Shayne shook hands with both of them. He explained, “You gentlemen can help me clear the members of your cast of suspicion in Nora Carson’s murder. She was killed while the play was going on. Whoever killed her must have been absent from the opera house for an absolute minimum of fifteen minutes — and that’s allowing no time for the actual murder.”
Both men listened with intent interest.
He continued, “I’m particularly interested in the movements of two men: Frank Carson and Joe Meade. Don’t answer hastily. Take time to think it over. Your answers may be very important. Could either of those men have been absent fifteen minutes during the performance without being missed?”
He took out a cigarette while he waited. His hand shook, striking a match. A hell of a lot depended on the answer to his question. An entire hypothesis he had been mentally building since early dawn.
The producer was first with a definite and positive shake of his head. “I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you, Mr. Shayne. Carson couldn’t possibly have been absent from the theater five minutes without being missed.”
“How about intermissions?”
“Impossible. He’s on-stage at both curtains, and has a complete change of costume between acts. No, I can get a cue-sheet if you wish and go over it with you minute by minute, but I assure you that Carson could not have been away as much as ten consecutive minutes from the first curtain until the last.”
“All right. How about Joe Meade?”
“Mac will have to answer for him.” Johnston turned to McLeod.
The stout, overalled man shook his head. “Naturally, I can’t be quite as positive as Johnston. We don’t have a cue-sheet for the prop men. But I’m afraid I’ll have to alibi Meade also. There’s a change of scenery at the end of each act, and a shift just about halfway between each curtain. It’s very, very doubtful that Meade could have been away as much as fifteen minutes without being noticed.”