Page:The Black Camel (IA blackcamel0000earl).djvu/138

SHRUGGING his broad shoulders, Charlie turned back to Martino. The director’s face was even more crimson than usual, and he was breathing hard.

“Do you wish to make statement,” Chan asked, “as to moment when you think this object was placed on your person?”

Martino considered. “When we were leaving the dining-room a while back,” he said, “we were all crowded together round the door. I thought then that I felt a little tug at my pocket.”

“Just who was near you at that instant?”

“It’s hard to say. Everybody was there together. The matter is serious, and I don’t like to guess.” He paused, and glanced at the fortune-teller. “I do recall that Mr. Tarneverro wasn’t far away.”

“Is that an accusation?” asked Tarneverro coldly.

“Not precisely. I can’t be sure———”

“You'd like nothing better than to be sure,” the fortune-teller suggested.

Martino laughed. “You’ve hit it there, my friend. I haven’t much love for you, and you know it. If I’d had my way, you’d have been run out of Hollywood long ago.”

“Failing that, you’ve gone about secretly warning the women against me.”