Motion Picture (Aug 1935-Jan 1936)

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I'm surprised that some of you haven't wanted to walk out before. Now, this is all going to be over in a few moments." He was carrying a black case, resembling a portable typewriter. He placed it on the table, then walked into the center of the group. "Sure nobody wants to confess?" He looked around carefully. With his entrance, a pall of uncertainty had settled over everyone again. "All right. Now, we're going to settle this. I am going to take the fingerprints on the electric light switches in this room and then take the fingerprints of the five most logical suspects. I have figured it out that none of the guests touched the light switches except Miss Blondell, that is, for a logical reason. Undoubtedly, only a servant's prints will turn up except Miss Blondell's and the guilty party's. I am taking it for granted the switchplates were polished on the day of a party, Miss Farrell?" CHE nodded, but did not speak. Her ^ eyes had widened until they had lost entirely that natural roundness which is so integral a part of her attractiveness. She was looking around at her guests — slowly, curiously. "And what if we refuse to be fingerprinted, Ryan ?" Jimmy Gleason's words were not excited but calm and determined. "Then I can only think you have something to hide." "Well, you can't think / have something to hide!" Glenda rose. She seemed fully two inches taller as she drew herself up with superb dignity. "I absolutely refuse to have my guests fingerprinted, Mr. Ryan. After all, there has not been a murder committed. I cannot locate a pendant which I valued highly. But no piece of jewelry is worth enough to subject guests in my home to such a humiliation." The detective looked at her and bowed slightly. "Your motive is excellent, Miss Farrell. You are a friend worth having. I even hope to have the honor to claim it myself, some day. But I believe you are mistaken." They looked at each other for a moment. Glenda coldly determined ; Ryan with his daredevil twinkles dancing defiantly and yet charmingly at her. Who would have won that silent battle if Ralph Bellamy had not snapped the tension between them ? "Glenda, I feel as I did before. We must clear this up. I insist upon being fingerprinted. That's the scientific way to settle any mysterious matter. It proves this fellow knows his business. Come, folks, we are putting Glenda on the spot when we are the ones who should be on the spot. We are her guests. Her necklace has disappeared while we were all present. Let's play the game. Besides, this is a thrill. More exciting than any picture I ever got a crack at. Pll be the first, Ryan. How do you do it?" "Just a moment," Glenda held up her hand. "I insist that this be absolutely optional. I will tell you right now that I feel no resentment toward anyone who refuses. I will not be fingerprinted myself to set the example." ANOTHER silence. Bellamy started ^* to speak again but Ryan waved him to be quiet. John Mack Brown rose and walked to the table. "Is everything in this little case, Ryan ?" he drawled. "Everything," Ryan turned his back on the rest and joined Brown. "But I thought you had to photograph fingerprints," Mary Brian said as she ran forward. "You do, Miss Brian. You dust them, photograph them, develop them, study them through a microscope and if there's the least doubt you study them under violet rays." "Well, you can't do all that tonight, can you ?" Marj' was eagerly excited. "I can do it all in a very few moments. I could even use the violet ray but I don't expect that will be necessary. I have everything in this little case. We have gone far in developing the fingerprint system, Miss Brian." "Oh, do mine ! This is fun ! Really, it is. He can take your fingerprints and show them to you in just a few moments. Let's do it !" It was Mary who really won the battle. Hollywood's famous are always interested in new thrills, novel experiences. They forgot temporarily the real reason for this "fun" in their enthusiasm to see "fingerprints worked." Ryan knew he had won because the responsible one would not dare to join the hostess in objections. "I'll do the electric light plates first," he said gaily, catching the spirit and making it into a game. "I'll even let you help me. Miss Brian. You can hold this little light while I use the camera. Oh, by the way," he turned toward Miss Farrell, hanging back from the circle, and drew her into it by the simple expedient of making her move forward to hear his direct words to her. TT WAS a great game. They were like ■* children seeing a Punch and Judy show for the first time. Before they had learned the knack of how it was done, the prints on the light plates were dusted, photographed, developed, and lying on the table to dry. "And now, you're first, Miss Brian. You must be careful, now, because Uncle Sam has you catalogued, you know !" The spirit of fun lasted until the last print had been taken. Then the de 80 Motion Picture for October, 1935