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Page 39
Slowly, carefully, Kennedy went through each scene to the
beginning. "Certainly a dramatic opening for a mystery picture,"
he remarked, suddenly, as though his mind had wandered from his
problem to other things. "We must admit that Millard can handle a
moving-picture scenario most beautifully."
Whether it was professional jealousy or the thought of Enid,
rather than the memory of my own poor attempts at screen writing,
I certainly was in no mood to agree with Kennedy, for all that I
knew he was correct.
"Here!" He thrust the binder in my hands. "Read that first
scene," he directed. "Meanwhile I am going to phone Mackay to
make sure he has had the house guarded and to make double sure no
one goes near the library. We're going out to Tarrytown again,
Walter, and in the biggest kind of hurry."
"What's the idea, Craig?" Kennedy's occasional bursts of
mysteriousness, characteristic of him and often necessary when
his theories were only half formed and too chaotic for
explanations, always piqued me.
He did not seem to hear. Already he was at the telephone,
manipulating the receiver hook impatiently. "What a dummy I am!"
he exclaimed, with genuine feeling. "What--what an awful dummy!"
Knowing I would get nothing out of him just yet, I turned to the
scene, reading as he told me. At first I could not see where the
detail concerned Stella Lamar in any way. Then I came to the
description of her introductory entrance, the initial view of her
in the film. The lines of typewriting suddenly stood out before
me in all their suggestive clearness.
The spotlight in the hands of a shadowy figure roves across
the wall and to the portieres. As it pauses there the
portieres move and the fingers of a girl are seen on the
edge of the silk. A bare and beautiful arm is thrust through
almost to the shoulder and it begins to move the portieres
aside, reaching upward to pull the curtains apart at the
rings.
"You think there's something about the portieres--" I began.
Then I saw that Kennedy had his connection, that something
disturbed him, that some intelligence from the other end had
caught him by surprise.
"You say you were just trying to get me, Mackay? You've something
to tell me and you want me to come right out--you have summoned
Phelps and he's on his way from the city also--?"
"What happened?" I asked, as Kennedy hung up.
"I don't know, Walter. Mackay said he didn't want to talk over
the phone and that we had just time to catch the express."
"But--"
"Hurry!" He glanced about as if wondering whether any of his
scientific instruments would help him.
XI
FORESTALLED
On the train Kennedy left me, to look through the other cars,
having the idea that Phelps might be aboard also. But there were
no signs of the banker. We would reach Tarrytown first unless he
had chosen to motor out.
Mackay was waiting at the station to meet us and to take us to
the house. The little district attorney was obviously excited.
"Was the place guarded well last night?" asked Kennedy, almost
before we had shaken hands.
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