CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Bonnie Dundee's heart leaped, but he forced himself to go softly. "Isuppose," he said casually, "a fashionable school like this has plentyof carefully hushed-up scandals----"
"I'll say it has!" Miss Earle retorted inelegantly, and with ghoulishsatisfaction. "_Money_ can do anything! It makes my blood simply boilwhen I think of how those Forsyte girls in Hamilton--so smug andsnobbish in their hick town 'society'--must be running poor Nita down,now that she's dead and can't defend herself!... If the truth were onlyknown about some of _them_----"
Dundee could almost have embraced the homely, life-soured spinster--shewas making his task so easy for him.
"I've met them all, of course, since Mrs. Selim was murdered," he saiddeprecatingly, "and I must say they seem to be remarkably fine women andgirls----"
"Oh _are_ they?" Miss Earle snorted. "Flora Hackett--Mrs. Tracey Milesshe is now--didn't happen to tell you the nice little fuss _she_ kickedup when she was here, did she? Oh, no! I guess not!"
"She looks," Dundee agreed, "like a girl who would have made thingslively."
"I'll say so! Miss Pendleton nearly had nervous prostration!" Miss Earleplunged on, then fear blanched her face for a moment. "You know you'vepromised you'll never tell Miss Pendleton or Miss Macon that you talkedto me!"
"You can depend on it that I will protect you," Dundee assured her."When did Flora Hackett kick up her little fuss?"
"Let's see.... Flora graduated in June, 1920," Miss Earle obligedwillingly. "So it must have been in 1919--yes, because she had one moreyear here. Of course they let her come back!... _Money!_... She took thelead in our annual Easter play in 1919, and just because Serena Hartcomplimented her and told her she was almost as good as aprofessional--"
"_Serena Hart!_" Dundee wonderingly repeated the name of one ofAmerica's most popular and beloved stage stars.
"Yes--Serena Hart," Miss Earle repeated proudly. "She was a Forsytegirl, too, and of course she _did_ go into the chorus herself, after shegraduated in--let's see--1917, because it was the second year after I'dcome to work here--and Miss Pendleton nearly died, because she wasafraid Forsyte's precious prestige would be lowered, but when Serenabecame a star everything was grand, of course, and Forsyte was proud toclaim her.... Anyway, Serena comes to the Easter play every year shecan, if she isn't in a Broadway play herself, of course, and so she sawFlora acting in the Easter play in 1919, and told her she was awfullygood. She was, too, but not half the actress that little Penny Crainwas, when she had the lead in the play four or five years ago."
Dundee's heart begged him to ask for more details of Penny's triumph,but his job demanded that he keep the now too-voluble Miss Earle to thebusiness in hand.
"And Flora Hackett----?" he prompted.
"Well, the next day after the play the Easter vacation began, you know,and Flora _forged_ a letter from her father, giving her permission tospend the ten-days' Easter holiday with one of the girls who lived inAtlanta," Miss Earle continued, with great relish. "Well, sir, right inthe middle of the holidays, here came her father and mother--they wereboth alive then--and asked for Flora! They wired the girl in Atlanta,and Flora wasn't there, and the Hacketts were nearly crazy. But as luckwould have it, Mr. Hackett ran into a friend of theirs on Broadway, andthis friend began to tease Mr. Hackett about his daughter's being achorus girl!"
"A chorus girl!" Dundee echoed, taking care not to show hisdisappointment.
"Of course they nabbed her right out of the show, but that wasn't theworst of it!" Miss Earle went on dramatically and mysteriously. "Theytried to hush it up, of course, but the word went through the schoollike wildfire that Flora wasn't only in the chorus, but that she was_living with an actor_ she'd been writing fan letters to long before theEaster play went on!"
"Did you hear his name?" Dundee asked.
"No," Miss Earle acknowledged regretfully. "But I'll bet anything it wasthe truth!... Why, Flora Hackett was so man-crazy she flirtedscandalously with every male teacher in the school. The golf 'pro' wehad then got so scared of her he quit his job!"
"I suppose," Dundee prompted craftily, "she wasn't any worse than someof the other Hamilton girls."
"We-ell," Miss Earle admitted reluctantly, "nothing ever _came out_ onany of the others, but it looked mighty funny to me when Janet Raymond'smother took her out of school right in the middle of a term and hauledher off to Europe _for a whole year_!... I guess,"--she suggested, withraised eyebrows, "you know what it _usually_ means when a girl has tospend a whole year abroad, and her mother says she's taking her away forher health--and Janet looking as healthy as any other girl in theschool, except that she was crying half the time, and smuggling specialdelivery letters in and out by one of the maids--"
"Did you tell Nita these stories and point out the pictures of thegirls?" Dundee had to risk asking.
Miss Earle froze instantly. "Naturally she was interested in the school,and once when she said it always made her mad the way chorus girls wererun down, I told her that in my opinion society girls were worse thanactresses, and--well, of course I gave her some examples, a lot of themworse than anything I've told you about Flora Hackett and JanetRaymond.... I hope," she added viciously, "that Nita dropped a hint ortwo if Flora or Janet had the nerve to high-hat her when she was inHamilton!"
"Perhaps she did," Dundee agreed softly. "By the way, how did Nitahappen to get the job here of directing the Easter plays?"
"That's what the reporters wanted to know," Miss Earle smiled. "But MissPendleton wouldn't tell them, for fear Serena wouldn't like it, andmaybe be drawn into the scandal, when everybody knows she's as straightas a string----"
"Did Serena Hart get her the job?" Dundee was amazed.
"Yes.... Wait, I'll show you the letter of recommendation she wrote forNita to Miss Pendleton," Miss Earle offered eagerly. "Remember, now,you're not to tell on me!"
She went to a tall walnut filing cabinet, and quickly returned with anote, which she thrust into Dundee's willing hands. He read:
_"Dear Miss Pendleton: The bearer, Juanita Leigh, is rather badly in need of a job, and I have suggested that she apply to you for a chance to direct the Easter play. I have known Miss Leigh personally for ten years, and have the highest regard, both for her character and for her ability. Since you usually stage musical comedies, I think Miss Leigh, who has been a specialty dancer as well as an actress in musical comedy for about twelve years, would be admirably suited for the work. Knowing my love for Forsyte as you do, I do not have to assure you that I would suggest nothing which would be detrimental to the school's best interests.... Fondly yours, Serena Hart."_
"She was wrong there, but I know it wasn't Nita's fault," Miss Earle,who had been looking over his shoulder, commented upon the last sentenceof the letter.
"Is Miss Hart appearing in a play now?" Dundee asked.
"No, but she's rehearsing in one--'Temptation'--which will open at theWarburton Theater next Monday night," the secretary answered. "Atcommencement Tuesday night, Serena told Miss Pendleton how awfully sorryshe was about Nita, and gave me tickets for the opening.... You go tosee her, but don't tell her _I_ told you anything.... I know she'srehearsing at the theater this afternoon, because she said she would beall week, and couldn't go to the boat to see Miss Pendleton and MissMacon off for Europe."
"I will!" Dundee accepted the suggestion gratefully, as if it had notoccurred to him. "But first I want you to come out to lunch with me. I'msure you know of some nice tearoom or roadhouse in the neighborhood."
During the luncheon, which Miss Earle devoured avidly, without itsinterfering with her flow of reminiscences concerning the girls shehated, Dundee was able to learn nothing more to the detriment ofForsyte's Hamilton alumnae, but he did add considerably to his knowledgeand pity of female human nature.
It was nearly three o'clock when he presented his card, with a messagepencilled upon its back, to the aged doorkeeper who drowsed in the alleywhich led to
the stage entrance of the Warburton Theater, just offBroadway near Times Square, and fifteen minutes later he was beingreceived in the star's dressing-room by Serena Hart herself.
"You're working on poor Nita's murder?" she began without preamble, asshe seated herself at her dressing-table and indicated a decrepit chairfor the detective. "I was wondering how much longer I could keep out ofit.... Of course you've been pumping that poor, foolish virgin--GladysEarle.... Why girls who look like that are always called _Gladys_--God!I'm tired! We've been at it since ten this morning, but thank the Lordwe're through now for the day."
Dundee studied her with keen interest, and decided that, almost plainthough she was, she was even more magnetic than when seen from thefootlights.... Rather carelessly dressed, long brown hair rathertousled, her face very pale and haggard without the make-up which wouldgive it radiance on Monday night, Serena Hart was nevertheless one ofthe most attractive women Dundee had ever met--and one of the kindest,he felt suddenly sure....
"When did I first meet Nita Leigh?" she repeated his question. "Let methink--Oh, yes! The first year after I went on the stage--1917. We werein the chorus together in 'Teasing Tilly'--a rotten show, by the way.The other girls of the chorus were awfully snooty to me, because I wasthat anathema, a 'society girl', but Nita was a darling. She showed methe ropes, and we became quite intimate--around the theater only,however, since my parents kept an awfully strict eye on me. The show wasa great hit--ran on into 1918, till February or March, I believe."
"Then do you know, Miss Hart, whether Nita got married during thewinter?" Dundee asked.
"Why, yes, she did!" Serena Hart answered, her brow clearing after afrown of concentration. "I can't remember exactly when, but it wasbefore the show closed--certainly a few weeks before, because the poorchild was a deserted bride days before the closing notice was posted."
"Deserted!" Dundee exclaimed. "Did you meet her husband, Miss Hart?"
"No," Serena Hart replied. "As a matter of fact, she told meextraordinarily little about him, and did not discuss her marriage withthe other girls of the chorus at all. I got the impression that Mr.Selim--Mat, she called him--wanted it kept secret for a while, but Idon't know why.... This was early in 1918, as I've told you, though Ihave no way of fixing even the approximate date, and New York was fullof soldiers. I remember I jumped to the conclusion that Nita hadsuccumbed to a war romance, but I don't think she said anything toconfirm my suspicion."
"When did she tell you of her marriage--that is, when--in relation tothe date of the wedding itself?" Dundee asked.
"The very day she was married," Serena Hart answered. "She was late forthe matinee. Our dressing-tables were side by side, and as she slippedout of her dress----"
"This dress?" Dundee asked, and handed her the photograph of dead Nitain the royal blue velvet dress she had kept for twelve years.
"Yes," and Serena Hart shuddered. "And her hair was dressed like that,too, although she had been wearing it in long curls, and had to take itdown before she would go on for the opening number. She whispered to methat she had been married that day, that she was terribly happy, verymuch in love, and that her husband had asked her to dress her hair inthe French roll, a favorite hair-dress with him. Between numbers shewhispered to me again, telling me that her husband was 'so different','such a lamb'--totally unlike any man she had met on Broadway, poorchild.... For she was a child still--only twenty, but she had been inthe 'show business' since she was a motherless, fatherless littledrifter of sixteen.... No, she did not tell me how old he was, where hecame from, his business, or what he looked like, and I did not inquire.As the days passed--weeks, probably, she became more and more silent andreserved, though once or twice she protested she was still 'terriblyhappy.' Then came a day when she did not show up for the performance atall. The next night she told me--in just a few words, that her husbandhad left her, after a quarrel, and had not returned. It seems that shehad innocently told him how she had 'vamped' Benny Steinfeld, the bigrevue producer, you know, into giving her a 'spot' in his summer show,and that her 'Mat' had flown into a rage, accusing her of having beenuntrue to him. She never mentioned his desertion to me again, but----"
"Yes?" Dundee prompted.
"Well," Serena Hart went on, uncomfortably, "I'm afraid I rather forgotpoor Nita after 'Teasing Tilly' closed, for my next work was in stock inDes Moines. After a year of stock I got my chance in a legitimate showon Broadway, and one day I met her on the street. Not having much totalk with her about, I asked her if she and her husband were reconciled.She said no, that she had never seen him again. Then, in a burst ofconfidence, she told me that she had hired a private detective out ofher meager earnings to investigate him in his home town, or rather thecity he had told her he came from. The detective had reported that nosuch person as Mat or Matthew Selim had ever lived there, so far as hecould find out. I asked her if she was going to get a divorce and shesaid she was not--that being already married was a protection againstgetting married in haste again. After that, I rather lost sight of Nita,and practically forgot her, our paths being so very divergent."
"And you never saw her again?" Dundee asked, very much disappointed.
"Oh, yes, two or three times--at openings, or on the street, but wenever held any significant conversation," Serena Hart answered, reachingfor her plain, rather dowdy little hat. "Wait! I was about to forget! Ihad quite a shock in connection with Nita. One afternoon--let's see,that was when I opened in 'Hullabaloo,' in which I made my first realsuccess, you know--I bought _The New York Evening Star_, which devotesconsiderable space to theatrical doings, to see what sort of review theshow had got, and on the first page I saw a picture of Nita, beneath aheadline which said, 'Famous Model Commits Suicide'----"
"What!" Dundee exclaimed, astounded.
"Oh, it wasn't Nita Leigh," Serena Hart reassured him. "There was acorrection the next day. You see, an artists' model named AnitaLee--spelled L-e-e, instead of Le-i-g-h--had committed suicide, and, asthe _Star_ explained it the next day, the similarity of both the firstname and the last had caused the error in getting a photograph from the'morgue' to accompany the story. There was a picture of Nita Leigh, withNita's statement that 'the report of my death has been exaggerated,' anda picture of the real Anita Lee."
"When did the mistake occur?" Dundee asked, in great excitement.
"Let me think!" Serena Hart frowned. "'Hullabaloo' opened in--yes, aboutthe first of May, 1922.... Just a little more than eight years ago."
Dundee reached for his own hat, in a fever to be gone, but to hissurprise the actress stopped him, a faint color in her pale cheeks.
"Since you're from Hamilton, and are investigating the murder, you haveundoubtedly met little Penelope Crain?"
"I know her very well. It happens that she is private secretary to thedistrict attorney, under whom I work.... Why?"
"I saw her play the lead in the Easter show at Forsyte four or fiveyears ago," Miss Hart explained, her face turned from the detective asshe dusted it with powder, "and I was impressed with her talent. Infact, I advised her father, who had come from Hamilton to witness theperformance, as proud parents are likely to do, to let her go on thestage."
"So you met Roger Crain?" Dundee paused to ask.
"Oh, yes.... A charming man, with even more personality than hisdaughter," the actress answered carelessly, so carelessly that Dundeehad a sudden hunch.
"Have you seen Mr. Crain recently?... He deserted his family and fledHamilton, under rather unsavory circumstances."
"What do you mean?" Miss Hart asked sharply.
"Oh, there was nothing actually criminal, I suppose, but he is believedto have withheld some securities which would have helped satisfy hiscreditors, when bankruptcy was imminent," Dundee explained. "Have youseen him since then--January it was, I believe?"
"January?" Miss Hart appeared to need time for reflection. "Oh, yes! Hesent in his card on the 'first night' of my show that opened inJanuary.... It was a flop--lasted only five weeks.... We
chatted of theForsyte girls who are now in Hamilton, most of whom I went to schoolwith or have met at the Easter plays."
"Do you know where Mr. Crain is now?" Dundee asked. "I have a messagefor him from Penny--if you should happen to see him again----"
"Why _should_ I see him again?" Miss Hart shrugged. "And I haven't theleast idea where he is living or what he is doing now.... Of course, ifhe should come to see me backstage after 'Temptation' opens--What is themessage from Penny?"
"That her mother wants him to come home," Dundee answered. "And I amvery sure Penny wants him back, too.... The mother is one of thesweetest, gentlest, most tragic women I have ever met--and you have seenPenny for yourself.... The disgrace has been very hard on them. It wouldbe splendid if Roger Crain would come back and redeem himself."
Half an hour later Bonnie Dundee, in the file room of _The New YorkEvening Star_, was in possession of the bound volume of that newspaperfor the month of May, 1922. On the front page of the issue of May 3,under the caption which Serena Hart had quoted so accurately, was apicture of a young, laughing Nita Leigh, her curls bobbed short, a rosebetween her gleaming teeth. And in the issue of May 4 appeared twopictures side by side--exotic, straight-haired, slant-eyed Anita Lee,who had found life so insupportable that she had ended it, and the samephotograph of living, vital Nita Leigh.
When he returned the files he asked the girl in charge:
"Does this copyright line beneath this picture--" and he pointed to thephotograph of Nita which had appeared erroneously, "--mean that thepicture was syndicated?"
The girl bent her head to see. "'Copyright by Metropolitan PictureService'," she read aloud. "Yes, that's what it means. When _The EveningStar_ was owned by Mr. Magnus, he formed a separate company called theMetropolitan Picture Service, which supplied papers all over the countrywith a daily picture service, in mat form. But the picture syndicate wasdiscontinued about five years ago when the paper was sold to its presentowners."
"Are their files available?" Dundee asked.
"If they are, I don't know anything about it," the girl told him, andturned to another seeker after bound volumes of the paper.
"It doesn't matter," Dundee assured her, and asked for a sheet of blankpaper, on which he quickly composed the following telegram, addressed toPenny Crain:
"PLEASE SEARCH FILES ALL THREE HAMILTON PAPERS WEEK OF MAY FOURTH TO ELEVENTH YEAR OF NINETEEN TWENTY TWO FOR STORY AND PICTURES ON SUICIDE ANITA LEE ARTISTS MODEL STOP SAY NOTHING TO ANYONE NOT EVEN SANDERSON IF HE IS THERE STOP WIRE RESULT"
In his hotel, while impatiently awaiting an answer from Penny, Dundeepassed the time by scanning all the New York papers of Thursday andFriday, on the chance of meeting with significant revelations concerningthe private life of Dexter Sprague or Juanita Leigh Selim united bydeath--in the press, at least. There was much space devoted to thetheory involving the two New Yorkers with the murder of the racketeerand gambler, "Swallow-tail Sammy" Savelli, but only two pieces ofinformation held Dundee's interest.
The first was a reminder to the public that certain theatrical columnsof Sunday, February 9, had carried the rumor of Dexter Sprague'sengagement to Dolly Martin, popular "baby" star of Altamont Pictures,and that the same columns of Tuesday, February 11, had carried Sprague'sown denial of the engagement--Dolly having "nothing to say."
"So that is why Nita tried to commit suicide on February 9--and herattempted suicide, with its tragic consequences for Lydia Carr, isprobably the reason Sprague gave up his movie star," Dundee mused. "DidNita let him persuade her to go into the blackmail business, in order tohold his wandering, mercenary affections?... Lord! The men some womenlove!"
The second bit of information which the papers supplied him was winnowedby Dundee himself, from a news summary of Nita Leigh's last year of lifeas chorus girl, specialty dancer, "double" in pictures, and director ofthe Easter play at Forsyte-on-the-Hudson.
"If Nita got a divorce or even a legal separation from her husband afterher talk with Gladys Earle a year ago, she got it in New York and sosecretly that no New York paper has been able to dig it up," Dundeeconcluded. "_And yet she had promised to marry Ralph Hammond!_"
A bellboy with a telegram interrupted the startling new train of thoughtwhich that conclusion had started.