and making notes for changes, for bits ofsuperfluous action to be cut out, or for titles or spoken insertsto be moved. At a signal the operator could be instructed to stopat any point, or to start, or to wind back and run some givenpiece over again. The lights in the room were controlled fromwithin the booth and also by a switch just at the side of thedoor. A telephone on the table offered a connection with any partof the studio or with the city exchanges, so that an official ofthe company could be reached while viewing a picture. 

As we entered I tried to study the different faces, but found ita hopeless task on account of the poor light. Kennedy took hisplace at the little table, switching on the little shaded lampand motioning for Mackay to set the traveling bag so he couldopen it and view the contents. Then Mackay took post at the door, a hand in his pocket, and I realized that the district attorneyclasped a weapon beneath the cover of his clothing, and wasprepared for trouble. I moved over to be ready to help Kennedy ifnecessary. As Kennedy took his key, unlocking the bag, it wouldhave been possible to have heard the slightest movement of a handor foot, the faintest gasp of breath, so tense was the silence. 

First Kennedy took out the various rolls of film. Looking up, hecaught the face of the operator at the opening in the wall andhanded them to him one by one. 

"Here are two sections of the opening of the story, scenes one tothirteen of 'The Black Terror' put together in order, but withoutsubtitles. One is printed from the negative of the head cameraman, Watkins. The other is exactly the same action as taken bythe other photographer. We will run both, but wait for my signalbetween each piece. Understand?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Now I am giving you two rolls which contain prints of thenegative from both cameras of the action at the moment ofWerner's death. Those are to be projected in the same way when Igive you the signal. Following that there will be two very shortpieces which show the attempt upon the life of Mr. Shirley. Theyare being rushed through the laboratory at this moment and willbe brought to you by the time we are ready for them. Finally"--Kennedy paused and as he took the rolls of negative of the snakefilm I could see that he hesitated to allow them out of his handseven for a few moments--"here is some negative which will be mylittle climax. It--it is very valuable indeed, so please becareful. "

"You--you want to project the NEGATIVE?" queried the operator. 

"Yes. They tell me it can be done, even with negative as old andbrittle as this, if you are careful. "

"I'll be careful, sir! You punch the button there once to stopand two to go. I'll be ready in a moment. " As he spoke hedisappeared and soon we heard the unmistakable hiss of the arcsin his machines. 

Kennedy stooped and from the bag produced the little envelopeswith the pocket knives and nail files, the set of envelopes withthe samples of blood, the piece of silk he had cut from theportiere at Tarrytown, the tiny bits he had cut from the towelfound by me in the washroom of this studio, and a microscope--thelast, I guessed, for effect. 

Around in the semidarkness I could see the faces as necks werecraned to watch us. Kennedy's deliberateness, his air ofcertainty, must have struck terror home to some one person in thelittle audience. Often Kennedy depended upon hidden scientificinstruments to catch the faint outward signs of the emotions ofhis people in a seance of this sort, to allow the comparison oftheir reactions in the course of his review of the evidence, togive him what amounted to a very sure proof of the one person'sguilt. The very absence of some such preparation indicated to methe extent of his confidence. 

At length he began his little lecture, for all the world asthough this were one of his classes at the University, as thoughthere were at stake some matter of chemical reaction. 

"I need not tell you, ladies and gentlemen, that this is a highlyscientific age in which we live. " His tones were leisurely, businesslike, cool. "Your own profession, the moving picture, with all its detail of photography and electricity, its blendingof art and drama and mechanics, is indicative of that, but"--apause for emphasis--"it is of my own profession I wish to talkjust now, the detection and prevention of crime. 

"Criminals as a whole were probably the very first class ofsociety to realize the full benefit of modern science. Banks andbusiness institutions, the various detective and police forces, all grades and walks of life have been put to it to keep abreastof the development of scientific crime. So true has this beenthat it is a matter of common belief with many people that thehand of the law may be defied with impunity, that justice may becheated with absolute certainty, just so long as a guilty man orwoman is sufficiently clever and sufficiently careful. 

"Fortunately, the real truth is quite the reverse. Science hasextended itself in many dimensions of space. With the use of amicroscope, for instance, a whole new world is opened up to thetrained detective. 

"Everyone knows now that the examination of hands and fingers isan infallible aid in the identification of criminals and in theproof of the presence of a suspect at the scene of a crime--Irefer to fingerprints, of course. But fingerprints are only onesmall detail in this department of investigation. Our criminalsknow that gloves must be worn, or any smooth surface wiped so asto remove the prints. In that way they believe they cheat themicroscope or the pocket lens. 

"As a matter of fact few people have thought of another way ofgaining evidence from the finger tips, but it is a methodpossible to the scientist, and is not only practicable butexceedingly effective. In time it will be recognized by allspecialists in crime. Now I refer to the deposits under thefinger nail. 

"Indeed, it is surprising how many things find their way underthe nail and into the corners of the cuticle. " Kennedy indicatedthe files and pocket knives visible in the shaded square of lightbefore him. "The value of examining finger-nail deposits becomesevident when we realize that everyone carries away in thatfashion a sample of every bit of material he handles. To touch apiece of cloth, even lightly, will result in the catching of afew of its fibers. Similarly, the finger nails will depositeither a small or large portion of their accumulation upon suchthings as the knife blades or files used to clean them; and thereidentification still is possible. Nothing in the world is tooinfinitesimal for use as evidence beneath the microscope. 

"In classifying these accumulations"--Kennedy paused and thesilence in the little room was death-like--"we may say that thereare some which are legitimate and some which are not. It is thelatter which concern us now. The first day we were here at thestudio, just four days ago now, and immediately following themurder of Miss Lamar, Mr. Jameson discovered a towel in thewashroom on the second floor of the office building. On thattowel there were spots of Chinese yellow, make-up, as though ithad been used to wipe a face or hands by some actor or actress. Those spots were unimportant. There were others, however, of anentirely different nature, together with the mark of blood and astain which showed that a hypodermic needle had been cleaned uponthe towel before it was thrown in the basket. "

Kennedy leaned forward. His eyes traveled from face to face. "That towel was a dangerous clue. " Now there was a new grimelement in his voice. "That towel alone has given me the evidenceon which I shall obtain a conviction in this case. To-day I letit be known that it was in my possession and the guilty man orwoman understood at once the value it would be to me. In order togain additional clues I purposely gave the impression that I hadyet to analyze either the spots or the trace of blood. I wantedthe towel stolen, and for that purpose I placed the bagcontaining it in a locker and left the locker unguarded. I coatedthe towel with a substance which would cause discomfort andalarm--itching salve--not with the idea that anyone would befoolish enough to go about scratching before my eyes, but withthe idea of making that person believe that such was my purposeand with the idea of driving him--or her--to washing his hands atonce and, more, with the idea of forcing him or scaring him intocleaning his fingernails. 

"I succeeded. On one of these files or knife blades I have foundand identified the fibers of that towel. I do not yet know theperson, but I know the mark placed by Mackay on the outside ofthe little envelope, and when I tell Mackay the mark he will namethe guilty person. "

"Mr. Kennedy!" Manton spoke up, impulsively, "every towel in thestudio is the same. I bought them all at the same time. Thefibers would all be alike. You have named seven people to me, including myself, as possibly guilty of these--these murders. Your conclusions may be very unjust--and may lead to a seriousmiscarriage of justice. "

Kennedy was unperturbed. "This particular towel, in addition tothe itching salve, was thoroughly impregnated with a colorlesschemical which changed the composition of the fibers in a wayeasily distinguishing them from the others under the microscope. Do you see, Mr. Manton?"

The promoter had no more to say. 

"Now what connection has the towel with the case? Simply this!"Kennedy picked up one of the tiny pieces he had cut out of it. "The poison used to kill Miss Lamar was snake venom. " He pausedwhile a little murmur went through his audience, the first soundI had detected. "These spots on the towel are antivenin. Thevenom itself is exceedingly dangerous to handle. The guilty man--or woman--took no chances, but inoculated himself with antivenin, protection against any chance action of the poison. The marks onthe towel are the marks made by the needle used by that person intaking the inoculation. 

"If you will follow me closely you will understand thesignificance of this. Miss Lamar was killed by the scratch of aneedle secreted in the portieres through which she came, playingthe scene in Mr. Phelps's library. That I will prove to you whenI show you the film. The night following her death some one brokeinto the room there at Tarrytown and removed the needle. Inremoving the needle that person scratched himself, or herself. Onthe portieres I found some tiny spots of blood. " Kennedy pausedto hold up the bit of heavy silk. "I analyzed them and found thatthe blood serum had changed in character very subtly. Idemonstrated that the blood of the person who took the needlecontained antivenin, and if necessary I can prove the blood tocome from the same individual who wiped the needle on the towelin the studio. "

Kennedy pressed the button before him, twice. "Now I want you tosee, actually see Miss Lamar meet her death. "

The lights went out, then the picture flashed on the screenbefore us, revealing the gloom and mystery of the opening sceneof "The Black Terror. " We saw the play of the flashlight, finallythe fingers and next the arm of Stella as she parted thecurtains. In the close-up we witnessed the repetition of herappearance, since the film was simply spliced together, not"matched" or trimmed. Following came all the action down to thepoint where she collapsed over the figure of Werner on the floor. Before the camera man stopped, Manton rushed in and wasphotographed bending over her. 

Kennedy's voice was dramatically tense, for not one of us but hadbeen profoundly affected by the reproduction of the tragedy. 

"Did you notice the terror in her face when she cried out? Wasthat terror, really? If you were watching, you would havedetected a slight flinch as she brushed her arm up against thesilk. For just a moment she was not acting. It was pain, notpretended terror, which made her scream. The devilish feature tothis whole plot was the care taken to cover just that thing-herinevitable exclamation. Now watch closely as I signal theoperator to run the same action from the other camera. Notice thegradual effect of the poison, how she forces herself to keepgoing without realization of the fact that death is at hand, howshe collapses finally through sheer inability to maintain hercontrol of herself a moment longer. "

During the running of the second piece the tense silence in theroom was ghastly. Who was the guilty person? Who possessed suchamazing callousness that an exhibition of this sort brought nooutcry?

"Now"--Kennedy glanced around in the dim light, switched onbetween the running of the different strips--"I'm going toproject the banquet scenes and show you the manner of Werner'sdeath. "

Scene after scene of the banquet flashed before us. Here thecutter had not been sure just what Kennedy wanted and had splicedup everything. We saw the marvelous direction of Werner, wholittle realized that it was to be his last few moments on earth, and we grasped the beauty and illusion of the set caused by themirrors and the man's skill in placing his people. Yet there wasnot a sound, because we knew that this was a tragedy, a grimepisode in which there was no human justification whatever. 

Werner rose at his place. He proposed his toast. He drank thecontents of his glass. Then, his expression changed to wondermentand from that to fear and realization, and he dropped to thefloor. 

Kennedy's voice, interrupting, seemed to me to come from a greatdistance, so powerfully was I affected by the bit of film. 

"The poison used to kill Mr. Werner was botulin toxin, selectedbecause its effects could not be diagnosed as anything other thanordinary food poisoning. When we look at the print from thesecond camera's negative you will notice how quickly it acted. Itwas the pure toxin, placed in his glass before the wine waspoured. "

Once more the unfortunate director's death was reproduced beforeus. 

"Struck down, " exclaimed Craig, "as though by some invisiblelightning bolt, without mercy, without a chance, without theslightest bit of compunction! Why? I'll tell you. Because hesuspected, in fact knew, who the guilty person was. Because hefollowed that person out to Tarrytown the night the needle wasremoved from the portieres. Because he was a menace to thatperson's life!"

Kennedy turned to the operator. "Have those other scenes comedown?"

"Yes, sir!"

"All right!" Kennedy faced the rest of us again. "There was, orrather is, another person who suspects the identity of thecriminal. To-day an attempt was made upon the life of Shirley. Shirley will not tell whom he suspects because he has no definiteproof, yet for the mere fact that he suspects he narrowly escapedthe fate of Stella Lamar and Werner. " Kennedy pressed the button. "Witness the effort to kill the man playing the part of the BlackTerror. "

The print was terribly bad, in appearance almost a "dupe, " due tothe speed with which it had been made. Nevertheless the two verybrief scenes rushed through for this showing were moreabsorbingly thrilling, more graphic than anything ever to be seeneven in a news reel at a movie theater. 

"Notice!" Kennedy exclaimed. "He puts his hand in one pocket, hefumbles, hesitates, then finds the bottle in the other. Whoeverput the poison in the vial replaced it in the wrong pocket. Thefilm shows that very clearly. The camera proves that it was notan attempt at suicide. Yet the poison used was belladonna, selected because this victim had purchased some and because itwould seem sure, therefore, that he had committed suicide. "

We sat in silence, listening, horrified. 

"There is still another matter, " Kennedy went on, after a moment. "The fire in the negative vault this morning was incendiary. Ihave proved to the satisfaction of several of us that a bomb wasconstructed of wet phosphorus and old film and placed in thevault by trickery four days ago, the same day Stella Lamar waskilled. Through a miscalculation the phosphorus was slow indrying and the fire did not occur until to-day. Thanks to thatfact I have in my possession a bit of negative which the murderervery likely wished to have destroyed; in fact, I believe itsdestruction to be the motive in planning the fire in the vault. "He faced the operator. "Ready to run the negative?"

"Yes, sir!"

Kennedy pressed the button and when the projection machine threwits picture upon the screen I saw something such as I had neverimagined before. Everything was black which should have beenwhite and everything white which should have been black. The twoextremes shaded into each other in weird fashion. In fact it wasuncanny to watch a negative projected and I followed, fascinated. 

"This is a film made with the co-operation of Doctor Nagoya ofthe Castleton Institute and I am told by Mr. Manton that it isone of the finest snake pictures ever made. " Kennedy spoke fast, so that we would get the full benefit of his explanation and sothat it would not be necessary to subject the negative to thewear and tear of the sprocket wheels in the projection machineagain. "I am running this for you to show you the action of therattlesnake, whose venom was used to kill Miss Lamar, and to giveyou an idea of the source of the murderer's knowledge of snakepoison. "

At this moment Doctor Nagoya, whom I could barely recognize inthe inverted photography, seized one of the rattlers. It was aclose-up and we could see the reptile dart out its forked tongue, seeking to get at the hands of the Japanese, locked firmly aboutits neck. Then another man walked into the picture, holding ajar. At once the snake struck at the glass. As it did so it waspossible to see drops of the venom projected into the jar. 

Other details followed and there were views of other sorts andbreeds of snakes, from the poisonous to the most harmless. Theprincipal scene, however, had been the one showing the venom. 

"Lights up!"

The operator threw the switch again, stopping the film and at thesame time lighting the projection room. Kennedy stepped forwardand turned to face us. 

"There was this negative in the vaults. " He spoke rapidly. "Itbore a certain name on the film, as editor. Some one knew thatproof of the possession of this knowledge of snakes might prove apowerful link in the chain against him. If that had been apositive instead of a negative, you would have recognized DoctorNagoya's 'assistant. ' There was a double motive in blowing thatvault--to destroy the company and to protect himself. In fact, all the rest of the negative was destroyed. Only by chance Isaved this piece--the very one that he wanted to destroy. "

Everyone waited breathlessly for Kennedy's next move. SuddenlyKennedy flushed. I could see that he became genuinely angry. 

"In this room, " he exclaimed, "there sits the most unscrupulous, cold-blooded, inhuman being I have ever known. Yet he maintainssilence, believing still that he can defy the scientific evidenceof his crimes. I have not yet mentioned, however, the real proofof his guilt. "

Kennedy picked up one of the little envelopes, one whichcontained a blood smear. "During the explosion this morning anumber of you were cut by falling glass. You will remember that Ibound up your cuts, carefully cleansing each one and wiping awaythe blood. That gave me a sample of the blood of everyone butMiss Loring and Mr. Shirley. Subsequently, without theirknowledge, I obtained a sample from each of them. Thus I have aspecimen from everyone concerned, or possibly concerned in themurders. "

He glanced about, but even now there was no telltale revelation. 

"I have analyzed these and one shows that the person from whom Iobtained the sample has been inoculated with antivenin. The markon the envelope is the same as the mark on the envelopecontaining the towel fibers, a double proof. Furthermore, I amprepared to show that it is the same blood as the blood upon theportiere. " He faced me. All at once his voice carried thesharpness of a whip. "Walter, relieve Mackay at the door and takehis weapon. Let no one out. Mackay, come here!"

An instant later the district attorney leaned over. He glanced atthe mark indicated by Kennedy, then whispered a name. The nextinstant Kennedy rose. "I thought so, " he muttered. 

Raising his voice, he addressed all of us. 

"Here is a man who thought crime so long that he believed hecould get away with--murder! Not only did he commit a secondmurder and plan a third to cover the first, but he plantedevidence against nearly all of you. He dropped the ampulla inMcGroarty's car to implicate any one of four people. He coollystole a cigarette case to put it where it would be found afterthe film fire and clinch suspicion. 

"For all this, what justification has he had? Jealousy, jealousyof the narrowest, most primitive, sort actuated him. Not only washe willing to kill Stella Lamar, but he sought to destroy everyfoot of negative in which she had appeared. He was jealous of hersuccess, greater than his, jealous of her interest in other men, greater than her interest in him. Her divorce was maneuvereddirectly by him simply because he thought it would hurt andhumiliate her, and for no other reason. 

"When nothing seemed to stop her, on her upward climb, when herealized that she was as ambitious as he was and that herposition in the picture world alone interested her, he sought bydevious means, by subtle schemes, by spreading dissatisfactionand encouraging dissension, to wreck the company which had madeher. At the end--he killed her--waiting craftily until she was atthe very climax of her finest piece of work, the opening scenesof 'The Black Terror. '"

There was bitterness in Kennedy's tones. "Before, I would notbelieve that a man--"

Suddenly the projection room was plunged into darkness. Some onehad pushed the wall switch close by me. I backed into thedoorway, raising my weapon to resist any attempt to escape. 

Almost at the same instant there were the sounds of a struggle. Kennedy had dashed forward in the darkness, sure of the positionof his man, unafraid. 

A scream I recognized from the throat of Enid. I groped for theswitch, but the operator in the booth anticipated me. In thefirst burst of illumination I saw that Kennedy had forced hisantagonist back over the front row of chairs. Almost I heard thecrack of the man's spine. 

I caught a glimpse of the man's face and gasped at the murderousrage as he struggled and strove to break Kennedy's iron grip. 

Enid was the first at Kennedy's side. With an expression I failedto analyze until long afterward she sought to claw at themurderer's unprotected features, twitching now in impotent fury. 

"You wrote that note for her to meet you at the tearoom, " Kennedymuttered, eyes narrowing grimly, "knowing she would be deadbefore that time. You protected yourself against the poisonedneedle in the portieres--but--your own blood convicts you--Millard!"

THE END