There's no one who won't be glad that he's gone.
A miserly septugenarian wearing a papier-mâché "Chinaman" head is murdered at his own costume party -- and not because of his un-PC outfit. The man's recently disinherited granddaughter flees the scene in the company of her fiancé, of whom the murder victim disapproved. Meanwhile, her other, spurned suitor -- a mystery writer -- stays put and makes a nuisance of himself when the police arrive to investigate. This is the basic set-up of 1934's Green Eyes, and it never gets any more complicated than that. Oh, sure. There are plenty of other suspects -- once the party guests are sent home by the police (seriously, this is a thing that happens in the film), everybody left in the house is under suspicion at one time or another -- but there's never any doubt that the writer and the young couple are in the clear, even as the latter go to great lengths to incriminate themselves.
It's debatable whether anybody could be said to "star" in such a marginal film as Green Eyes, but Shirley Grey is top-billed as Jean Kester, the headstrong granddaughter, with Charles Starrett right below her as Michael Tracy, the meddlesome writer. And since the next one on the list (Claude Gillingwater) is deceased before the film begins and only appears in one flashback, that doesn't say much for the rest of the cast, and I don't plan to, either. I do find it noteworthy, however, that director Richard Thorpe eventually graduated from the westerns and programmers he started out making to films like The Thin Man Goes Home, Ivanhoe, and Jailhouse Rock. That's pretty much the definition of a journeyman right there.