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Page 116
"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 the
stairs leading down into the basement and to the projection room
specified by Kennedy. Here Manton was waiting, uneasy, flushed,
his face gathered in a frown and his hands clenching and
unclenching in his nervousness.
"Do you--do you know who it is?" he demanded.
"Not yet," Kennedy replied. "First I must marshal all my
evidence."
"Who--who do you want present in the projection room?"
"Mr. Phelps, Mr. Millard, and--yourself, Mr. Manton. Miss Loring
and Miss Faye. Mr. Gordon. Anyone else who wishes, if there is
room."
"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 a
call from the yard. We stopped, looking up. It was Shirley.
"Wait just a minute," he cried. He was so weak that the two extra
men who were helping him virtually supported his weight. On his
face was a look of desperate determination. "I--I must see this
too!" he gasped.
XXXII
CAMERA EVIDENCE
Coming in from the bright light of open day, the projection room
seemed a gloomy, forbidding place, certainly well calculated to
break down the reserve of perhaps the cleverest criminal ever
pitting his skill against the science of Craig Kennedy.
It was a small room, long and not so wide, with a comparatively
low ceiling. In order to obviate eye strain the walls were
painted somberly and there were no light colors in evidence
except for a nearly square patch of white at the farther end, the
screen upon which the pictures were projected. The illumination
was very dim. This was so that there would be no great contrast
between the light reflected from the images cast upon the screen
during pictures and the illumination in the room itself between
reels; again designed to prevent strain upon the eyes of the
employees whose work was the constant examination of film in
various stages of its assembly.
The chairs were fastened to the floor, arranged in tiny crescents
and placed so as not to interfere with the throw of the pictures
from behind. The projection machines themselves, two in number in
order to provide continuous projection by alternating the reels
and so threading one machine while running the other, were in a
fireproof booth or separate room, connected with the tiny
auditorium only by slits in the wall and a sort of porthole
through which the operator could talk or take his instructions.
Directly beneath the openings to the booth were a table equipped
with a shaded lamp, a stand for manuscripts, and a signal button.
Here the film cutters and editors sat, watching the subject upon
which they worked and making notes for changes, for bits of
superfluous action to be cut out, or for titles or spoken inserts
to be moved. At a signal the operator could be instructed to stop
at any point, or to start, or to wind back and run some given
piece over again. The lights in the room were controlled from
within the booth and also by a switch just at the side of the
door. A telephone on the table offered a connection with any part
of the studio or with the city exchanges, so that an official of
the company could be reached while viewing a picture.
As we entered I tried to study the different faces, but found it
a hopeless task on account of the poor light. Kennedy took his
place at the little table, switching on the little shaded lamp
and motioning for Mackay to set the traveling bag so he could
open it and view the contents. Then Mackay took post at the door,
a hand in his pocket, and I realized that the district attorney
clasped a weapon beneath the cover of his clothing, and was
prepared for trouble. I moved over to be ready to help Kennedy if
necessary. As Kennedy took his key, unlocking the bag, it would
have been possible to have heard the slightest movement of a hand
or foot, the faintest gasp of breath, so tense was the silence.
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