“How about Shirley?” I put in.

“At first glance Shirley and Gordon suggest themselves because both murders were highly spectacular, and the actor, above everything else, enjoys a big scene.  After Werner’s death, for instance, Shirley literally strutted up and down in that set.  He was so full of the situation, so carried away by the drama of the occasion, that he failed utterly to realize how suspicious his conduct would seem to an observer.  Unfortunately for our hypotheses, the use of venom and toxin is too cold-bloodedly efficient.  The theatrical temperament must have emotion.  An actor cruel and vicious enough to strike down two people as Miss Lamar and Werner were stricken, of sufficient dramatic make-up to conceive of the manner of their deaths, would want to see them writhe and suffer.  He would select poisons equally rare and effective, but those more slow and painful in their operation.  No, Walter, Shirley is not indicated by this method of reasoning.  The arrangement of the scenes for the murders was simply another detail of efficiency, not due to a wish to be spectacular.  The crowd about in each case has added greatly to the difficulty of investigation.”

“Do you include Gordon in that?” Mackay asked.

“Yes, and in addition”—­Kennedy smiled slightly—­“I believe that Gordon is rather stupid.  For one thing, he has had several fights in public, at the Goats Club and at the Midnight Fads and I suppose elsewhere.  That is not the clever rogue.  Furthermore, he had been speculating, not just now and then, but desperately, doggedly.  Clever men speculate, but scientific men never.  Our unknown criminal is both clever and intelligent.”

“That brings you to the girls, then,” Mackay remarked.

Kennedy’s face clouded and I could see that he was troubled.  “To be honest in this one particular method of deduction,” he stated, “I must admit that both Miss Faye and Miss Loring are worthy of suspicion.  The fact of their rise in the film world, the evidences of their popularity, is proof that they are clever.  Miss Loring, in my few brief moments of contact with her on two occasions, showed a grasp of things and a quickness which indicate to me that she possesses a rare order of intelligence for a woman.  As for Miss Faye”—­again he hesitated—­“one little act of hers demonstrated intelligence.  When Shirley was standing guard in the set after Werner’s death, and making a fool of himself, Millard evidently wanted to get over and speak to him, perhaps to tell him not to let me find him searching the scene as though his life depended upon it, perhaps something else.  But Miss Faye stopped him.  Unquestionably she saw that anyone taking an interest in the remains of the banquet just then would become an object of suspicion.”

“Do you really suspect Marilyn or Enid?” I inquired.

“If this were half a generation ago I would say without hesitation that the crime was the handiwork of a man.  But now the women are in everything.  Young girls particularly—­” He shrugged his shoulders.