Read The Film Mystery Page 29


  XXIX

  MICROSCOPIC EVIDENCE

  Kennedy made some efforts to preserve the forged order which he hadrestored with the collodion, but I could see that he placed no greatimportance upon its possession. Gradually the yard of the studio hadcleared of the employees, who had returned to their various tasks.Under the direction of one stout individual who seemed to possessauthority the fire apparatus had been replaced in a portable steelgarage arranged for the purpose in a farther corner, and now severalmen were engaged in cleaning up the dirt and litter caused in theexcitement.

  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 andI started for the dressing rooms.

  "I want to get blood smears of Shirley and Marilyn," he confided in alow voice. "I shall have to think of some pretext."

  Neither of the two we sought were in their quarters and so we continuedon into the studio. Here we found Kauf at work; at least he was engagedin a desperate attempt to get something out of his people.

  "Ye gods, Gordon!" we heard him exclaim, as we made our way through thedebris of the banquet set to the ballroom now dazzlingly bright underthe lights. "What if you do have to wear a bandage around your head?It's a masked ball, isn't it? You've got a monk's cowl over everythingbut your features, haven't you?"

  It struck me that the faces had never been more ghastly, although myreason convinced me it was simply the usual effect of the Cooper-Hewitttubes. But there was no question but that the explosion had giveneveryone a bad fright, that not an actress or actor but would havepreferred to have been nearly anywhere else but under the heat of theglass roof, now a constant reminder of the accident because of thegaping 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 uneasily onshaky legs, shielding his eyes with one hand while he clung to amassive sideboard for support with the other. He had not yet donned hiscarnival clothes, nor essayed to put on a make-up.

  Enid Faye, the only one in sight whose spirits seemed to have ralliedat all, was offering him comfort of a sort.

  "You'll get by, all right, Merle, if you can keep on your pins, andI'll say you deserve credit for trying it. There's"--she stepped back abit to study him--"there's just one thing. Your eyes show the result ofall that smoke and vapor--no color or luster at all. I--I wonder ifbelladonna wouldn't brighten them up a bit and--well, get you by, forto-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 danced oninto the center of the set, stopping to direct some barbed remark atMarilyn.

  Kauf took his megaphone to call his people around him. There seemed tobe a certain essential competence about the little man, now that Mantonand Phelps and Millard were not about to bother him. While we watchedhe succeeded in photographing one of the full shots of the generalaction or atmosphere of the dance. Then he hurried to the side ofShirley, to see if the heavy man felt equal to the task of resuming hismake-up once more.

  I found the time dragging heavy on my hands and I wished that Kennedywould return to the laboratory or decide upon some definite action.Though I racked my brain, I failed to think of a device whereby Kennedycould get blood smears of Shirley or Marilyn without their knowledge.Once more my reflections veered around to the matter of the stolentowel and I wondered if that had been wasted effort on Kennedy's part;if the fire had thrown out his carefully arranged plans to trap whoevertook it.

  Suddenly I realized that Kennedy was following a very definiteprocedure, that his seeming indifference, his apparent idle curiosityconcerning the scene taking, masked a settled purpose. When Phelpsentered he approached him casually and turned to him with skillednonchalance, holding up a finger.

  "Will you lend me a pocket knife for a moment?" he asked, "to get ahang-nail?"

  Phelps produced one, rather grudgingly. Kennedy promptly went over tothe window, as though seeking better light. Thereafter he avoidedPhelps. Soon the banker had forgotten the incident.

  Some time later Manton rushed in from the office. Kennedy maneuveredhis way to the promoter's side and waited his chance to borrow thatman's pocket knife under conditions when Manton would be the least aptto remember it. Then he made his way around to Mackay and I saw thatboth the acquisitions went into little envelopes of the sort used totake the blood smears after the explosion and falling glass.

  Kennedy now seemed rather elated. Millard entered and he borrowed thescenario writer's knife in exactly the same fashion as the others. Noone of the three men noticed his loss. I thought it lucky that allthree carried the article, and tried to guess how far Kennedy intendedto carry this little scheme.

  Kauf's announcement of lunch gave me my answer. It seemed that therewould be just half an hour and that the entire cast was expected tomake shift at McCann's rather than attempt to go to any better place ata greater distance. Immediately Kennedy turned to me.

  "Hurry, Walter! Twenty minutes' quick work and then it's the laboratoryand the solution of this mystery."

  With Mackay and the bag we stole to the dressing rooms, waiting untilsure that everyone was downstairs. In Enid's chamber Kennedy glancedabout carefully but swiftly. When nothing caught his attention hepicked up her finger-nail file, gingerly, from the blunt end, slippingit into one of the little envelopes which Mackay held open. Thereuponthe district attorney put his identifying mark upon the outside and wewent to the next room.

  It proved to be Gordon's. The general search was barren of result, butthe dressing table yielded another finger-nail file, handled in thesame manner as before. Then we entered Marilyn's room and left with thefile from her dressing stand. In Shirley's quarters, the last wevisited, we were in greater luck, however. While Kennedy and Mackayabstracted the usual file, I discovered some bits of tissue paper usedin shaving. There was caked soap left to dry just as it had been wipedfrom the razor. More, there was a blood stain of fair proportions.

  "Here's your smear, Kennedy," I exclaimed.

  "Good! Fine!" He faced Mackay. "Now I lack just one thing, a sample ofthe blood of Miss Loring."

  "Is that all?" The district attorney brightened. "Let me try to get it!I--I'll manage it in some way!"

  "All right!" Kennedy took the bag. "Explain your marks so I'll know--"He stopped suddenly. "No, don't tell me anything. I'll make my chemicalanalyses and microscopic examinations without knowing the identity inthe case either of the blood samples or the finger-nail files. If Iobtain results by both methods, and they agree, I'll return armed withdouble-barreled evidence. Meanwhile, Mackay, you get a smear from MissLoring and follow us to the laboratory. I'll coax McGroarty to drive usdown, so you'll have your car and you can bring us back."

  The district attorney nodded. "Me for McCann's," he muttered. "That'swhere she went to eat." He rushed off eagerly.

  Kennedy had no difficulty persuading McGroarty to put his particularstudio car at our disposal without an order from Manton or from thedirector who had called him. In a very brief space of time we were atthe laboratory.

  "You expect to find the blood of one of those people showing traces ofthe antivenin?" I grasped Kennedy's method of procedure, but wanted tomake sure I understood it correctly. Already I was blocking out thedetailed article for the Star, the big scoop which that paper shouldhave as a result of my close association with Kennedy on the case. "Oneof those samples should correspond, I suppose, to the trace of blood onthe portieres?"

  "Exactly!" He answered me rather absently, being concerned in settingout the apparatus he would need for a hasty series of tests.

  "Will the antivenin show in the blood after four, perhaps five days?"

  "I should say so, Walter. If it does not, by any chance, I will be ableto identify the blood, but that is much m
ore involved and tedious--agreat deal more actual work."

  "I've got it straight, then. Now--" I paced up and down several times."The finger-nail files should show a trace of the itching salve? Isthat correct, Craig?"

  For a moment he didn't answer, as his mind was upon his paraphernalia.Then he straightened. "Hardly, Walter! The salve is soluble in water.What I shall find, if anything, is some of the fibers of the towel. Yousee, a person's finger nails are great little collectors of bits offoreign matter, and anyone handling that rag is sure to show someinfinitesimal trace for a long while afterward. If the person stealingthe towel filed or cleaned his nails there will be evidence of thefibers on his pocket knife or finger-nail file. I impregnated the towelwith that 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 his hands?Did you imagine I thought the guilty party would betray his or heridentity in such childish fashion, after all the cleverness displayedin 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, some color, haveserved the purpose better?"

  "No, because anyone would have understood that and would have taken theproper measures to remove all traces. But the itching salve served twopurposes. It was misleading, because obviously a trap upon reflection,and so it would distract attention from the impregnated fibers, my realscheme. Then it was the best device of all I could think of, for it setup a local irritation of the sort most calculated to make a personclean his finger nails. The average man and woman is not very neat,Walter. I was not sure but a scientific prodding was necessary totransfer my evidence to some object I could borrow and examine under amicroscope."

  Meanwhile Kennedy's long fingers were busy at the preliminaryoperations in his tests. He turned away and I asked no more questions,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 to anticipatehis results.

  Mackay burst in upon us, very elated, and produced a handkerchief witha bit of blood upon it.

  "I scratched her deliberately with the sharp point of my ring," hechuckled. "I found her in the restaurant and the seat beside her wasempty. I--I talked about everything under the sun and I guess shethinks I'm a clumsy boob! Anyhow she cried out when I did it, and gotred in the face for a moment; but she suspects nothing."

  Kennedy cut the spot from the handkerchief, put it in an envelope, andturned back to his table. I drew Mackay into the corner.

  As the minutes sped by and Craig worked in absorbed concentration,Mackay grew more and more impatient to get back to the studio.

  "Did you find anything?" repeated Mackay, for the tenth time.

  With a gesture of annoyance, Kennedy reached out for the nail files.

  "This is a grave matter," he frowned. "I must check it up--and doublecheck it--then I'm going back to the studio to triple check it. Let mesee what the nail files reveal. It will be a bare ten minutes more."

  Insisting that we remain back in the corner, he spread out the fournail files and the open blades of the three pocket knives, setting eachupon the envelope which identified it.

  The next quarter of an hour seemed interminable. Finally Kennedystarted replacing the files and the pocket knives in their envelopes,his face still wearing the inscrutable frown. Next he packed the bloodsamples and other evidence in the traveling bag once more.

  Mackay was bursting with impatience, but Craig still refused to betrayhis suspicions.

  "I must get back there--quick," he hastened. "I want everybody in theprojection room. In court, a jury might not grasp the infallibility ofthe methods I've used. There would be a great deal of medical andexpert testimony required--and you know, Mackay, what that means."

  "Is it a man--or a woman you suspect?" persisted the district attorney."Three of the men had pocket knives and--"

  Kennedy led the way to the door without answering, and Mackay cut shorthis hopeless quizzing as Craig nodded to me to carry the bag.