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Page 63
Suddenly the music struck up once more. Enid rose, adjusting the
straps of her gown.
"There!" she exclaimed, smiling abruptly. "I thought you ought to
know that, though I hate to peddle gossip. Now I must hurry back.
I've been away long enough. But come down later and dance."
She swept off without further formality. An instant afterward we
saw her in the clasp of Millard once again. We watched during the
number and encore; then Kennedy called for the check.
"Let's go up to the apartment," he suggested. "I'd like to talk
some of these things out with you. It will help me clarify my own
impressions."
Underneath the balcony I noticed Kennedy turn for a last glance
at Manton's party. I paused to look, also. Enid was leaning
forward, talking to Millard earnestly, emphasizing what she had
to say with characteristic movements of her head.
"She's pumping Millard for more information about Stella Lamar,"
I remarked.
Kennedy had no comment.
XVII
AN APPEAL
We strolled up Broadway, resisting the attraction of a garish new
motion-picture palace at which Manton's previous release with
Stella Lamar was now showing to capacity--much to the delight of
the exhibitor who greatly complimented himself on his good
fortune in being able to take advantage of the newspaper
sensation over the affair.
On we walked, Kennedy mostly in silent deduction, I knew, until
we came to the upper regions of the great thoroughfare, turned
off, and headed toward our apartment on the Heights, not far from
the university.
We had scarcely settled ourselves for a quiet hour in our
quarters when the telephone rang. I answered. To my amazement I
found that it was Marilyn Loring.
"Is Professor Kennedy in?" she asked.
"Yes, Miss Loring. Just a--"
"Never mind calling him to the phone, Mr. Jameson. I've been
trying to find him all evening. He was not at the laboratory,
although I waited over an hour. Just tell him that there's
something I am very anxious to consult him about. Ask him if it
will be all right for me to run up to see him just a few
minutes."
I explained to Kennedy.
"Let her come along," he said, as surprised as I was. Then he
added, humorously, "I seem to be father confessor to-night."
After sinking back in my seat in comfort once more I observed a
quiet elation in Kennedy's manner. All at once it struck me what
he was doing. The multitude of considerations in this case, the
many cross leads to be followed, had confused me. But now I
realized that, after all, this was only the approved Kennedy
method, the mode of procedure which had never failed to produce
results for him. Without allowing himself to be disturbed by the
great number of people concerned, he had calmly started to pit
them one against the other, encouraging each to talk about the
rest, making a show of his apparent inaction and lack of haste so
that they, in turn, would shake off the excitement immediately
following the death of the girl and thereby reveal their normal
selves to his keen observation.
Not five minutes passed before Marilyn was announced. Evidently
she had been seeking us eagerly, for she had probably telephoned
from a near-by pay station.
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