Part 37 (1/2)
With every detonation the floor beneath our feet trembled and rocked.
Several flats of scenery stacked against a wall at our rear toppled forward and struck the floor with a resounding whack, not unlike some gigantic slap-stick. One entire side of the banquet set, luckily unoccupied, fell inward and I caught the sound as the dainty gold chairs and fragile tables snapped and were crushed as so much kindling wood.
Then--a fitting climax of destruction, withheld until this moment--there followed the terrifying snap of steel from above. An entire section of roof literally was popped from place, the result of false stresses in the beams created by the explosion. Upon the heads of the unlucky group in the center of the ballroom set came a perfect hailstorm of broken and shattered bits of heavy ground gla.s.s.
For an instant, an exceedingly brief instant, there was the illusion of silence. The next moment the factory siren rose to a shrill shriek, with a full head of steam behind it--the fire call!
Kennedy dashed over to the scene where those beneath the shower of gla.s.s lay, dazed and uncertain of the extent of their own injuries.
”Where are the first-aid kits?” he shouted. ”Bring cotton and bandages, and--and telephone for a doctor, an ambulance!”
It seemed to me that Kennedy had never been so excited. Mackay and I, at his heels, and some of the others, unhurt, hurriedly helped the various victims to their feet.
Then we realized that by some miracle, some freak of fate, no one had been hurt seriously. Already a property boy was at Kennedy's side with a huge box marked prominently with the red cross. Inside was everything necessary and Kennedy started to bind up the wounds with all the skill of a professional physician.
”Mackay,” he whispered, ”hurry and get me some envelopes, or some sheets of paper, anything--quick!” And to me, before I could grasp the reason for that puzzling request: ”Don't let anyone slip away, Walter.
No matter what happens, I must bind up these wounds myself.”
A few moments later I understood what Kennedy was up to. As he finished with each victim he took some bit of cotton or gauze with which he had wiped their cuts, enough blood to serve him in chemical a.n.a.lysis, and handed it to Mackay. The district attorney, very un.o.btrusively, slipped each sample into a separate envelope, sealing it, and marking it with a hieroglyph which he would be able to identify later. In this fas.h.i.+on Kennedy secured blood smears of Manton and Phelps, Millard and Kauf and Enid, Gordon, the two camera men, and a scene s.h.i.+fter. I smiled to myself.
Meanwhile a bitter, acrid odor penetrated through the windows and to every part of the structure, the odor of burning film, an odor one never forgets to fear. All those uninjured in the explosions had rushed out to see the fire, or else to escape from any further danger, the moment they recovered their wits. Manton, only cut at the wrist, and impatient as Kennedy cleaned, dusted, and bound the wound, was the first to receive attention.
”The vaults!” he called, to the men who seemed disposed to linger about. ”For G.o.d's sake get busy!” The next instant he was gone himself.
Enid was cut on the head. Tears streamed from her eyes as she clung to Kennedy's coat, trembling. ”Will it make a scar?” she sobbed. ”Will I be unable to act before the camera any more?”
He rea.s.sured her. In the case of Millard, who had several bad scalp wounds, he advised a trip to a doctor, but the scenario writer laughed.
Phelps was yellow. It seemed to me that he whimpered a bit. Gordon was disposed to swear cheerfully, although a point of gla.s.s had penetrated deep in his shoulder and another piece had gashed him across the forehead.
Finally Kennedy was through. He packed the little envelopes in the bag, still in the possession of Mackay, and added the two rolls of film from his pocket. Then, for the first time, he locked it.
As he straightened, his eyes narrowed.
”Now for s.h.i.+rley,” he muttered.
”And Marilyn,” I added.
XXVIII
THE PHOSPHORUS BOMB
We rushed out into the courtyard, Kennedy in the lead, Mackay trailing with the bag. Here there were dense clouds of fine white suffocating smoke mixed with steam, and signs of the utmost confusion on every hand. Because Manton, fortunately, had trained the studio staff through frequent fire drills, there was a semblance of order among the men actually engaged in fighting the spread of the blaze. Any attempt to extinguish the conflagration in the vault itself was hopeless, however, and so the workers contented themselves with pouring water into the bas.e.m.e.nt on either side, to keep the building and perhaps the other vaults cool, and with maintaining a constant stream of chemical mixture from a special apparatus down the ventilating system into and upon the smoldering film.
The studio fire equipment seemed to be very complete. There was water at high pressure from a tank elevated some twenty to thirty feet above the uppermost roof of the quadrangle. In addition Manton had invested in the chemical engine and also in sand carts, because water aids rather than r.e.t.a.r.ds the combustion of film itself. I noticed that the promoter was in direct charge of the fire-fighters, and that he moved about with a zeal and a recklessness which ended for once and all in my mind the suspicion that Phelps might be correct and that Manton sought to wreck this company for the sake of Fortune Features.
In an amazingly quick s.p.a.ce of time the thing was over. When the city apparatus arrived, after a run of nearly three miles, there was nothing for them to do. The chief sought out Manton, to accompany him upon an inspection of the damage and to make sure that the fire was out. The promoter first beckoned to Kennedy.
”This is unquestionably of incendiary origin,” he explained to the chief. ”I want Mr. Kennedy to see everything before it is disturbed, so that no clue may be lost or destroyed.”