“Who was in your office?” It was Curt who fired that question.
Jim looked at them steadily.
“It was Adolphi.”
He waited for the significance of his words to sink in and smiled a little grimly at the bewilderment which was reflected on their faces.
“Surprised? Say, maybe you think I wasn’t. And now I don’t know what to think.”
“Tell us everything that happened after you reached the studio floor,” urged Janet.
Jim took out his handkerchief and wiped his forehead, where glistening beads of perspiration had gathered.
“When I swung down the corridor I saw the boy had left my door so I ran the rest of the way,” he said. “The carpet’s thick and I made little if any noise. The door of my office was open and Adolphi was thumbing through the pile of script I had been working on. When I came up behind him he jumped almost across the desk.”
“What did he say?” asked Helen.
“Said he’d found the door of my office open and since he knew I was working on the script thought he would look it over while I was out at lunch.”