Mr. Baker frowned.
"It's a curious thing," he replied. "Most curious. The picture in question was, I find, taken from the files by Mr. Moore, our president, and placed on his desk. He always admired it, and kept it there, along with a number of others, to show to persons calling upon him. Now, it seems, it has disappeared. There is not the slightest trace of it." "But," Duvall objected, "who could have taken it?"
"A dozen people. Half a hundred, I guess. You see, Mr. Moore's office is a big room, just beyond here." He rose, and led the detective through a short corridor. "Here it is," he went on, throwing open the door. "This is where Mr. Moore receives his callers. It is his reception room, and no private papers are kept here. Those are all in the smaller office adjoining. This room is open at any time. After Mr. Moore leaves in the evening, and he often leaves early, anyone might come in here. And when the offices are closed, at night, I suppose any employee of the company might look in, if he cared to do so, without anyone objecting. You see, this is a sort of public room. The inner office is always kept locked, but there has never seemed to be any good reason for locking this one."
"Still, although you cannot tell who has taken the picture, it seems clear enough that it must have been removed by some one employed in the studio."
"Even that is by no means certain. So many people come here every day. All sorts of visitors, writers, actors, and the like. After business hours I don't doubt any number of persons enter this room, to look at the pictures of our great successes that hang on its walls. And then there are the caretakers, the scrub-women, and their friends. I find that they, many of them, bring in outsiders, after working hours, to look at the studio, and the famous offices. Of course it should not be, and it will not be, in the future, but up to now we have rather welcomed people from outside. It seemed good advertising."
Duvall followed his companion back to his office.
"Then this clue, like all the others in this singular case," he remarked, "seems to end in a blind alley."
"It seems so," assented Mr. Baker, gloomily. "What was your plan about the new film we're going to show to-night?"
Duvall was about to speak, but before he could do so, they heard a slight commotion in the hall outside. Then someone rapped violently on the door.
Both he and Baker sprang to their feet.