Kennedy jumped to his feet. There was a hard light in his eyes I had never seen before.
"Do I understand you, Phelps?" he snapped. "Are you accusing Manton of the cold-blooded murder of Stella Lamar to further various financial schemes?"
"Hardly!" Phelps blanched a bit, and I thought that a shudder swept over him. "I don't mean anything like that at all. What I mean is that Manton, in encouraging various sorts of dissension to wreck the company, inadvertently fanned the flames of passion of those about her, and it resulted in her death."
"Who killed her?"
"I don't know!" Grudgingly I admitted that this seemed open and frank.
"At Tarrytown," Kennedy went on, "I asked you if Stella Lamar was making any trouble, had threatened to quit Manton Pictures, and you said no. Is that still your answer?"
"For several months she had been up-stage. That was not because she wanted to make trouble, but because she had fallen in love. Manton found he couldn't handle her as he had previously."
"Do you suspect Manton of killing her himself?"
"I don't suspect anyone. That is an honest answer, Mr. Kennedy."
"What do you know about Fortune Features?"