“Troubled. Final directions at address I
gave you. Courage. Benefactor.”
“Some ‘benefactor,’ ” said Mike Brixan. “What was he like—the man who called? Was he worried?”
“Yes, sir: he looked upset—all distracted like. He seemed like a chap who’d lost his head.”
“That seems a fair description,” said Mike.
CHAPTER IV
THE LEADING LADY
In the studio of the Knebworth Picture Corporation the company had been waiting in its street clothes for the greater part of an hour.
Jack Knebworth sat in his conventional attitude, huddled up in his canvas chair, fingering his long chin and glaring from time to time at the clock above the studio manager’s office.
It was eleven when Stella Mendoza flounced in, bringing with her the fragrance of wood violets and a small, unhappy Peke.
“Do you work to summer-time?” asked Knebworth slowly. “Or maybe you thought the call was for afternoon? You’ve kept fifty people waiting, Stella.”