The haunting hand
her powder pad. “Or rather, if he’s heard about it it’s by snooping
round, for he hasn’t been officially notified. You see”--she gave a
sudden laugh--“the directors don’t know themselves. I didn’t want
anything to leak out, so I merely sent a note to our manager, Marx
Klein, saying that there was something of the utmost importance which
I wished to take up with the board of directors to-day, and would he
please call a meeting. He sent back word that he would.”
“You’ve certainly got the power to make them sit up and take notice,
Miss Delamar.” Margot smiled with frank approval.
“I’ve got my nerve, perhaps you mean, but it’s this way. When you get
to be a star, you can have as much ‘temperament’ as you like. They
don’t dare squelch it. So when I ask for anything special, they take
for granted that a refusal will mean some kind of a blow-out on my
part, and they don’t dare risk it. I’ve never asked for a board
meeting _before_, so they’re sure it’s something out of the ordinary.”
“Which it certainly is,” laughed Margot.
“Well--at least it will mean the official removal of Stoner’s fat
head. A sore head it’ll be before we get through with him.”
A tap on the door, and the black face of Corinne’s maid, with bright,
bulging eyes, whispering to her mistress that the director would like
to have a few minutes’ conversation with her. Could he come in?
“Now, what the devil!” Corinne scowled, looking from the maid to
Margot.
“Do you suppose he’s come to beg for mercy?” Margot whispered.
“A lot of good it’ll do him! Shall we see him or not?” She seemed to
depend on Margot’s judgment.
“I think we might as well,” Margot said thoughtfully. “It’s always as
well to hear whatever your enemy--or your victim”--she suppressed a
giggle--“has to say for himself.”
“All right. Tell him to come in,” Corinne said to the maid.
Stoner stepped into the small inclosure. If the girls had expected to
see a browbeaten, anxious or suppliant Frederick Stoner, they were
disappointed. His shoulders were straight, his head erect, and his
eyes clear and direct in their gaze, first at one girl, then at the
other. In sheer astonishment at his expression and attitude, Corinne
kept silence. Her face showed her surprise, but Margot’s expression
was not so easy to read. She wondered if he’d come with any sort of a
threat up his sleeve. It would serve no purpose if so.
“Well,” he said, slowly. “I hear a board meeting is to take place
shortly. I heard of it last night. I’ve got something to say to you
two. I’m not a fool, whatever else you may think me, and I know damn
well that I gave myself away in this very room, yesterday.” He looked
at Margot as he spoke.
“You certainly did,” she said quickly.
“But that wouldn’t cut much ice, Miss Anstruther, if you didn’t have
the goods on me in the person of that skinny little thing, Stella
Ball.” Again he paused and stared at her.
Humph! That impromptu shot of hers had certainly gone home! It was a
good shot, anyway. A legitimate shot! She said quietly:
“Of course I knew, Mr. Stoner, that you were intelligent enough to
realize just what Stella Ball’s recognition of you and testimony would
mean.”
“Right. But if I’d been smart enough to bluff you out on your
deductions, and all that tripe that didn’t and couldn’t _prove_
anything, you’d probably never have thought of the Stella end of it.”
Margot merely smiled, but her instant thought was that he had more
logic than she had supposed.
“Did you come here now just for the pleasure of telling us what we
know already--that we’ve got the goods on you?” Corinne’s voice rasped
sharply and baneful yellow lights shone in her green eyes.
“No, I didn’t,” Stoner snapped at her. “I’ll tell you what I came for.
To tell you that you won’t have the satisfaction of making a fool of
me before any company directors.” He turned to look again at Margot.
“I decided last night to choose an alternative _not_ suggested by you.
I’m going to get out while the getting’s good, but I’m not _sneaking_
out. And, by the way, Miss Anstruther, you may be interested to hear
that the lovely Lulu is coming out there too.”
Corinne gave a start, and her eyes drew together in a quick frown as
she stared at Stoner. There was something in his smile that suggested
malice.
“Why should I be interested particularly in Lulu’s plans?” Margot
asked the question with cool impudence because his smile affected her
unpleasantly.
He shrugged one shoulder. “Thought you’d be glad to know she’s getting
out of your way.”
“Out of _my_ way!” Irritation gave way to astonishment. “Just what do
you mean by that, Mr. Stoner?”
“We--ll----” He rubbed the back of his head in affected embarrassment.
“Valery, you know. Thought you’d be glad to have her out of _his_
way.”
Margot regarded him with puzzled eyes, but Corinne’s lips smiled
sneeringly.
“What perfect rot!” she said disgustedly.
Stoner turned to her angrily. “Where do you come into this thing?
Margot’s no fool. She must know that Gene Valery is rushing the
Leinster kid. Why, I saw them together at a night club, about one
o’clock this morning.”
“I believe you’re lying.” Corinne spoke with deceptive gentleness.
“Just when, may I ask, did you engage Lulu to go out to the coast?”
“Oh--recently,” Stoner said, indicating vagueness of time and space
with a wave of his fat hand.
From narrowed eyes Corinne watched him, gave a low sound that
suggested a grunt of contempt and disbelief, then turned a friendly
glance upon Margot.
“Of course, Miss Anstruther, neither you nor I have the slightest
interest in Lulu Leinster’s movements. But we’re very much interested
in Stoner’s. You say,” she said sternly, looking at the director,
“that you’re getting out of here. Just when, may I ask?”
“Mailed my resignation to the president last night. He got it this
morning. I don’t know what you told them, but from what I gather, you
merely asked to have a meeting called. Well, I’ve got a ticket and
Pullman reservation to California” (he dug into his pocket, brought
forth the tickets and swung them lightly in front of him). “I’m going
straight to Hollywood. Made arrangements at that end by wire. I’m
taking a train in about an hour, at the Penn station. As your idea
seemed to be to get rid of me, I take it you’ll be satisfied with the
little plan I’ve made.” His smile at Corinne was sardonic.
For a moment she was at loose ends. She threw a worried glance at
Margot.
“You _did_ tell him you wouldn’t do anything to him if he’d get out,
but what in God’s name will I tell the directors, not to speak of
Klein and the president, Joseph Livingstone.”
“You can tell ’em anything you please!” Stoner spoke with sudden
fierceness. “Spill _all_ the beans, for all I care! They won’t be able
to get hold of me. Margot said she’d see that the matter’d be dropped
if I’d admit to the directors that what she says is true, and leave
the company. What’s the use taking the president into your sweet
confidence,” his thick lips curled bitterly, “if it’s on the books
that he won’t punish me? I’m going anyway, in five minutes, and nobody
can stop me that I know of.”
“I agree with Mr. Stoner,” Margot said quietly. “Let him go as he
plans to. Call off the meeting. They’ll just think your temperament’s
working over-time.” She gave Corinne a friendly little smile.
Deep puckers filled the space between Corinne’s two, rather lovely,
green eyes. Her mouth drew into a straight line, and she took a few
nervous puffs at her cigarette. Then, surprisingly, the expression of
anxious uncertainty changed to a sparkling of the eye, and a smile of
almost childish satisfaction. She threw away her cigarette with a
gesture as of having more vital matters to deal with.
“I know _just_ what I’ll say to the president and directors! It’s come
to me like a flash!”
Stoner studied her with dislike in his eyes.
“Don’t try to spring anything that’ll mean the breaking of Miss
Anstruther’s word to me!”
“Oh, _you_!” Contempt unspeakable in Corinne’s face and voice. “I
wasn’t even _thinking_ of you that minute!”
Blank amazement in Stoner’s face and on Margot’s. Then Stoner said,
addressing Margot:
“I guess that’s about all. As for you, Miss Anstruther, I believe
you’ll do exactly what you said you would--give me a chance to get
out, and drop the case against me. You’re too clever to be anything
but square.”
She looked at him thoughtfully. His remarks about Gene had obviously
been inspired by jealous malice, and she was inclined to agree with
Corinne that he had lied, although it seemed like rather a silly and
superfluous lie. Well--time for Gene later. No use getting upset by
anything Stoner said. So far as leaving without springing any new
tricks on them was concerned, she decided that he was acting in good
faith. Better let him go and drop everything, although what Corinne
suddenly felt inspired to tell the directors she couldn’t imagine. She
addressed Stoner quietly.
“All right, Mr. Stoner. You can count on my word. Hollywood is a
comfortably long ways off. You’re wise in going there. But I’d like to
ask you to tell me something before you go. Two questions. First, how
did you first get in touch with Murchison? I’d like to know.”
Stoner hesitated, then said slowly: “Might as well tell you. He came
to me a year ago, with some stones he wanted to sell. Heard I was
staging a costume play, and offered me a ruby for such a nominal sum
that it made me suspicious at once. I didn’t want anything to do with
stolen goods, and told him so, flat. He pulled a long, sad face, and a
long, unconvincing story. Said a rich friend had died and left him the
stones. Then he told me he was employed at the Fellowe Institute, and
said I could call up and verify that fact. I told him I’d do that and
then get in touch with him if I wanted to buy anything from him. So I
called up the Institute, found he was employed there all right--their
description of the old duck tallied with mine. But somehow that didn’t
convince me that he hadn’t stolen those stones. It sounded phony and
what he asked for them was ridiculous. Why, any jeweler would have
given four times as much and I told him so. He said he didn’t want to
bother with jewelers. So I dropped the matter.”
Stoner stopped to light a cigarette, and Margot said quickly:
“And when you read in the papers about the theft of the radium you
remembered Murchison, and you had a hunch he’d taken it?”
“Right. But Murchison came to my mind in connection with radium, only
because I got stumped trying to make a realistic scene in that picture
of mine, _The Masque of Life_. So I looked him up, and at first he
denied all knowledge of the radium. But I offered such a whacking
price for it--I thought at first I wanted to buy, but decided that
would be too dangerous, it was a veritable king’s ransom in
radium--that he weakened and admitted that he had it. The rest I guess
you know.”
“Second question, Mr. Stoner. What makes you suppose that you won’t be
brought back here from California, when Murchison’s trial takes place,
about six weeks from now? Are you so sure he won’t peach on you?”
“Dead sure!” Stoner spoke with conviction. “I’ll tell you why. I
arranged with Murchison in the beginning, that if anything happened
about the radium and he got caught, if he’d agree to keep me out of
it--never mention my name to a soul--I’d put ten thousand in the bank
for him. And I’ll do just that. In fact it’s done. I made all
arrangements the day after he was arrested. The minute the trial’s
over, if he’s kept his mouth shut, he’ll get notice that the money’s
in the bank in his name. If he squeals, he’ll get nothing, and it
won’t do _him_ any good to drag me into it. No matter what they could