Page:The Black Camel (IA blackcamel0000earl).djvu/79

at the theater,” he announced. “My news just about bowled the poor fellow over. He said he would be through after the second act, and would come right along.”

“Thank you most warmly,” Chan nodded. “You have most helpful nature.” He turned to Martino. “You are what they call a director, I think.”

“Yes, they call me that,” replied Martino grimly. “Among other things.”

“You have been engaged in this work a long time?”

“Not very long. I was formerly an actor, on the English stage. Got interested in the pictures, you know, and eventually went to Hollywood.”

“Could you mention date of arrival?”

“Surely. I landed there two years ago last March.”

“At that date, you saw the place for the first time?”

“Yes—of course.”

Charlie nodded. “With regard to this evening, I can also omit to ask from you your exact location at two minutes past eight.”

“Naturally. I was with you and these other chaps at the hotel. As I believe I told you, when I left you just after eight o’clock, I went with Mr. Jaynes on to the terrace. I tried to calm him a bit, but he broke away and wandered down the beach. I sat there on the beach walk for some twenty-five minutes, admiring the set. When I saw you again, I had just been upstairs to get my hat, intending to come down here.”

Charlie looked over at Alan Jaynes, nervously smoking his small cigar in a distant corner. “Mr. Jaynes,” he said.

The Britisher rose and approached him, consulting his watch as he did so. “Yes?” he remarked.