Picture Play Magazine (Mar-Jul 1929)

98 Continued from page 94 "Wait and see. You're a good actress, I know. But it will be just as weil to have you as much surprised as she'll be." "Is that all you're going to tell me?" the girl asked. "Every word," John Barrett said. CHAPTER XXXII. THE WEB UNTANGLED. "Your breakfast, madam, and a few roses I gathered for you in the garden early, with the dew on them," announced Mary the chambermaid, in the room of the drawn green curtains. The lady in bed murmured gratitude. Even in the undersea light, the newcomer noticed that the fading beauty had made herself up to inspire admiration. She could not let even the eyes of a servant behojd her at her worst. Scarcely *had,.the tray 'been placed on a table drawn up at the bedside, when the telephone sounded. The instrument stood on a desk some distance from the bed, but with a movement of surprise or fright the slim figure in. pink chiffon and lace would have sprung up to answer the unexpected summons, if the table with the tray on it hadn't been in the way. As it was, the safety of the breakfast was endangered, and the maid rushed to rescue it. "Do let me answer the phone, madam," she begged. "I'll hold it for you if it's anything important, but probably it's a message from downstairs, or some one has got the wrong room." Rose sank back on her pillows. Mary's offer and explanation seemed so sensible. The girl in cap and apron ran to the phone and stopped the persistent ringing. "Yes?" she answered. Then, as in bewilderment, after listening a moment, "What — what's' that? Hold on a second, please." She turned to the lady in bed. "Madam, it's some one calling from Hollywood. But it must be a mistake, for the person — it's a man's voice — says, 'Mrs. Rendel is to tell Rose Rosenkrantz that her friend from Buenos Aires has known for the last six weeks that his wife was dead there.' Does that make any sense to you, madam, and do you know any one of the name of Rose Rosenkrantz ?" No answer came. The chiffonclad form lay flat and still. "Madam !" exclaimed the maid. Still no answer. The girl put her lips to the instrument again. "What's the rest of the message for Mrs. Rendel, please?" she asked. But the tele \ Girl Comes to Hollywood phone was dead. After an instant of waiting she hung up the receiver, and went quickly to the bedside. The woman's dark eyes were half closed, her lips parted, and on her white face an expression of horror lingered. Madeleine Standish turned pale under her dusky powder. This woman deserved to die, and in her sensible moments the girl felt little false pity for a soul so utterly selfish and debased. But she did not want Rose Rosenkrantz to go safely out of the world without leaving a confession that would save Malcolm. She touched the left wrist. It was cool and pulseless between her fingers. Then her hand flew to the thinly covered breast, and found a faint, just perceptible fluttering. "Thank Heaven !" she whispered. On the dressing table she found a bottle of cologne and sprinkled the cold forehead. Soon the eyes opened and stared into hers. "I'm afraid you fainted, madam!" the maid murmured. "I hope that message didn't give. you bad news?" Rose sighed deeply, drawing in a long breath. "No — no," she faltered. "It — wasn't for me. If I fainted, it had nothing to do with that. I couldn't sleep last night. I often lose consciousness for a minute or two when I'm very tired. Did the person say who he was, or " "No, madam," replied the maid. "I inquired, but there was no answer. The person had rung off — probably found out he'd made a mistake." "Yes. Most likely," said Rose. "I'll have, my coffee now. Pour it out, please. Go to the left-hand drawer of the dressing table, will you? Look for a little cardboard box and bring it to me." Madeleine obeyed, with a leap of the heart. There was the box and on it a Spanish name, "Guadalera," with the address of a shop, followed by the name of a town — Tijuana. Madeleine remembered well that the poisort which killed Lady Gates had been officially analyzed as a new drug made from a plant found in Mexico. It was named "granil," and some doctors were said to prescribe it in very small doses as a heart stimulant. The girl could have cried out with joy as Rose removed the lid of the box .and revealed, lying in cotton, several tiny vials exactly resembling, the one found in Malcolm Allen's coat pocket after the death of his aunt at Montparnasse — the vial which, he stated, Lady Gates had had in her mesh bag, and from which she had asked him to drop a tablet into her glass. The lady in bed, whose hands and voice were tremulous, dropped an infinitesimal tablet into the last few drops in her coffee cup. "That is wonderful stuff!" she volunteered. "It acts on the heart in less than a minute. But a big dose of it is fatal. You may think me morbid, Mary — you who are so kind ! — but I don't mind telling you I've made up a few of these little things into bigger tablets, to have ready if life should grow too sad, too difficult, and I should wish to die. No doctor or druggist would* give one a dangerous dose,; so I had to do it myself. It .would be an easy way to die ! Instead of stimulating the heart, a big dose just stops its beating, quite soon, without pain." "Oh, madam, you wouldn't do such a dreadful thing as to kill yourself !" groaned the maid. "You, so young and beautiful !" "Not so young as you seem to think," said the other, "and ah, so weary of this world and its deceptions. But don't worry for the present. You needn't be afraid to leave me alone — I have an appointment which I hope to keep to-night. After that I may be happier, or — but I won't think of that now, or I'll not be able to go through the day." "She's dressed and up, and that white mantilla she puts on when she's going, out in the garden, is hanging over a chair," Madeleine whispered to John Barrett that evening when they met by appointment in a rustic summerhouse not far from Mrs. Rendel's favorite seat under an olive tree. "Almost any moment she may come, now, for she'll want to be waiting for Lopez. But we'd better not stop where we are. She must have noticed this summerhouse. Very likely she'll make Lopez come inside it, or in any case she wouldn't begin to talk, and he wouldn't let her, without looking into such a place to make sure no one was there." "I was going to suggest that very thing," answered Barrett. . "This hedge of arbor vitse will do for us. We can see where they station themselves, and if they do choose the summerhouse, we can listen under this tiny window* near the roof." Six seconds later the summerhouse was empty. Minutes passed. Five — ten — fifteen. There was little danger that any flirtatious couple from the hotel might seek this spot, for it was one of the least popular in the garden. At last the two screened by the hedge saw a white figure glide ghostlike to the bench under the tree, and beside it walked the form of a man of about the same height, gracefuHy slim. There was no moon, but the sky was silver-bright with stars, and Continued on page 100