Motion Picture Magazine (Feb-Jul 1919)

carved figures, was of solid mahogany. Everything in the room, from the big, heavy candelabras on the walls, which were covered with finely carved leather, to the large oil paintings, and the luxurious, dark red curtains, hung loosely before the doors on either side of the foyer, harmonized and indicated the care which had been exerted with every detail. The keen, observing eye of Inspector Henry took quick note of all these things as he stepped into the "set" and glanced about him. It was remarkable, interesting and instructive, to men like the inspector and Letherdale, who had never been inside a studio before. A moving picture camera rested on its tripod close by, with its lens pointing towards the vast array of splendor. The members of the company were scattered about the foyer, as they had been warned by Sergeant Claverly not to leave the building. Some were clustered in a little group around the guest table in the center of the room, chatting in low tones. Others were strolling impatiently back and forth, muttering words of anger, meanwhile casting furtive glances at the sergeant, who was seated on a luxurious sofa, against the wall, surveying the little gathering with an air of officiousness which was repelling to most of them. One group, consisting of two very attractive girls and two handsome young men, were seated on the steps of the big, broad staircase, at the rear of the room, leading to the second floor. The girls were clothed in gowns of wonderful creation and they had all the grace and poise befitting members of the elite, while the men in the latest fashion evening clothes, were quite as pleasing to look at, and appeared natural and very much at ease. There was no activity on the part of the company, and it was quite apparent that the tragedy had suddenly checked the order of things here, and completely stopped everything. The cameraman was chatting with the director on a big, silk-covered settee, which stood just outside the "set," while the group of grimy individuals, including electricians, carpenters, light men, property boys, and other members of the stage staff, were idly loafing about. The sudden appearance of the inspector and Letherdale was the signal for silence, on the part of everyone present, and they all looked up at the official of Scotland Yard, whose distinguished manner, aided by his robust figure and cold, serious countenance, immediately convinced them of his ability to command the situation. "Inspector Henry?" inquired the police sergeant as he came forward. "Sergeant," replied the other, by way of greeting. Then, he calmly added: "Where's the body?" "This way," said the officer as he started across the foyer. They walked to the rear of the room, and paused before a large screen, at the right of the staircase. This screen was a beautiful piece of Japanese handiwork, and the deft fingers of some ingenious oriental had embroidered a golden dragon on a black silk background. It had appeared in many important dramatic and emotional love scenes in the past, but these were all eclipsed by the tragic role it was playing now. For, as the men stepped behind it they were confronted with the body of Arthur Gebhardt. An opera cloak had been thrown over the lower part of the prostrate figure, and, as the inspector stooped and pulled this aside, there, before them, lay the body of a well proportioned, handsome man, whose silent countenance still bore traces of youth. His dark, glossy hair was brushed back revealing a broad forehead, above features which were almost classic in mould. He was immaculately dressed in evening clothes, and, as Letherdale gazed upon the figure and then glanced at the inspector and the uniformed sergeant, it seemed to him that all this was but a scene in a great moving picture drama, wherein the murdered man was playing an important role. Everything about the dead man proved he had been an individual of refinement. From his neatly trimmed hair, and smooth, clean complexion, to his long, slender hands there was evidence of extreme care and precision, which unquestionably stamped him as a gentleman. His features were wrapped in calm repose, and, if he had suffered much from the ugly wound in his right temple, it was not disclosed in his face, which was disclored with a greenish-blue pallor. From the position of the body there was nothing to show that the man had resisted an attack and there was no evidence of a struggle having taken place in the room. The inspector leaned over the body for some minutes as he examined the wound. He drew himself up and looked about the floor. The weapon was apparently missing. Then he turned to Sergeant Claverly, who had been silently watching him. "It was done with a 38-calibre," muttered the inspector. "Probably pierced his skull and entered the brain, resulting in almost instantaneous death." The sergeant simply nodded. "What time did this happen?" continued the Scotland Yard official. "It must have been about three o'clock," replied the sergeant. "The call came to the Hackney Station, and the captain rang me at my patrol box. My beat covers the last six blocks on Victoria Park Road, and. it took me, I should say, about fifteen minutes to get here." "The body was in exactly the same position when you arrived?" "Yes, sir. It was lying just where it does now." "It hasn't been touched since it was found?" "No, sir : at least, not since I arrived." "Very well, sergeant, you will please phone the coroner." As the inspector turned around he was confronted by actors, actresses, and members of the stage staff, who had quietly circled about him in morbid curiosity. He studied them momentarily, and then, as he discovered the troubled looks on some of the countenances, he spoke. "Now then, if you will all be seated, we will proceed," he said calmly. They silently obeyed, and the majority of them threw themselves on the steps of the staircase and awaited his next move. "I will start by saying that I realize this is a very unpleasant experience for most of you," he said, as he took his place in front of them and gazed over the little group. "You will all be shown the utmost consideration, and I expect to receive as much from you. I am here to get the facts in this case : to find out who killed Arthur Gebhardt !" "It was just like this, inspector ," spoke up a nervous little ingenue as she leaned forward excitedly. But the inspector ignored her as he added : "Interruptions will only result in further delay. It is solely up to you, how much longer you care to remain here." And his cold gaze rested on the actress as he said this. "I'm so sorry," she said apologetically, as her face flushed. "We will start with you, Mr. Gluckstein," continued the inspector, as he turned to the studio official, standing beside him. "Were you in the studio when this happened?" "I was down town. As I understand it, there wasn't anybody here " "That will do," interrupted the detective. "I didn't ask you what you understood. There must have been at least two people here," he explained. Then, as he pointed to the man behind the screen : "He and the one who shot him ! You have an alibi : you were down town. That eliminates you." "No employee of the studio was here when the thing happened," spoke up Director Lloyd. He was a nice looking, clean cut young man and was dressed in khaki riding trousers, puttees and a loose-fitting white shirt. "I am not certain about that," remarked Inspector Henry, somewhat sternly. "What I mean to say is, none of us were here," the director explained. "Are you certain?" inquired the detective. "Absolutely certain," vowed the director. "Then none of you heard the shot fired?" "We had been working steadily, since early this morning," said Lloyd, "and about two thirty this afternoon we all knocked off, for a little rest, and, incidentally, to get something to eat." "Did you all go together?" "Not exactly. We all came stringing along, one after the other. I was the last one to leave the studio, and. when I reached the restaurant, which is located about three blocks down Victoria Park Road, the others had already arrived and were eating." "Every one of these people were there?" continued the inspector as he waved his hand in the direction of the group on the stairs. _