Chapter Twenty-one
INSINUATIONS
At the cool words of the cowboy star, the radio director whirled to facehim.
"Just what do you mean by that," he demanded, his face flushing.
"I mean just this," retorted Curt. "There was a very real attempt madeon the coast to stop the filming of 'Kings of the Air' and it begins tolook like that attempt is being carried on even in New York in an effortto stop the promotion of the picture. All I've got to say is thatsomeone had better be careful."
"Are you insinuating anything?" demanded the radio director.
"I'm not insinuating; I'm just saying," said the cowboy star firmly.
The director turned back to Janet.
"You're sure the manuscript was stolen?"
"It was unless someone in the studio here has it," she replied.
"I'll make inquiries," he promised, "but I am sure no one in the studiowould have sent for it."
Mr. Adolphi left studio K and Janet, Helen and Curt Newsom were alone.
"You're not kidding about the manuscript being missing?" Curt asked.
"No, Curt, I'm terribly serious. We went out for a time yesterdayafternoon. While we were gone the maid came in to leave clean towels andwhile she was in the room a man came in. He said he was from the studiohere and had come for the manuscript. Naturally the girl didn't objectand he walked out with the papers."
"What did you have in the story?"
"Oh, a lot about the final days in the desert. How the attempts weremade to stop the picture, the bombing from the sky and my ownkidnaping."
"Did you hint that some other company was responsible for this?" Thequestion was snapped at Janet.
"Come to think of it, I did, but of course I didn't mention any companyby name."
Curt scratched his head in frank worry.
"You know," he confessed, "this thing has got me puzzled. There is somepowerful agency at work to stop the picture Helen's father made and Ibelieve its influence must extend right here into this studio. You girlsbe sure and watch your step and especially at night."
"But nothing will happen to us," protested Helen.
"No, I don't suppose there will, but you keep on the alert just thesame," Curt warned them.
Mr. Adolphi returned and shook his head in response to Janet's inquiringgaze.
"I've checked everyone in the studio," he said, "and no one knowsanything about it. Can you do the manuscript over?"
"Probably," assented Janet, "but I'd prefer not to under thecircumstances."
The director did not insist and Janet thought perhaps he even seemed alittle relieved.
Other members of the company arrived. Several of them had been in thefilm company on the coast but most of them were from the regular stockcompany which the studio maintained for its dramatic needs. Most of themwere pleasant enough. Only one of them turned Janet against her and thatwas the small, dark-haired actress who had bumped into her the daybefore and called her a "clumsy fool." That was Rachel Nesbit and Janetthought her eyes a trifle too close together and her mouth too hard. Itlooked as though it was difficult for Rachel to look pleasant and therewas a sulky twist to her lips.
Janet soon found that Rachel was the pampered member of the studio'sstock company. She was considered an actress of ability and she arrivedlate and left early during rehearsals. Her one redeeming grace was thatshe came through when she was before a microphone. Janet also learnedthat Rachel was writing in addition to her acting and that she had hadseveral of her skits produced on the air.
As soon as the company was assembled, Director Adolphi plunged into thetask of rehearsing. Sound men brought in the necessary paraphernalia andthrough the hours of the morning they went over the first scene whichwas to be presented in their radio show. The program was to be unusual,running half an hour for five consecutive nights, each of themincreasing the tempo and mystery of the action. Janet, reading thescript, could feel the thing getting into her blood and she was anxiousfor the hour to come when they would actually go on the air.
She had no fear of the microphone, now, for that had vanished while shewas working for Billy Fenstow in the westerns with Curt Newsom andHelen.
The trio had lunch together that noon, and returned immediately to thestudio, where rehearsals continued into the afternoon and at the closeof the day the director rather grudgingly conceded that the company hadmade excellent progress.
"Be here tomorrow sharply at nine," he cautioned as he dismissed themfor the day.
Members of the company scattered quickly, some of them hurrying away tocatch trains for their suburban homes.
Janet, Helen, and Curt Newsom walked slowly toward the elevators. Thecorridor down which they walked was practically deserted for none of thestudios flanking it were in use. They entered the main lobby of theWorld Broadcasting Company office. From a loudspeaker on the receptiondesk came the voice of a world-famous crooner which Helen recognizedinstantly.
"That's a program I'd like to see," she told Curt.
"Come on, then. Now that we are members of a radio company, we ought tobe able to crash the gates."
The cowboy star inquired the way to the proper studio and they turnedand walked down a long corridor to Studio A, the largest and most costlyof all of the broadcasting rooms of the World Company. It was like alittle theater, with sloping seats and a stage upon which the performersworked before the microphone. At the back was a large orchestra, whileup to the front of the stage the famous crooner was singing into a"mike."
"Why, he doesn't look at all like I thought he would," exclaimed Helenas they peered through the plate glass windows which flanked one wall ofthe studio. "He's much older."
"Many of us are disillusioned about our heroes and heroines," said Curtquietly. "Let's eat. I'd like a steak."
"Sounds good to me," agreed Janet, and even Helen was willing to leavethe studio after another minute or two of gazing at the crooner.
They ate in a small but attractive restaurant off Sixth Avenue and aftera leisurely meal Curt hurried away to keep an appointment and Janet andHelen, though tired from the long day's grind of rehearsals, strolledover to Fifth Avenue to look into shop windows. After half an hour onthe avenue, they started back to their Times Square hotel, heading weston one of New York's dark and little-frequented cross streets.
They were halfway down the long, dimly lit block when Helen seizedJanet's arm.
"Someone's following us!" she whispered.
Janet Hardy in Radio City Page 21