“Perhaps you know also that things haven’t been going just right with Manton Pictures?”

Kennedy straightened.  “When I asked you at Tarrytown, just two mornings ago, whether there was any trouble between Manton and yourself, you answered that there was not.”

Phelps flushed.  “I didn’t want to air my financial difficulties with Manton.  My—­my answer was truthful, the way you meant your question.  Manton and I have had no words, no quarrel, no disagreement of a personal nature.”

“What is the trouble with Manton Pictures?”

“They are wasting money—­throwing it right and left.  That pay roll of theirs is preposterous.  The waste itself is beyond belief—­sometimes four and five cameras on a scene, retakes upon the slightest provocation, even sets rebuilt because some minor detail fails to suit the artistic eye of the director.  Werner, supposed to watch all the companies, doesn’t half know his business.  In the making of a five-reel film they will overtake sometimes as much as eighty or a hundred thousand feet of negative in each of two cameras, when twenty thousand is enough overtake for anyone.  That alone is five to ten thousand dollars for negative stock, almost fifteen with the sample print and developing.  And the cost of stock, Mr. Kennedy, is the smallest item.  All the extra length is long additional weeks of pay roll and overhead expense.  I put an auditor and a film expert on the accounts of Stella Lamar’s last picture.  By their figures just sixty-three thousand dollars was absolutely thrown away.”

Kennedy rose, folding the newspaper carefully while he collected his thoughts.  “My dear Mr. Phelps,” he stated, finally, “that is simply inefficiency.  I doubt if it is anything criminal; certainly there is no connection with the death of Stella Lamar, my only interest in Manton Pictures.”

Phelps was very grave.  “There is every connection with the death of Stella Lamar!”

“What do you mean?”

“Mr. Kennedy, what I’m going to say to you I cannot substantiate in any court of law.  Furthermore I’m laying myself open to action for libel, so I must not be quoted.  But I want you to understand that Stella was inescapably wound up with all of Manton’s financial schemes.  His money maneuvers determined her social life, her friends—­everything.  She was then, as Enid Faye will be now, his come-on, his decoy.  Manton has no scruples of any sort whatsoever.  He is dishonest, tricky, a liar, and a cheat.  If I could prove it I would tell him so, but he’s too clever for me.  I do know, however, that he pulled the strings which controlled every move Stella Lamar ever made.  When she went to dinner with me it was because Manton wished her to do so.  She was his right hand, his ears, almost his mouth.  I have no doubt but that her death is the direct result of some business deal of his—­ something directly to do with his financial necessities.”

Kennedy did not glance up.  “Those are very serious assertions.”