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Page 22
"The next office on this side is Millard's," volunteered Werner.
"He's the only scenario writer dignified with quarters in this
building."
"Manton has other writers, hasn't he?" Kennedy asked.
"Yes, the scenario department is on the third floor across the
court, above the laboratory and cutting rooms."
"Who else is in the building here?"
"There are six rooms on this floor," Werner replied. "Manton, the
waiting room, myself, Millard, and the two other directors. Below
is the general reception room, the cashier, the bookkeepers and
stenographers."
As Manton probably was having trouble obtaining his connection,
and as Kennedy continued to question Werner concerning the
general arrangement of the different floors in the different
buildings about the quadrangle, all uninteresting to me, I
determined to look about a bit on my own hook. I was still
anxious to be of genuine assistance to Kennedy, for once, through
my greater knowledge of the film world.
Strolling out into the corridor, I went to the door of Millard's
room. To my disappointment, it was locked. Continuing down the
hall, I stole a glance into each of the two directors' quarters
but saw nothing to awaken my suspicion or justify my intrusion.
Beyond, I discovered a washroom, and, aware suddenly of the
immense amount of dust I had acquired in the ride in from
Tarrytown, 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 the
case of Manton, in luxurious equipment for all the various
departments of his establishment. I had noticed the offices,
furnished with a richness worthy of a bank or some great downtown
institution. Now, in the lavatory, immaculate with its white tile
and modern appointments, I saw a shelf literally stacked, in this
day of paper, with linen towels of the finest quality.
As I drew the water, hot instantly, my eye caught, half in and
half out of the wire basket beneath the stand, one of the towels
covered with peculiar yellow spots. Immediately my suspicions
were awakened. I picked it up gingerly. At close range I saw that
the spots were only chrome yellow make-up, but there were also
spots of a different nature. I did not stop to think of the
unlikeliness of the discovery of a real clue under these
circumstances, analyzed afterward by Kennedy. I folded the towel
hastily and hurried to rejoin him, to show it to him.
I found him with Werner, waiting for the results of Manton's
efforts to locate Millard. Almost at the moment I rejoined the
two a boy came to summon Werner to one of the sets out on the
stage itself. Kennedy and I were alone. I showed him the towel.
At first he laughed, "You'll never make a detective, Walter," he
remarked. "This is only simple coloring matter-Chinese yellow, to
be exact. And will you tell me, too"--he became ironical--"how do
you expect to find clues of this sort here for a murder committed
in Tarrytown when all the people present were held out there and
examined, when we are the first to arrive back here?
"Yellow, you know, photographs white. Chinese yellow is used
largely in studios in place of white in make-up because it does
not cause halation, which, to the picture people, is the bane of
their existence. White is too glaring, reflects rays that blur
the photography sometimes.
"If you will notice, the next time you see them shooting a scene,
you will find the actors' faces tinged with yellow. Even
tablecloths and napkins and 'white' dresses are frequently
colored a pale yellow, although pale blue has the actinic
qualities of white for this purpose, and is now perhaps more
frequently used than yellow."
I was properly chastened. In fact, though I did not say much, I
almost determined to let him conduct his case himself.
Kennedy saw my crestfallen expression and understood. He was
about to say something encouraging, as he handed back the towel,
when his eye fell on the other end of it, which, indeed, I myself
had noticed.
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