DEATH on THE SET

Auckland Star, Volume LXVII, Issue 151, 27 June 1936, Page 10 (Supplement)

DEATH on THE SET

hi *j VICTOR MacOUß®

CHAL'TEII I\'.—Continued. , Wlien Miss Slade got hack after some ten minutes' absence, Ladv Blanche, had left the room. Morden was in the inner part of the room, a small dressing-room in which he kept some clothing. He had already half-changed from the grey suit into the blue one 011 answering Miss Blade's knock, and called to her from the dressing-room to get along with the work interrupted by Lady Blanche. Miss Slade took her former seat at the end of Morden's desk —the chair, it seemed, in which Morden was found dead —and began her work again. After a few minutes Morden came cut of the dressingroom, still in his shirt sleeves. He came over to Jessie Slade, put his hands 011 her shoulders, then stretching over he looked through her papers. He told her she need not worry about them any longer. The picture he said was "in the can"—meaning that it was as good as done. It was "lousy" anyhow. And here again was the reiteration that Morden was "through."

There was reason enough, Burford elicited for emotional distress in this over-worked young woman. She had been working for Morden for over two years, during which time the producer, though seldom definitely unkind to her, had seemed to regard her as impersonally as he might have a machine. She had seen him, that morning, give an exhibition of ill-temper and rudeness which far surpassed all' former displays of like kind, but which did not visit her in the smallest degree. On the contrary, for the first time in their association. Morden seemed to recognise her as a human being, being gentle with her and calling her by her Christian name.. She had been proud of her association with Morden, proud of his growing and deserved fame, and a good deal more than half in love with him already. Strung up as she was that morning she was ripe fruit for Morden's picking. , ; He had only to tell her that he was tired, that she was pretty, that of all the people with whom he was associated in the Titan she was the only one faithful to him for his own sake and not for what she could get out of him, to find her willingly in his arms.

"He said lie loved me, Mr. Burford," tlie girl sobbed. "He had been vdry nervy and worried for days, not able to concentrate —and—and I let liiin love me. I didn't realise what he meant wlien lie said he was through with everything. And now —now he's dead. I can't bear to think of it !" Burford did what he could to soothe her. It was easier now that she had got over the confession she had been aching, yet scared, to make. Anil having contrived to calm her, he quietly got the rest of her story from her. Towards six—the girl could not be exact as to time—Morden had sent her with a message to Miss Lyon. At the same time he gave instructions for several of the technical departments. These errands occupied her for about half an hour. When she returned Morden was again alone. She saw him then only for a minute or two. He kissed her and *old her to go home after she had passed the word for the company to dismiss. Burford's last question was if she had ever seen a revolver in Morden's possession, but she said 110. She had never seen any about the studio except those that were made harmless for use as properties. The instructions given by Morden through Miss Slade just before six to the technicians in various departments (as opposed to those still detained on the set) permitted them to go home. Burford was able to eliminate them from consideration by the times at which they had checked out as recorded at the west door of the studios. He was able also to account for the men who had been working 011 the set. They had all checked out soon after sixthirty. The youngster acting as callboy left at the same time. Of the people left on the dressing room side after six-thirty, Burford was able later to dismiss two—Lady Blanche Anibrage's woman and the man dressing James Frayle. Lady Blanche Ambrage had taken off her make-up and changed immediately after her short and angry interview with Morden (short unless she stayed to see him begin changing his clothes, and angry according to the evidence of Jessie Slade) round about 5.20 to 5.25 a.m. "Lady Blanche was still vexed when she came back from seeing Mr. Morden," said Lady Blanche's woman in her interview with Burford. "She said that contract or no contract she would see Mr. Morden damned before she acted with him again. She told me to pack up for her, but to leave her bags to be called for. I changed her, then packed, and I left soon after six, taking a small bag with some of Lady Blanche's valuables to leave it for her at her flat in Hertford Street. Mr. Vandyck was with Lady Blanche when I left." The man dressing Frayle had got away soon after half past six. The young actor had made him pack the dinner clothes worn at the Piedmont, saying that for once l?e would go home in the clothes he had worn on the set. This meant that Frayle had merely to remove his make-up when word came that no further work was to be done that morning. The man carried Frayle's bag to the west door when he left. From the door-keeper and the watchmen Burford was able to confirm the statements of both these people as to the time they 'had left the studios. "Last person to leave of the night lor was Miss Lyon's dresser, sir—Mrs. Hipkin," said Grover, the door-keeper. "That was a good 20 minutes or so after Miss Lyon and her lot left. Herb Scroggins, the watchman —yes, an' Batson, loo—was with me at the time. That was just before they set out on their rounds, you see, sir?" "I see," said Burford. "So that at seven-fifteen, apart from you and the two watchmen, Mr. Morden was the only person left in the studios?" "I wouldn't put it as early as that. It was nearer twenty-five past seven," the door-keeper asserted. "But it was before seven when Miss Lyon and her three companions left the studios, surely?" "Nup!" the man said, positively. "It was a few minutes after seven when Miss Lyon and Lady Ambrage and helot left, sir." "You can be sure?" "Certain, sir. I looked at the clock behind me. 'S a habit with me." Burford left it at that. He passed to another point. 1

(Author of "Ultimatum," "The Secret Fool," Gambletown," "Death Behind the Door," etc., etc.)

"Did you see Mr. Morden arrive this morning?" he asked.

"I did. He came in just before tenpast one. Drove right into the parage in his own car. I noticed as I came along to see you that it's still there."

The garage occupied a good deal of the ground floor space of the building by the west door. Burford had al ready taken time to consider it. and to have a look at Morden's car. He nodded.

"Did you notice how Mr. Morden was dressed?" he asked the man.

"Slaeklisli 'grey suit with a muffler round his neck above the open collar of a tennis shirt. Brown shoes. Xo hat."

"Pretty good!" Burford commended his «ift of observation. "Thank you. Grover. That will do meantime. I'm obliged to you for turning up out of your time." "'A'sail right, sir. Allying to oblige." It was becoming evident that Morden had met his death somewhere between 0.30 and 7.50 - <i period fixed so far by the evidence of Miss Slade and of the watchman, Herbert Scroggins, who had found the body. Miss Slade, of the persons Burford had questioned, had been the last to see Morden alive.

The only individual whom Burford had interviewed of those five who had been in the dressing room part of the building after the last known sight of Morden alive, Miss Lyon had made 110 mention of hearing the sound of a shot. That Burford did not ask her directly if she had heard such a sound was due to his instinctive feeling that the girl was hedging. It would be a test of the apparent frankness of her story if, later 011, he could find that a shot had been heard during the time while the girl was on the dressing room side. Considering her promptness in coining out to Hendon. and her protested readiness to be helpful, she would find it hard to excuse omitting a point so important from her story. It was possible, of course, that the shot killing -Morden could have been fired while she was in her dressing room without her hearing it. Burford, unless it should be proved beyond doubt that Morden had died after Miss Lyon and her three companions had left the studios, did not mean to leave this question to speculation. He meant to experiment,' not only as this matter of being able to hear the shot touched Stan Lvon, but as it touched the other three. The dressing room section of the building was solidly built, and Cavley Morden's room was some distance from those used by Frayle and the two women, but the section was warrened with corridors and stairs —open channels along which the sound of a shot might echo.

Where the door keeper and the two watchmen were concerned, it was next to useless—although in strict routine Burford did so —to question tliem ns to whether they had heard a shot. So much of the building was constructed for the exclusion of sound that, unless one or other had been within tlie walls of the dressing room section, it was a thousand to one against tlieni hearing the report. There was, as may have been hinted through the police surgeon's talk with Burford, little chance of fixing the time of death from pathological evidences. Any calculation from the onset of rigor was vitiated by the fact that the body had stiffened in the act of death. It might have been possible to have determined the time of death within an hour or so from the condition of the effused blood, but here so wide a margin of time made such a test useless, since Burford was at need to fix a time within SO minutes. The question for Burford was: Was Morden slain while the three players and the publicity man were still in the building, or afterwards? Was he slain while Miss Lyon's dresser still was about, or after that even? If after the latter had gone, then the time fined down to a mere 25 minutes. The evidence of Mrs. Hipkins might be very important. But, oddly enough, Mrs. Ilipkins was the solitary one of tlio working staff summoned by Mr. Rosonbaum who had not put in an appearance. Burford sought out Rosenbaum. "Mrs. 'Ipkin—Mrs. 'Ipkin!" exclaimed that individual. "Jew meanter si\' she 'asn't turned up yet? 'An there's Stan Lyon 'erself the first on the mat!" Burford's ears moved. "What has that to do with it?" he asked. "W'y, Mrs. 'Ipkin is Stan Lyon's personal maid, inspector. I meanter siy, she's attached to Stan all the time, in and away from the stoodios." "Lives with Miss Lyon, do you mean?" "That's what I mean, inspector. She's Stan's bong toot affair. Listen!!" said Mr. Rosenbaum indignantly. "I'll get through on the 'phone to Mrs. 'Ipkin myself personally an' ask 'er what the hell. How's that?" "Very kind of you. But I shouldn't put it so peremptorily. It might Master her—and I like my witnesses unflustered. Just have someone inquire if Mrs. Hipkin is likely to come out to Hendon —she's under no compulsion to do so, remember—because, if not, I'll make it convenient to call on her later." "Well—just as you like," said the studio despot somewhat huffily. He went to a side door of his room, poked his head round its edge, and issued the necessary instructions. "By the way, Mr. Rosenbaum," said Burford. "There's a door from the lobby close by Morden's room leading into that back street. Do many people make use of it?" "Hardly anybody. Nobody, in fact — 'cept Cayley did sometimes. 'E was a queer bird, ole Cayley. You never knew 'ow to 'ave 'im, an' 'e'd no sooner spotted that door than 'e wanted a. key for it all to 'imself. There was a bit of a row about that. Discipline's discipline, you know. But Cayley 'ad the bulge on us, 'an we 'ad to let 'im 'ave the key." "Anybody else have one 1" "Well—l've got cne, though I 'ardly ever use it," said Mr. Rosenbaum. "Then there's one 'ung up on the keyboard in the west doorkeeper's cabin." "Only three in existence," said Burford. "Where do you keep yours ?" "On this board where I keep some of the special store keys," said Mr. Rosenbaum. He went over to the board. "Blimey!" he exclaimed. "Blowed if the thing ain't gone!" "Gone ?" "Lifted — pinched—snitched—blinkin well perloined!" "You're sure ?" • "Certain!" replied Mr. Rosenbaum, pawing excitedly at the remaining keys. "'Ere! See for yourself. 'Ere's the i empty hook. 'Vimy Road, A.,' it says on the plate. The thing's gone!"

"Can you remember when you last saw it?" Burford demanded. "Yestidday. Musta done. I'm always usin' keys, ail' I'd 'vu noticed if the 'ook 'ad bin empty. Blimey! 'Ere's a fine 'ow-do!" A knock came on the inner door of the room, and a girl entered. "It was Miss Lyon herself who answered, Mr. Rosenbaum," she said. "Mrs Hipkins could not get away earlier, but she's now 011 her way to Hendon." "Oke!" said Mr. Rosenbaum. "Say, listen, Miss Potter! 'Y r e you been takin' the key of that backdoor—Vimy Road, A.. I mean?" "Me, Mr. Rosenbaum? Xo, sir." "Been givin' it to anybody, then? "Xo. Mr. Rosenbaum." "When did you last see it?" "I couldn't say. sir," the girl replied. "You know I don't touch the keys without your permission." Mr. Rosenbaum seemed to be trying to lift himself by the little amount of hair he had left. "Keeeli!" he said through his clenched teeth. "Yaarh!" Then all at once he calmed. "Oke. Miss Potter!" lie said quietly. "Oaddle-doo!" The girl went out. Rosenbaum flung out his arms in a gesture of resignation, and let himself flop into his chair. "Well —there you are Professor —I mean, Inspector. Mystery 011 mystery. Crime 011 crime. Susanside, moider, bu'glarv. 'S all up, to you!" he said. Burford stood looking at the little man with his teeth on his upper lip. "Yes," he said quietly. "It's all up to me. I think—while I'm waiting for Mrs. Hipkin to turn up—l'll just have another look at that door." (To be continued Saturday next.)