With every detonation the floor beneath our feet trembled and rocked.
Several flats of scenery stacked against a wall at our rear toppled forward and struck the floor with a resounding whack, not unlike some gigantic slap-stick. One entire side of the banquet set, luckily unoccupied, fell inward and I caught the sound as the dainty gold chairs and fragile tables snapped and were crushed as so much kindling wood.
Then--a fitting climax of destruction, withheld until this moment--there followed the terrifying snap of steel from above. An entire section of roof literally was popped from place, the result of false stresses in the beams created by the explosion. Upon the heads of the unlucky group in the center of the ballroom set came a perfect hailstorm of broken and shattered bits of heavy ground gla.s.s.
For an instant, an exceedingly brief instant, there was the illusion of silence. The next moment the factory siren rose to a shrill shriek, with a full head of steam behind it--the fire call!
Kennedy dashed over to the scene where those beneath the shower of gla.s.s lay, dazed and uncertain of the extent of their own injuries.
"Where are the first-aid kits?" he shouted. "Bring cotton and bandages, and--and telephone for a doctor, an ambulance!"
It seemed to me that Kennedy had never been so excited. Mackay and I, at his heels, and some of the others, unhurt, hurriedly helped the various victims to their feet.
Then we realized that by some miracle, some freak of fate, no one had been hurt seriously. Already a property boy was at Kennedy"s side with a huge box marked prominently with the red cross. Inside was everything necessary and Kennedy started to bind up the wounds with all the skill of a professional physician.
"Mackay," he whispered, "hurry and get me some envelopes, or some sheets of paper, anything--quick!" And to me, before I could grasp the reason for that puzzling request: "Don"t let anyone slip away, Walter.
No matter what happens, I must bind up these wounds myself."
A few moments later I understood what Kennedy was up to. As he finished with each victim he took some bit of cotton or gauze with which he had wiped their cuts, enough blood to serve him in chemical a.n.a.lysis, and handed it to Mackay. The district attorney, very un.o.btrusively, slipped each sample into a separate envelope, sealing it, and marking it with a hieroglyph which he would be able to identify later. In this fashion Kennedy secured blood smears of Manton and Phelps, Millard and Kauf and Enid, Gordon, the two camera men, and a scene shifter. I smiled to myself.
Meanwhile a bitter, acrid odor penetrated through the windows and to every part of the structure, the odor of burning film, an odor one never forgets to fear. All those uninjured in the explosions had rushed out to see the fire, or else to escape from any further danger, the moment they recovered their wits. Manton, only cut at the wrist, and impatient as Kennedy cleaned, dusted, and bound the wound, was the first to receive attention.
"The vaults!" he called, to the men who seemed disposed to linger about. "For G.o.d"s sake get busy!" The next instant he was gone himself.
Enid was cut on the head. Tears streamed from her eyes as she clung to Kennedy"s coat, trembling. "Will it make a scar?" she sobbed. "Will I be unable to act before the camera any more?"
He rea.s.sured her. In the case of Millard, who had several bad scalp wounds, he advised a trip to a doctor, but the scenario writer laughed.
Phelps was yellow. It seemed to me that he whimpered a bit. Gordon was disposed to swear cheerfully, although a point of gla.s.s had penetrated deep in his shoulder and another piece had gashed him across the forehead.
Finally Kennedy was through. He packed the little envelopes in the bag, still in the possession of Mackay, and added the two rolls of film from his pocket. Then, for the first time, he locked it.
As he straightened, his eyes narrowed.
"Now for Shirley," he muttered.
"And Marilyn," I added.
XXVIII
THE PHOSPHORUS BOMB
We rushed out into the courtyard, Kennedy in the lead, Mackay trailing with the bag. Here there were dense clouds of fine white suffocating smoke mixed with steam, and signs of the utmost confusion on every hand. Because Manton, fortunately, had trained the studio staff through frequent fire drills, there was a semblance of order among the men actually engaged in fighting the spread of the blaze. Any attempt to extinguish the conflagration in the vault itself was hopeless, however, and so the workers contented themselves with pouring water into the bas.e.m.e.nt on either side, to keep the building and perhaps the other vaults cool, and with maintaining a constant stream of chemical mixture from a special apparatus down the ventilating system into and upon the smoldering film.
The studio fire equipment seemed to be very complete. There was water at high pressure from a tank elevated some twenty to thirty feet above the uppermost roof of the quadrangle. In addition Manton had invested in the chemical engine and also in sand carts, because water aids rather than r.e.t.a.r.ds the combustion of film itself. I noticed that the promoter was in direct charge of the fire-fighters, and that he moved about with a zeal and a recklessness which ended for once and all in my mind the suspicion that Phelps might be correct and that Manton sought to wreck this company for the sake of Fortune Features.
In an amazingly quick s.p.a.ce of time the thing was over. When the city apparatus arrived, after a run of nearly three miles, there was nothing for them to do. The chief sought out Manton, to accompany him upon an inspection of the damage and to make sure that the fire was out. The promoter first beckoned to Kennedy.
"This is unquestionably of incendiary origin," he explained to the chief. "I want Mr. Kennedy to see everything before it is disturbed, so that no clue may be lost or destroyed."
The fire officer brightened. "Craig Kennedy?" he inquired. "Gee! there must be some connection between the blaze and the murder of Stella Lamar and her director. I"ve been reading about it every day in the papers."
"Mr. Jameson of the Star," Kennedy said, presenting me.
We found we could not enter the bas.e.m.e.nt immediately adjoining the vaults--that is, directly from the courtyard--because it seemed advisable to keep a stream of water playing down the steps, and a resulting cloud of steam blocked us. Manton explained that we could get through from the next cellar if it was not too hot, and so we hurried toward another entrance.
Mackay, who had remained behind to protect the bag from the heat, joined us there.
"I"ve put the bag in charge of that chauffeur, McGroarty, and armed him with my automatic," he explained. He paused to wipe his eyes. The fumes from the film had distressed all of us. "Shirley and Marilyn Loring are both missing still," he added. "I"ve been asking everyone about them.
No one has seen them."
The fire chief looked up. "Everyone is out? You are sure everybody is safe?"
"I had Wagnalls at my elbow with a hose," Manton replied. "I saw the boy around, also. No one else had any business down there and the vaults were closed and the cellar shut off."
The door leading from the adjoining bas.e.m.e.nt was hot yet, but not so that we were unable to handle it. However, the catch had stuck and it took considerable effort to force it in. As we did so a cloud of acrid vapor and steam drove us back.
Then Kennedy seemed to detect something in the slowly clearing atmosphere. He rushed ahead without hesitation. The fire chief followed. In another instant I was able to see also.
The form of a woman, dimly outlined in the vapor, struggled to lift the p.r.o.ne figure of a man. After one effort she collapsed upon him. I dashed forward, as did Mackay and Manton. Two of them carried the girl out to the air; the other three of us brought her unconscious companion. It was Marilyn and Shirley.
The little actress was revived easily, but Shirley required the combined efforts of Kennedy and the chief, and it was evident that he had escaped death from suffocation only by the narrowest of margins.
How either had survived seemed a mystery. Their clothes were wet, their faces and hands blackened, eyebrows and lashes scorched by the heat.
But for the water poured into the bas.e.m.e.nt neither would have been alive. They had been prisoners during the entire conflagration, the burning vault holding them at one end of the bas.e.m.e.nt, the door in the part.i.tion resisting their efforts to open it.
"Thank heaven he"s alive!" were Marilyn"s first words.
"How did you get in the cellar?" Kennedy spoke sternly.
"I thought he might be there." Now that the reaction was setting in, the girl was faint and she controlled herself with difficulty. "I was looking for him and as soon as I heard the first explosion I ran down the steps into the film-vault entrance--I was right near there--and I found him, stunned. I started to lift him, but there were other explosions almost before I got to his side. The flames shot out through the cracks in the vault door and I--I couldn"t drag him to the steps; I had to pull him back where you found us." She began to tremble. "It--it was terrible!"
"Was there anyone else about, anyone but Mr. Shirley?"
"No. I--I remember I wondered about the vault man."
"What was Mr. Shirley down there for, Miss Loring?"
"He"--she hesitated--"he said he had seen some one hanging around and--and he didn"t want to report anything until he was sure. He--he thought he could accomplish more by himself, although I told him he was--was wrong."
"Whom did he see hanging around?"
"He wouldn"t tell me."
Shirley was too weak to question and the girl too unstrung to stand further interrogation. In response to Manton"s call several people came up and willingly helped the two toward the comfort of their dressing rooms.
At the fire chief"s suggestion the stream of water into the bas.e.m.e.nt was cut off. Manton led the way, choking, eyes watering, to the front of the vaults. Feverishly he felt the steel doors and the walls. There was no mistaking the conclusion. The negative vault was hot, the others cold.