Read The Film Mystery Page 16


  XVI

  ENID ASSISTS

  "A poison more subtle than any concocted by man!" repeated Kennedy.

  It was a startling declaration and left me quite speechless for themoment.

  "We know next to nothing of the composition of the protein bodies inthe snake venoms which have such terrific and quick physiologicaleffects on man," Kennedy went on. "They have been studied, it is true,and studied a great deal, but we cannot say that there are any adequatetests by which the presence of these proteins can be recognized.

  "However, everything points to the conclusion now that it was snakevenom, and my physiological tests on the guinea pig seem to confirm it.I see no reason now to doubt that it was snake venom. The fact of thematter is that the snake venoms are about the safest of poisons for thecriminal to use, for the reason of the difficulty they give in anychemical analysis. That is only another proof of the diabolicalcleverness of our guilty person, whoever it may be.

  "Later I'll identify the particular kind of venom used. Just now I feelit is more important to discover the actual motive for the crime. Inthe morning I have a plan which may save me further work here in thelaboratory, but for to-night I feel I have earned a rest and"--asmile--"I shall rest by searching out the motives of thesetemperamental movie folk a little more." As he spoke he slipped out ofhis 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 toJacques'."

  "Why Jacques'?"

  "Because I phoned your friend Belle Balcom and she informed me thatthat was the place where we would be apt to find the elite of the filmworld dining."

  I acquiesced, of course. We hurried to the apartment first for a fewnecessary changes and preparations, then we started for the TimesSquare section in a taxi.

  "I never heard of the use of snake venom before," I remarked, settlingback in the cushions--"that is, deliberately, by a criminal, to poisonanyone."

  "There are cases," replied Craig, absently.

  "Just how does the venom act?"

  "I believe it is generally accepted that there are two agents presentin the secretion. One is a peptone and the other a globulin. One isneurotoxic, the other hemolytic. Not only is the general nervous systemattacked instantly, but the coagulability of the blood is destroyed.One agent in the venom attacks the nerve cells; the other destroys thered corpuscles."

  "You suspected something of this kind, then, when you first examinedStella Lamar?"

  "Exactly! You see, the victim of a snake bite often is unable to moveor speak. Doctor Blake observed that in the case of the stricken star.Her nerves were affected, resulting in paralysis of the muscles of theheart and lungs and giving us some symptoms of suffocation. Then theblood, as a result of the attack of the venom, is always left dark andliquid. That, too, I observed in the sample sent me from Tarrytown.

  "The snake," Kennedy continued, "administers the poison by fangs moredelicate than any hypodermic. Nature's apparatus is more precise thanthe finest appliances devised for the use of a surgeon by ourinstrument makers. The fangs are like needles with obliquely cut pointsand slit-like outlets. The poison glands correspond to the bulb of asyringe. They are, in reality, highly modified salivary glands. Fromthem, when the serpent strikes, is ejected a pale straw-coloredhalf-oleaginous fluid. You might swallow it with impunity. But once inthe blood, through a cut or wound, it is deadly."

  "There could be no snake in this case," I remarked. "The fangs of aserpent make two punctures, don't they; while here there was just theone scratch--"

  "Of course there were no fangs when the deed was actually done," herejoined, impatiently. "We've traced everything to the needle in theportieres and it is my belief that it was part of an all-glasshypodermic with a platinum-iridium point. It could hardly have beenanything like the coarser syringe used by Werner, nor do I think itpossible that the point of an ordinary needle would hold sufficientvenom, since it would dry and form a coating like the incrustation onthe 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 portiere wherethe needle had pierced through."

  "The towel, though--"

  "Is something else. First thing in the morning we'll follow that up, asI promised you. Meanwhile let's concentrate on motives."

  A long line of private cars and taxicabs outside Jacques' testified tothe popularity of the restaurant. At the door stood a huge, bulkingnegro resplendent in the glaring finery of his uniform. It seemed to methat people literally were thronging into the place, for it wascleverly advertised as a center of night life.

  Inside, the famous darky jazz band was in full swing. There was liltand rhythm to the melody produced by the grinning blacks, and not afree arm or foot or shoulder or head of any of them but did not sway intime to their syncopated music.

  We were shown to a table on a sort of gallery or mezzanine floor whichextended around three sides of the interior. Below, in the center, wasthe space for dancing, surrounded by groups and pairs of diners. Stairsled to the balcony on both sides, as though the management expectednone of their guests to resist the lure of the dance between courses.The band, I noticed, was at the farther end, on an elevated dais, sothat the contortions of the various players could be seen above theheads of those on the floor.

  We were at the rail so that we commanded a view of the entire place, alocation I guessed had been maneuvered by Kennedy with a word to thehead waiter. The only tables invisible to us were those directlybeneath, but it would be a simple matter to cross around during anydance number to view them.

  As we took our seats the lights were dimmed suddenly. I realized thatwe had arrived in the midst of the cabaret and that it was the turn ofone of the performers. Kennedy, however, seemed to enjoy theentertainment, an example of his ability to gain recreation wheneverand however he wished, to find relaxation under the oddest or mostcasual circumstances, out of anything from people passing on the streetto an impromptu concert of a street band. In scanty garments, in theglare of a multi-colored spotlight, the girl danced a hybrid of everydance from the earliest 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. Whatpossible bearing this terpsichorean monstrosity might have upon thegastronomic inclinations of the audience it would have been difficultto fathom.

  The lights flashed bright again and Kennedy gave our order. Meanwhile Iglanced about at the people below us. There was no one in sight I knewuntil I leaned well over the rail, but upon doing that I felt littlechills of excitement run from the top to the bottom of my spine, for Idiscovered in a very prominent situation at the very edge of the dancefloor a party of four, of whom three very much concerned us. LloydManton, back to the polished space behind him, was unmistakable inevening clothes. These bunched at his neck and revealed his habitualstoop as impartially as his business suits. Across from him, loungingupon the table likewise, but more immaculately and skillfully tailored,was Lawrence Millard. The writer, I noticed, flourished his cigaretteholder, fully a foot in length, and emphasized his remarks to the girlon his right with a rather characteristic gesture made with the secondfinger of his left hand. The girl was Enid, quite mistress of herselfin a gown little more than no gown; and the remarks were obviouslyconfidential. The other girl, engrossed in Manton, seemed a dangerouslyyouthful and self-conscious young lady. Her hair flamed Titian red andher neck, 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 I was.

  With a blatant flourish of saxophone and cornet and traps the bandbegan a jazzy fox-trot. Instantly there was a rush from the tables forthe floor. Enid jumped to her feet, moving her bare shoulders in therhythm of the mu
sic. Then Millard took firm hold of her and they wovetheir way into the crush. It seemed to me that the little star was thevery incarnation of the dance. I envied her partner more than I daredadmit to myself.

  Manton and his companion rose also, but more leisurely. On her feet thegirl did not seem so young, although the second impression may havebeen the result of the length of her skirt and the long slim, lines ofher gown. We watched both couples through the number, then gave ourattention to the food we had ordered. Another dance, a modified waltz,revealed Enid in the arms of Manton. I tried to determine from heractions if she felt any preference for the producer, or for Millardwhen again she took the floor with him. It was an idle effort, ofcourse. The people surged out perhaps three or four times while we wereat our meal. Each time the party below jumped up in response to themusic. At our cigars, finally, I took to observing the other diners,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 all themiseries of the bashful lover. It was Enid herself.

  "I caught sight of you looking over the rail while I was dancing," shetold Kennedy, accepting a chair pulled around by the waiter. "I knewyou saw me. Also I glanced up and found that you were perfectly wellaware of the location of our table. So"--engagingly--"unsociablecreature! Why didn't you come down and say 'Hello!' or ask me for adance?"

  "Perhaps I intended to a little later."

  "Yes!" she exclaimed, in mockery. "You see, since Mecca won't go to thepilgrim, the pilgrim has to come to Mecca."

  "Did you ever hear of Mohammed and the mountain, Miss Faye?" Kennedyasked.

  "Of course! That's the regular expression. But I agree with Barnum. Ashe said, some people can be original some of the time and some peoplecan be original all of the time, and I propose to be original always,like a baby with molasses."

  Kennedy laughed, for indeed she was irresistible. Then she turned tome, placing one of her warm little hands upon mine.

  "And Jamie!" she purred. "Have you forgotten little Enid altogether?Won't--won't YOU come down and dance?"

  "I--I can't!" I exploded, in agony. "I don't know how!" And I thoughtthat I would never dare trust myself with her glistening shouldersclasped close to me, with her slim bare arm placed around my neck as Ihad watched it slip about the collar of Millard.

  "Now that the pilgrim is at Mecca--" Kennedy suggested, interruptingcruelly, as I thought.

  "Oh!" In an instant I sensed that I was forgotten, and I was hurt."There's something which came out this afternoon at the studio," shebegan, "and I wonder if you know. Larry--that's Mr. Millard--assures meit is true, and--and I think you ought to hear about it. I--I want toassist all I can in solving the mystery of Stella Lamar's death, eventhough Stella's unfortunate end 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 company forfifteen hundred a week, which would double his salary--perhaps you'veheard that?"

  Kennedy nodded, although it was news to him. "I've been thinking aboutGordon," he murmured.

  "Anyway," she went on, "it's gone around that he's desperately in needof money and that that is why he's so insistent upon the increase. Itseems he owes everyone. In particular he owes Phelps some huge sums andold Phelps is on his tail, hollering and raising Ned. Phelps, you know,has uses for money himself just now. You had heard?"

  Again Kennedy evaded a direct answer. "Money is fearfully tight, ofcourse," he remarked, encouraging her to continue.

  "Yes," she repeated, "Phelps is terribly hard up and after Gordon. Andthat's not all about our handsome leading man, Mr. Kennedy." She leanedforward. A certain intensity crept into her voice. She began to toywith his sleeve with the slender fingers of one hand, as though in thatmanner to compel his greater attention. "You know Stella Lamar reallywas in love with Jack Gordon. In fact she was daffy over him. And nowI've found out that he was borrowing money from her, was taking nearlyevery cent 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. She hadmade many men give up to her motor cars, expensive furs, jewelry, allmanner of presents. But in the end she had found one man to whom she inturn was willing to yield all. But what of him?

  "In the last few weeks, they tell me, poor Stella disposed of many ofher handsome presents from men like Manton and Phelps and others, allto get money to give to him. At the end she even raised money on herjewelry. I--I think you'll find it all in pawn now, if you'llinvestigate. I don't doubt but that poor Stella died without a penny toher name."

  I was so surprised at this information that I failed to study Kennedy'sface. I was completely jolted from my own rapt contemplation of thevery soft curves of Enid's back. For here was a motive at last! Gordonwas a possible suspect I had failed to take even halfway seriously. Yetthe leading man was desperately pressed for money, had had adisgraceful fight with Phelps as we already knew; and not only owedhuge sums to his fiancee as Enid now explained, but had quarreled withher just prior to her death, according to his own admission in theinvestigation at Tarrytown.

  Suddenly the music struck up once more. Enid rose, adjusting the strapsof her gown.

  "There!" she exclaimed, smiling abruptly. "I thought you ought to knowthat, though I hate to peddle gossip. Now I must hurry back. I've beenaway long enough. But come down later and dance."

  She swept off without further formality. An instant afterward we sawher in the clasp of Millard once again. We watched during the numberand encore; then Kennedy called for the check.

  "Let's go up to the apartment," he suggested. "I'd like to talk some ofthese things out with you. It will help me clarify my own impressions."

  Underneath the balcony I noticed Kennedy turn for a last glance atManton's party. I paused to look, also. Enid was leaning forward,talking to Millard earnestly, emphasizing what she had to say withcharacteristic movements of her head.

  "She's pumping Millard for more information about Stella Lamar," Iremarked.

  Kennedy had no comment.