Death at the Selig Studios by Frances McNamara

Author:Frances McNamara
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical mystery
ISBN: 978-0-9996982-0-4
Publisher: Allium Press of Chicago
Published: 2018-05-11T00:00:00+00:00

Twenty-Three

After some inconclusive interviews at the Bedford, I took a train back to Hyde Park. As the scenery flew by the window in a blur of early green leaves, I tried to think of how we could prove that Alonzo Swift had left the hotel and driven back to the studios. No one there admitted seeing him, or anything else of interest. Our last interview at the hotel had been with a bellboy, who insisted that Swift’s lilac saloon had been left in two different places on the street that night. Whitbread doubted the boy’s usefulness as a witness, however, after he admitted he wasn’t completely sure whether he was remembering the previous night or some evening earlier in the week. But I was sure Whitbread would be able to prove that Swift had returned and locked Leeder in the cage. It was horrible to contemplate such an act but, somehow, I could believe Alonzo Swift might have turned the key and walked away, able to sooth what conscience he had with the knowledge that he hadn’t been present at the man’s actual death.

The shooting of Hyde was, of course, a different matter, but perhaps Whitbread would be able to find something to link Alonzo Swift to that murder as well.

Nonetheless, I was anxious about Alden. He seemed to be sunk in a quagmire. He was so involved with these loathsome film people. It was an addiction, like gambling. He was imagining some sort of glory for himself that was only a fickle shade, always out of reach. He was succumbing to it, and Clara needed to know just how close he’d come to falling. At least he had returned home the previous evening. I wanted to insist to Clara that she demand he cut off his connection with the Selig studios and come with us to Woods Hole. Once there, we could make him see how rash it was to think of following Selig to California. He could find another newspaper job or, at worst, remain at home writing fiction. I trusted that Col. Selig would move his operations to California regardless of whether Alden followed him or remained in Chicago. Good riddance to the lot of them. I’d had quite enough of the mad film people.

I tried to compose a logical set of arguments as I walked along to Clara and Alden’s town house. The maid led me to the sitting room on the first floor, where Clara knelt on the floor, pulling books from the shelves and setting them in piles to be packed in a trunk by the doorway. She continued to work vigorously while I described all that had happened that day.

“So, you see, Alden is in the clear since he came home last night. Mr. Leeder was locked in that cage sometime after midnight. But you really must insist that Alden break all ties with that studio,” I said. I was relieved that I didn’t have to tell Clara about my suspicions concerning Kathlyn Williams.

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