“Because of the films which were in the camera?” she asked, her eyes showing her excitement.
“I wouldn’t say so,” he said. “The films in the camera show a very fine assortment of street scenes. In fact, they show the main streets of Madison City.”
“But there may be something on them. There may be something significant we could catch, something which will show the purpose he had in coming here.”
“There is,” he told her grimly, “there’s something very significant on them.”
“What is it?”
“The new ornamental street lighting pole at the corner in front of the Madison Hotel. That pole was being put up Tuesday morning when I drove down to the hotel after, the body had been discovered. In other words, the pictures in that camera were taken anywhere from hours to days after the man was killed.”
“But how could that have happened?”
He shrugged his shoulders.
“The camera was in the suitcase when you went to the hotel?”
“Yes.”
“Then the films must have been substituted.”
“How?”
“What happened to the camera?”
“The coroner took it and kept it in his safe.”
“But someone might have substituted films.”
He laughed and told her, “That’s pretty much of a job. It would take some time. You see, these films aren’t the ordinary type of roll films. They’re not backed with black paper and...”
He broke off suddenly, to stare moodily at her and said, “So that’s it.”
“What?” she asked.
“Rogue being poisoned.”
“What about him?”
“That’s the coroner’s dog, a big police dog who watches the place. Someone poisoned him. The poison was cunningly concealed and placed in a half dozen different places.”
“Oh, yes, I remember. I didn’t know his name was Rogue.”
“That was yesterday. Shortly after we came back from Riverbend.”
“And the poisoning was successful?”
“I don’t know whether the dog died or not, but he had to be removed to the veterinary hospital.”
“Then that was done so someone could substitute the films.”
Selby said, “If that’s true, it was fast work, because I picked up the camera right afterwards.”
“But the coroner was very much attached to his dog, wasn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“And he was down at the veterinary’s trying to see whether the treatment would be successful?”
“Yes.”
“Then that’s it,” she explained. “The films must have been substituted while he was down there. You can fix that time within very narrow limits. It probably won’t be over half an hour altogether.”
Selby nodded and said, “That’s a thought. How does the sheriff stand on this thing?”
“You mean what are his reactions to the piece in The Blade?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Of course, he has his own political future to think of.”
“I’m just wondering,” Selby said. “No... I’m not either. The mere fact that I think I’m wondering shows how warped my mental perspective is. Rex Brandon isn’t the type who would throw me over. He’ll stick.”
As though he had taken his cue from the words, Sheriff Brandon opened the door of Selby’s private office and said, “Hello, folks, I’m walking in unannounced.”
His big black sombrero was tipped back on his head. A home-made cigarette dangled from a corner of his mouth. His face showed the lines of character emphasized as he twisted his mouth in a one-sided grin.
“Well, old son,” he said, “it looks as though we’ve put our foot in it, doesn’t it?”
Selby said, “Where do you get that ‘we’ stuff? I’m the one that’s in bad. You’re sitting pretty. Go ahead and watch your own political fences, Rex, don’t get tied up with me. I’m a political leper.”
The sheriff’s face showed genuine surprise.
“Listen, son,” he said, “you don’t mean that.”
“Sure I mean it. I’m in bad; you’re not. There’s no reason why you should suffer by my mistakes.”
The sheriff sat down heavily on the chair. “I never expected to hear you talk that way,” he said.
“What way?”
“Turning against a partner.”
“You mean I’m turning against you,” Selby demanded incredulously, “because I won’t let you share in my disgrace.”
“Well, I wouldn’t exactly put it that way,” the sheriff said, “but we’re in this thing together and, somehow, it don’t look right for you to... well, to figure there’s any question about where I stand.”
Sylvia Martin took down the telephone and said, “Get me the city editor of The Clarion... Hello, this is Sylvia, change that headline to read, ‘SELBY AND BRANDON SOLVE MURDER.’... Yes, I’m on the inside of the story now. It’s all ready to break. They’ve got the real murderer all tied up. They’re just perfecting their case now before they strike. The arrest will be about three-thirty or four o’clock this afternoon. We’ve got an exclusive on it. I’ll have the story all ready so I can telephone it in... No, I’m not going to give you the story now... No, it isn’t all a bluff... Yes, I know I’m staking my job on it... All right, good-by.” She slammed the receiver back into place.
Selby looked at her moodily and said, “So your job hangs on it too, does it?”
“Sure,” she said cheerfully.
Selby pulled the films from his pocket. “Well, Sheriff,” he said, “here’s about all I’ve done. I’ve got a beautiful assortment of photographs of the main streets of Madison City.”
“Those were the films that were in the camera?”
“Yes. And those films were taken long after the man was dead!”
“What?”
“It’s a fact.”
“We were discussing,” Sylvia said, “how the films could have been switched in the camera. We’ve about decided that when the coroner’s dog was poisoned, it was because someone wanted to switch films.”
“What time was the dog poisoned?” Brandon asked.
“Well,” Selby said, “we can soon find out about that.”
He reached for the telephone, but it was ringing before his fingers touched it.
He picked up the receiver, said, “Hello,” and heard Shirley Arden’s penitent voice.
“Douglas Sel...” she asked, “I mean Mr. Selby?”
“Yes,” he said, stiffening.
“I’m over at the hotel,” she told him. “Strictly incognito. The same room — five fifteen.”
“What kind of a run-around is this?” he demanded. “You certainly gave me enough of a double-cross last night. If you want to know the details, you can pick up a copy of The Blade.”
“Yes,” she said contritely, “I’ve already seen it. Please come over.”
“When?”
“Right away.”
“All right,” Selby said grimly, “I’m coming. And I’m not going to be played for a sucker this time, either.”
He slammed up the telephone.
Sylvia Martin was looking at him with wide, apprehensive eyes.
“Shirley Arden?” she asked.
He nodded.
“You’re going, Doug?”
“Yes.”
“Please don’t.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t trust her. She’s clever. She’s an actress. She’s... got glamor and I’m afraid she’s going to hypnotize you.”
“She’s not going to hypnotize me this time,” Selby promised.
“Oh, please, Doug. You stay away. Have Sheriff Brandon serve a subpoena on her to appear before the grand jury. It’s your one chance to show that you weren’t bribed. This may be a trap, and, even if it isn’t, suppose Bittner finds out about her being there and about you going over? Can’t you see what we’re fighting for? We’re working against time and it means so much... so much to all of us.”