Read The Film Mystery Page 25


  XXV

  ITCHING SALVE

  For once I rose with Kennedy. He preceded me to the laboratory afterbreakfast, however, leaving me to wait for Mackay. When the littledistrict attorney arrived I noticed that he carried a package whichlooked as though it might contain a one-reel film can.

  "The negative we took from the cameras at Tarrytown," he explained."Also a print from each roll, ready to run. I've been holding this asevidence. Mr. Kennedy wanted me to bring it with me 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," I laughed, "ifhe sees a chance of getting his man." Then I became enthusiastic."Often I've seen him gather a group of people in a room, perhapswithout the faintest shred of legal right to do so, and there make theguilty person confess simply by marshaling the evidence, or maybebetray himself by some scientific device. It's wonderful, 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 know thatKennedy will resort to almost anything."

  The district attorney fingered the package under his arm. "He might geteveryone in the projection room then, and make them watch the actualphotographic record of Stella's death--the scene where she scratchedherself--"

  "Let's hurry!" I interrupted.

  When we entered the laboratory we found Kennedy vigorously fanning atowel which he had hung up to dry. I recognized it as the one I haddiscovered in the studio washroom immediately following the firstmurder.

  "This will serve me better as bait than as evidence," he laughed. "Ihave impregnated it with a colorless chemical which will cling to thefibers and enable me to identify the most infinitesimal trace of it. Weshall get up to the studio and start, well--I guess you could call itfishing for the guilty man." He fingered the folds, then jerked thetowel down and flung it to me. "Here, Walter! It's dry enough. Now Iwant you to rub the contents of that tiny can of grease, open beforeyou there, into the cloth."

  He hurried over to wash his hands. I spread the towel out on the tableand began to work in the stuff indicated by Kennedy. There was no odorand it seemed like some patent ointment in color. At first I waspuzzled. Then, absently, I touched the back of one hand with the greasyfingers of the other and immediately an itching set up so annoying thatI had to abandon my task.

  Kennedy chuckled. "That's itching salve, Walter. The cuticle pads atyour finger tips are too thick, but touch yourself anywhere else!--" Heshrugged his shoulders. "You'd better use soap and water if you wantany 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 the interestedparty 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 the preparation,"Mackay suggested, "and watch to see who came after it?"

  "Because our criminal's too clever," Kennedy rejoined. "Our only chanceto get it stolen is to make it very plain that it is not being watched.Whoever steals it, however, possibly will reveal himself on account ofthe itching salve. In any case I expect to be able to trace the towelto the thief, no matter what efforts are 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 battered travelingbag. Climbing into Mackay's little roadster, we soon were speedingtoward the studio.

  "Will you be able to help me, to stay with Jameson and myself all day?"Kennedy asked the district attorney, after perhaps a mile of 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 some of myplans to become known." He paused a moment in thought. "The film youbrought in with you consists of the scenes on the rolls of negative inuse at the time of Miss Lamar's collapse. It may or may not include theaction where she scratched herself. Now I want the scenes up tothirteen put together in proper order, first as photographed by onecamera, then as caught by the other. I'll arrange for the services of acutter, and for the delivery to me of any other negative or positiveoverlooked by us when we had the two boxes sealed and given into yourcustody at Tarrytown. Will you superintend the assembly of the scenes,so that 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 of acomplete demoralization. The death of Werner, the fact that he had beenstricken down during the taking of a scene and on the very stage, hadserved to bring the tragedy home to the people. More, it was a secondmurder in four days, apparently by the same hand as the first. A senseof dread, a nameless, intangible fear, had taken form and found its wayunder the big blackened glass roofs and around and through thecorridors, into the dressing rooms, and back even to the manufacturingand purely technical departments. The gateman eyed us with undisguiseduneasiness as we drove through the archway into the yard. In thatinclosure there were only two cars--Manton's, and one we later learnedbelonged to Phelps. The sole human being to enter our range of visionwas an office boy. He skirted the side of the building as though themenace of death were in the air, or likely to strike out of the veryheavens without warning.

  We found Kauf in the large studio, obviously unhappy in the shoes ofthe unfortunate Werner. Probably from half-reasoned-out motives ofefficiency in psychology the new director had made no attempt to resumework at once in the ill-fated banquet set, but had turned to thecompanion ballroom setting, since both had been prepared and made readyat the same time.

  Kennedy explained our presence so early in the morning very neatly, Ithought.

  "I would appreciate it," he began, "if you could place a cutter at thedisposal of Mr. Mackay. He has the scenes taken from the camera andsealed at the time of Miss Lamar's death. I would like to have anyother film taken out there delivered to him and the whole joined inproper sequence. Then, Mr. Kauf, if you could arrange to have the samecutter take the film exposed yesterday when Mr. Werner--"

  "You think you might be able to see something, to discover something onthe screen?"

  "Exactly!"

  Kauf beamed. "Mr. Manton gave me orders to assist you in every way Icould, or to put any of my people at your disposal. More than that, Mr.Kennedy, he anticipated you. He thought you might want to look at thescenes taken yesterday and he rushed the laboratory and the printingroom. We'll be able to fix you up very quickly."

  "Good!" Kennedy nodded to Mackay and the district attorney hurried offwith 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 those demandedfor the banquet. I saw that Kennedy singled out Marilyn.

  "Good morning," she said, cheerfully, but with effort. It was obviousshe had spent a nervous night. There were circles under her eyes illconcealed by the small quantity of cosmetic she used. Her hands,shifting constantly, displayed the loss of her usual poise. "You areout bright and early," she added.

  "We've stumbled into a very important clue," Kennedy told her, with ashow of giving her his confidence. "In that bag in Walter's hand is oneof the studio towels. It contains a hint of the poison used to killMiss Lamar and--of utmost consequence--it has provided me with aninfallible clue to the identity of the murderer himself--or herself."

  It seemed to me that Marilyn blanched. "Where--where did you find it?"she demanded, in a very awed voice.

  "In one of the studio washrooms."

  "It has been--it has been in the washroom ever since poor Stella'sdeath?"

  "No, not that! Jameson discovered it the same day but"--the very slightpause was perceptible to me; Kennedy hated
to lie--"I haven't realizedits importance until just this morning."

  Enid Faye, seeing us from a distance, conquered her dislike of Marilynsufficiently to join us. She was very erect and tense. Her eyes, wideand sober and searching, traveled from my face to Kennedy's and back.Then she dissembled, softening as she came close to me, laying a handon my shoulder and allowing her skirt to brush my trousers.

  "Tell me, Jamie," she whispered, her warm breath thrilling me throughand through. "Has the wonderful Craig Kennedy discovered something?" Itwas not sarcasm, but assumed playfulness, masking a throbbing curiosity.

  "I found a towel in one of the studio washrooms," I answered, "andCraig has demonstrated that it is a clue to the poison which killedStella Lamar as well as to the person who did it."

  Enid gasped. Then she drew herself up and her eyes narrowed. Now shefaced Kennedy.

  "How can the towel be a clue to the crime?" she protested. "Stellawas--was murdered way out in Tarrytown! Mr. Jameson found the towelhere!"

  Kennedy shrugged his shoulders. "I cannot tell you that--just yet." Hepaused deliberately. "You see," he lied. "I have yet to make myanalysis."

  "But you know it's a clue to the--"

  "That towel"--he raised his voice, as though in elation--"that towelwill lead me to the murderer--infallibly!"

  Merle Shirley had come up in time to hear most of the colloquy betweenEnid and Kennedy. At the last he flushed, clenching his fists.

  "If you can prove who the murderer is, Mr. Kennedy," he exploded, "whydon't you apprehend him before some one else meets the fate of Werner?"

  "I can do nothing until I return to my laboratory this afternoon. Iwill not know the identity of the guilty person until I complete achemical analysis."

  One by one the various people possibly concerned in the two crimesjoined the group. This morning all the faces were serious; most of themshowed the marks of sleeplessness following the second murder. Kennedywalked away, but I saw that Jack Gordon hastened to question both thegirls, ignoring their evident dislike for him. Among the others Irecognized Watkins, the camera man, and his associate. Lawrence Millardcame in and hastened to the side of Enid. As he drew her away to askthe cause of the gathering I wondered at his early presence. Thescenario writer was typical of them all. The strange and unusual natureof the crimes, the evident relationship between them, had drawn theemployees of Manton Pictures to the studio as a crowd of baseball fanscollects before a public bulletin board. Not one of them but was afraidof missing some development in the case. In no instance could theinterest of a particular individual be taken 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 the causefor the excitement. Kennedy explained, patiently, and I saw that Phelpslooked at the black bag uneasily.

  "I hope the guilty party is not a member of the company," he muttered.

  "Why?" Kennedy's mouth tightened.

  The financier grew red. "Because this picture has been crippled enough.First a new star; now a new director--if it wasn't so preposterous I'dbelieve that it was all part of a deliberate--" He stopped as ifrealizing suddenly the inadvisability of vague accusations.

  "Don't you want justice done?" Kennedy inquired.

  "Of course!" Phelps tugged at his collar uncomfortably. "Of course, Mr.Kennedy." Then he turned and hurried away, out of the studio.

  Gordon and Millard detached themselves from the others, coming over.

  "In which washroom was the towel found, Mr. Kennedy?" Gordon put thequestion as though he felt himself specially delegated to obtain thisinformation.

  I wondered how Kennedy would evade a direct answer. To my surprise hemade no attempt at concealment.

  "The one on the second floor of the office building."

  Millard laughed, facing Gordon. "That puts it on myself--or the bigboss!"

  It struck me that the leading man was uneasy as he hurried back to theothers. Millard, still smiling, turned to say something to us, but wewere joined by Manton, entering from the other end of the big inclosure.

  "Good morning," the promoter exclaimed, somewhat breathless. "I justlearned you were here. Is--is there some new development. Is theresomething I can do?"

  "I see you are not allowing anything to interfere with the making ofthe picture," Kennedy remarked. "All the people seem to be here brightand early."

  A shadow crept into Manton's face. "It seems almost as cold-bloodedas--as war," he admitted. "But I can't help myself, Mr. Kennedy. Thecompany has no money and if we don't meet this release we're busted."All at once he lowered his voice eagerly. "Tell me, have you discoveredsomething? Is there some clue to the guilty man?"

  "He's found a towel," Millard put in, an expression of half amusementon his face as he faced the promoter. "In some way it's a clue to theidentity of the murderer, an infallible clue, he says. He found it inthe washroom by our offices. Since Werner is dead, that points thefinger of suspicion at you or me."

  Manton's jaw dropped. His expression became almost ludicrous, as if thethought that he could possibly be suspected himself was new to him.Millard's eyes sobered a bit at his superior's confusion.

  "There's a door from the dressing rooms," Kennedy suggested. "Any ofthe actors or actresses could have used the place."

  "Of course!" Manton grasped at the straw. "I had forgotten. There havebeen complaints to me about the players using that room."

  "I have the towel with me, wrapped up in a paper in this grip," Kennedywent on. "It's so very valuable as a bit of evidence--I wonder if Icould borrow a locker so as to keep it under lock and key until we'reready to return to the laboratory?"

  "Sure! Of course!" Manton glanced about and saw the little knot ofpeople still gathered in the set. "Millard! Go over and tell Kauf toget busy. He's losing time." Then he turned to us again. "Come on, Mr.Kennedy, we have some steel lockers out by the property room."

  As we started across the floor I could see that Kennedy was framing aquestion 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 if weever can help it. The censorship won't pass anything with snakes."

  "You have used them, though?"

  "Yes. Once we made a short-length special subject, nothing but snakes."Manton became enthusiastic. "It was a wonder, too; a pet film of mine.We made it with the direct co-operation and supervision of the greatestauthority on poisonous snakes in the country, Doctor Nagoya ofCastleton Institute."