“Not much,” said Culligore disgustedly, with a furtive glance at the telephone. “I searched every square inch of the place without finding what I was after.”
“Yes?” Starr seemed politely curious. “I infer, then, that you had a definite object in view, that you were not just searching at random.”
“Oh, no.” Culligore looked about him as if not quite at ease. “I suppose we’re alone?”
“Not another soul in the building. You can speak as freely as you like.”
“Then I’ll tell you exactly what I think. The way Mr. Shei’s men have been sneaking in and out of this place is mighty suggestive. Just why they should be turning your place into a rendezvous is something I don’t understand, but that’s exactly what they seem to be doing. They were right on the job the night you opened your new play. They gave Virginia Darrow a shot of poison just at the psychological moment, before she could spill what she knew. Then they sneaked the body away right under our eyes, and we have not yet discovered how they managed it. Only the other day, somebody took a shot at either you or The Gray Phantom. All this looks mighty queer.”
“It does,” assented Starr. He took out a jewel-studded case and lighted a cigarette. His pale, uneasy eyes did not leave the detective’s face for a moment. “What is your theory?”
Culligore looked musingly into space. “Mr. Shei is very clever, but he is of flesh and blood, like the rest of us. There must be a simple and natural explanation for all these strange doings. I’ll bet my hat that he has found a secret entrance to your place.”
“Impossible,” said Starr promptly. “This theater was built according to my own directions and my own architects supervised every detail of the construction.”
“That may be, but I still stick to the idea of a secret entrance. Don’t you see, Mr. Starr, even if you didn’t have such an entrance made when you constructed your theater, Mr. Shei’s men may have drilled a hole through the wall or the floor somewhere? Nothing else explains how they have been slipping in and out of the place.”
“But why?” demanded Starr, and his fingers trembled as he took the cigarette from his lips. “Why should they do such a thing?”