“It is, of course, well known that whenever the breath of scandal fastens itself upon any prominent actress great pressure is brought to bear upon all concerned to hush matters up. The Blade has, however, pledged itself to discover the facts and give the news to its readers. It is to be regretted that the district attorney cannot recognize he is not a ruler but a public servant. He is employed by the taxpayers, paid from tax monies, and has taken an oath to faithfully discharge the duties of his office. He is young, untried and, in matters of this sort, inexperienced. Citizens of this community may well anticipate a carnival of crime as the crooks realize the type of man who has charge of law enforcement.
“During the campaign, Selby was ready enough with his criticisms of Roper’s methods of conducting the office; but now that he has tried to take over the reins, his groping, bewildered attempts to solve a case which Roper would have taken in his stride, show only too well the cost to the public of discharging a faithful and efficient servant merely because of the rantings of some youth whose only qualification for the position is that he wants the prestige which goes with the title.”
Another editorial, on the editorial page, dealt with the fact that, as had been predicted by The Blade, Rex Brandon and Douglas Selby, while they were perhaps well-meaning, were utterly incompetent to handle a murder case such as the mysterious death of the unidentified clergyman. Had the voters retained Sam Roper in office, the editorial said, there was little doubt but what that veteran prosecutor would have by this time learned the identity of the dead man and probably had the murderer behind bars. Certainly the community would have been spared the humiliation of having a sheriff and district attorney engage in such a comedy of errors as had resulted in bringing to an unfortunate woman the false information that her husband was dead. Roper would undoubtedly have made an investigation before jumping at such a false and erroneous conclusion.
Selby squared his shoulders.
All right, they wanted to fight, did they? Very well, he’d fight it out with them.
He heard a knock on his door and called, “Come in.”
The door opened and Selby saw a man nearly six feet tall, weighing well over two hundred pounds, smiling at him from the doorway.
The visitor wore a checked coat. His well-manicured hands adjusted the knot of his scarf as he smiled and said, in a deep, dramatic voice, “Ah, Mr. Selby, I believe? It is a pleasure.”
“You’re Trask?” Selby asked.
The big man bowed and smiled.
“Come in,” Selby said, “and tell Miss Arden to come in.”
“Miss Arden... er... er... unfortunately is not able to be, present, Mr. Selby. As you may or may not know, Miss Arden’s nerves have been bothering her somewhat of late. She has been working under a terrific strain and...”
“Where is she?” Selby interrupted, getting to his feet.
“At the close of the shooting this afternoon,” Trask said, “Miss Arden was in an exceedingly nervous condition. Her personal physician advised her...”
“Where is she?”
“She... er... went away.”
“Where?”
“To the seclusion of a mountain resort where she can get a change in elevation and scenery and complete rest.”
“Where?”
“I am afraid I am not at liberty to divulge her exact location. The orders of her physician were most explicit.”
“Who’s her physician?”
“Dr. Edward Cartwright.”
Selby scooped up the telephone. “You come in and sit down,” he said to Trask, and, into the telephone, “This is Douglas Selby, the district attorney, speaking. I want to talk with Dr. Edward Cartwright in Los Angeles. I’ll hold the wire.”
Standing with his feet spread apart, his jaw thrust forward, the receiver of the telephone held in his left hand, he said to Trask, “That’s what I get for giving a heel like you a chance to double-cross me. It won’t happen again.”
Trask strode toward him, his eyes glowering with indignation. “Are you referring to me?” he demanded in a loud, booming voice. “Are you calling me a heel? Are you intimating that I double-crossed you because Miss Arden’s health has been jeopardized by overwork?”
“You’re damned right I am,” Selby said. “I’ll tell you more about it when I’ve talked with this doctor on the telephone.”
Into the telephone he said, “Hello... rush through that call.”
A woman’s voice said, “Dr. Cartwright’s residence.”
Selby listened while the long distance operator said, “The district attorney’s office at Madison City is calling Dr. Cartwright.”
“I’m afraid Dr. Cartwright can’t come to the telephone,” the woman’s voice said.
Selby interrupted. “I’ll talk with whoever’s on the phone,” he said.
“Very well,” the operator told him.
“Who is this?” Selby asked.
“This is Mrs. Cartwright.”
“All right,” Selby said, “this is Douglas Selby. I’m the district attorney at Madison City. You put Dr. Cartwright on the telephone.”
“But Dr. Cartwright has given orders that he is not to be disturbed.”
“You tell Dr. Cartwright he can either talk on the telephone or I’ll have him brought up here and he can do his talking in front of a grand jury.”
“But... you couldn’t do that,” the woman protested.
“That,” Selby remarked, “is a matter of opinion. Please convey my message to Dr. Cartwright.”
“He’s very tired. He left orders that...”
“Convey that message to Dr. Cartwright,” Selby said, “or I’ll get a statement from him which will be made at my convenience rather than at his.”
There was a moment’s pause and the woman’s voice said dubiously, “Very well, just hold the phone a moment.”
Trask interrupted to say, “You can’t do this, Selby. You’re getting off on the wrong foot. Now I want to be friendly with you.”
“You,” Selby told him, “shut up. You promised me to have Shirley Arden here at eight o’clock. I’m already being put on the pan for falling for this Hollywood hooey. I don’t propose to be made the goat.”
“If you’re going to be nasty about it,” Trask said with an air of injured dignity, “it happens that I know my legal rights in the premises and...”
A man’s voice said, “Hello,” on the telephone, and Selby said, “Shut up, Trask.... Hello... Is this Dr. Cartwright?”
“Yes.”
“You’re the Dr. Cartwright who attends Shirley Arden, the picture actress?”
“I have attended her on occasion, yes.”
“When did you last see her?”
“What’s the object of this inquiry?”
“Miss Arden was to have been in my office this evening. She isn’t here. I want to know why.”
“Miss Arden was in an exceedingly nervous condition.”
“When did you see her?”
“This afternoon.”
“What time?”
“About three o’clock.”
“What did you tell her?”
Dr. Cartwright’s voice became very professional. “I found that her pulse was irregular, that her blood pressure was higher than should have been the case. There was some evidence of halitosis, indicating a nervous indigestion. She complained of migraine and general lassitude. I advised a complete rest.”
“Did you advise her specifically not to keep her appointment with me?”
“I advised her not to engage in any activity which would cause undue excitement or nervousness.”