Kennedy stooped down quickly, but it was locked and had not been tampered with.
In the corridor by the dressing rooms we met Kauf, and Kennedy stopped him.
"How long would it take to make a print from the scene where Shirley took the poison?"
"We could have it ready in half an hour, in a case of grim necessity."
"Half an hour?" I exclaimed at that, in disbelief. "You couldn't begin to dry the negative in that time, Kauf."
He glanced at me tolerantly. "We make what is called a wet print; that is, we print from the negative while it is still wet and so we only have the positive to dry. Then we put it on drums in a forced draught of hot air. The result is not very good, but it's a fine thing sometimes to get a picture of a parade or some accident in a theater right after it happens."
"Will you do it for me, Kauf?" Kennedy broke in, impatiently. "This is a case of grim necessity," he added.
Kauf hurried off and we made our way across the yard to the stairs leading down into the basement and to the projection room specified by Kennedy. Here Manton was waiting, uneasy, flushed, his face gathered in a frown and his hands clenching and unclenching in his nervousness.
"Do you—do you know who it is?" he demanded.
"Not yet," Kennedy replied. "First I must marshal all my evidence."