Picture-Play Magazine (Sep 1928 - Feb 1929)

64 A Girl Comes to Hollywood CHAPTER XXII. "there's nothing to fear but fear." "But we are engaged to. be married !" Madeleine Standish protested when those in authority saw no reason why Mary Smith, late of Montparnasse, should be allowed to visit the prisoner. Prisoner ! Horrible word ! Madeleine flung herself against it as against a wall that has been built up in a night by some devilish magic and must be destroyed. It was not true, in the more obvious sense, that they were engaged to be married. But it was true in the girl's heart, and she believed it to be true in the man's heart, also. They loved each other, had loved each other almost at first greeting of eyes! From that first evening when Malcolm had come to her rescue, and had given her the name of "Mary Smith," Madeleine had known that he was her man. If life parted them, she would never love any other, she had told herself. And then it had seemed as if life meant to part them. She had her mission to accomplish, and, more easily than not, its accomplishment might stain her name with scandal. She had determined not to let Malcolm Allen's career be injured because of his chivalry to her. But now everything was changed. Black shadows had fallen upon him, while no one, if not in her secret, could see as yet that the same darkness lay across her path. Evidence was strong against Malcolm, but it was circumstantial evidence, and Madeleine felt that she alone of all people in the world could bring out its falseness. " "Not the greatest detective in the world, coming into this case without knowing my story, could do for Malcolm what I can do — what I will do !" the girl thought. And she knew that it was not a vain or boastful thought. To Malcolm, her rush to his rescue at the expense of a lie about their relations, brought such a shock of joyful amazement that for a little while he forgot his trouble. They were not permitted to be alone together for their interview, but Madeleine had reached a stage of recklessness that turned witnesses into blocks of wood. Malcolm, of course, wouldn't give her away by disputing their alleged "engagement." She was sure of that in being admitted to see him, and the rest didn't matter. "Dearest one," she said, "I'm going to help fight for you. And I know how I'm going to do it." "But, you adorable child, you mustn't mix yourself up in this sordid business," Malcolm said, worshiping her. "Just to know you do care for me, and not for any one else, is enough to keep up my courage. I'm not guilty! What with this smart lawyer you've found for me and — well, what they call the 'power of innocence,' ought to get me out of this mess, without your going down into the depths for me." "Wherever you are, I'm with you," Madeleine said. "I'll be doing my own work as well as yours, if I can help you out of this snare. It is a snare, and I'm going to prove it." The lawyer Madeleine had engaged for Malcolm on the night of his arrest was a young man named John Barrett. He had gained a certain amount of fame through winning a case for a client accused of theft, and as the client was an actress, a pretty Cinderella in the ranks of extras, the affair had made more of a sensation than it would have done had Kitty Carson remained a stenographer. "In a way, it's just such another case as Miss Carson's," Madeleine explained to the busy man who had too much to do already. "Your kind of case — all cir cumstantial evidence." And then, later, when Barrett consented to act, Madeleine went to his office for a confidential talk. She hadn't meant to tell any one her own secret business in Hollywood, and even now she would have preferred to keep silent, but she saw that by doing so she would hinder rather than help Barrett. Barrett listened in silence to the story of Madeleine Standish's coming to Hollywood, and her transformation into Mary Smith of Montparnasse. "Yes, I see just why you came such a long way to Hollywood, and had to hide your identity when you got here," Barrett said thoughtfully when she paused. "You were a brave girl to go in for such an adventure ! No money except what you'd scraped together for the journey! Yet you didn't hesitate!" "I had very little to lose and a great deal to gain," Madeleine answered. "At worst it was a good gamble. I repeated to myself — I had to do it again and again at first — 'There's nothing to fear but fear.' Well, I got just where I wanted to be, thanks to Mr. Allen. And if I haven't gone ahead as fast as I hoped, I know — I absolutely knozv — I'm on the right track. These people are even cleverer than I thought they were, which is saying a good deal ; but I'll prove cleverer than they in the end, with you to help me, and Malcolm to work for. I'm a thousand times keener than I was for myself alone, now his affairs and mine are tangled together in this strange way." "You see the connection," said John Barrett, "or think you do. But there is, on the face of it, I must point out, no proof whatever against Lopez and company. Lepez had nothing to gain by Lady Gates' death. On the contrary, he could gain only by her continuing to live till they'd gone through a marriage ceremony, or at least till she'd made a new will. Allen is the one person who had a compelling motive for removing Lady Gates before she could marry, or disinherit him. Every detail of the murder appears — on the surface, mind you — to have been planned by Allen. There is the anonymous letter " "We know Malcolm didn't write it !" "You think you know. I know I think so ! But Allen had the motive. And he had the stationery. As for the handwriting, it was disguised, and several experts may all pronounce differently upon it when the case comes to trial." "I don't want it to come to trial !" exclaimed Madeleine. "I want to get a confession from the killer before the time arrives for that !" "You'll have to be a quick worker," said Barrett, with rather a grim smile on his keen, lantern-jawed face, so eminently the face of a born lawyer. "I mean to be," Madeleine answered, with perhaps a little more confidence than was in her heart. "I shall try to find a bit of that writing paper in a place where somebody, not Malcolm Allen, had it to experiment with !" "If you mean in Lady Gates' suite at her hotel," Barrett warned, "you must realize that her rooms have been thoroughly gone over." "I don't mean there. Why should I ?" the girl asked. "Well," Barrett argued, "the murderer might have pilfered a little from her, if she'd got hold of some while her nephew was living in the bungalow." "That's just what I think happened," agreed Madeleine, quickly. "But I wouldn't look for it in her rooms." "Don't you mean to tell me where you would look for it ?" the lawyer wanted to know. "Wherever she is — or has been," Madeleine replied. Barrett had listened carefully to the girl's story, and understood without explanation who was indicated.