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Page 70
I was amazed at the Machiavellian cleverness of Manton. Here he
was, on one hand openly working with, yet secretly ruining, the
Manton Pictures, while on the other hand he was covertly building
up the competing Fortune Features.
Kennedy paced out into the little hall of our suite and back. He
faced our visitor once more.
"Why did you come to see me this morning? At our last encounter,
you may recall you said you wished you could throw me down the
steps."
Phelps smiled ruefully. "That was a mistake. It was the way I
felt, but--I'm sorry."
"Now--?"
Again the black clouds overshadowed the features of the
financier. "Now I want you to bring out and prove the things I've
told you." The malice showed in his voice plainly, for the first
time. "I want it proved in court that Manton is a cheap crook.
When you uncover the murderer of Stella Lamar you will find that
the moral responsibility for her death traces right back to Lloyd
Manton. I want him driven out of the business."
Kennedy's attitude changed. As he escorted Phelps to the door his
tones were self-controlled. "Anything of the sort is beyond my
province. My task is simply to find the person who killed the
girl."
When the financier was gone I turned to Kennedy eagerly. "What do
you think?" I asked.
"I think, more than ever, that we should investigate Fortune
Features. Let's have a look at the telephone book."
There was no studio of the new corporation in New York, but we
did find one listed in New Jersey, just across the river, at Fort
Lee. We walked from the university down the hill and over to the
ferry. On the other side a ten minutes' street-car ride took us
to our destination.
Facing us was a huge barn-like structure set down in the midst of
a little park. Inquiry for Manton brought no response whatever;
rather, surprise that we should be asking for him here. However,
I reflected that that was exactly what we ought to expect if
Manton was working under cover. The girl at the telephone
switchboard, smiling at Kennedy, had a suggestion.
"They're taking a storm exterior down in the meadow," she
explained. "Perhaps he's down there, among the visitors--or
perhaps there's someone who will be able to give you some
information."
I glanced outdoors at the brightly shining sun. "A storm?" I
repeated, incredulously.
"Yes," she smiled. "It might interest you to see it."
Following her directions, we started across country, leaving the
studio building some distance behind and entering a broad expanse
of meadow beyond a thin clump of trees. At the farther end we
could see a large group of people and paraphernalia which, at the
distance, we could not make out.
However, it was not long after we emerged from the trees that we
perceived they were photographing squarely in our direction.
Several began waving their arms wildly at us and shouting.
Kennedy and I, understanding, turned and advanced, keeping well
out of the camera lines, along the edge of the field.
"Hello!" a voice greeted us as we approached the group standing
back and watching the action.
To my surprise it was Millard, with the spectators. I looked
about for Manton but did not see him, nor anyone else we knew.
"It's a storm and cyclone," said Millard, his attention rather on
what was going on than on us.
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