Chapter Nineteen
A MANUSCRIPT VANISHES
Janet went directly to their hotel and asked at the desk about renting atypewriter. Arrangements were made to have one delivered at her roomwithin half an hour and she went to change into an older dress,something that wouldn't be hurt by wrinkles that were bound to come asshe labored over the typewriter.
The machine was delivered promptly and Janet used a supply of the hotelstationary for her writing material. At first the idea of setting downintimate little things about the filming of the picture had appearedeasy, but now that the task was before her, the words and ideas did notcome freely.
Janet wondered if she dared to record the story of the sabotage when thecompany was on desert location. She could imagine that it would makegrand material for broadcasting purposes and so she set resolutely aboutthe task. The worst that could happen would be for Mr. Adolphi to rejectit entirely. Janet finally got started and once under way the flow ofwords came smoothly and her fingers moved rapidly over the keyboard.
She worked steadily for more than an hour, got up, stretched, walkedaround the room and returned to the writing. She wasn't attempting tomake it a complete story, just giving the sequences as they had happenedduring the filming of "Kings of the Air" and the mysterious events whichhad taken place out on the desert. It was natural that Janet should hintthat the plotting was the work of another concern for it had been commontalk in their own company later that Premier Films, also producing anair story, had attempted to keep their own film from a successfulconclusion. But it had only been talk for there was no definite proof.
Helen came hurrying in just as Janet finished her work.
"How is it going?" she asked.
"All through," replied her companion. "Have a good time?"
"Grand. I never knew there could be so many beautiful shops in such asmall area. Come on now. I want to ride a subway."
"I'll have to change clothes," said Janet.
"Never mind changing for a subway trip. We'll go down to the Battery. Iinquired the way at the desk."
Janet slipped on a light brown coat and followed Helen down and acrossto the Times Square subway station where they found themselves engulfedin the crowd and the noise. Helen dropped two nickels in the turnstileand they went through the gate, Helen still in the lead and stridingalong as though she were the veteran of many a ride in the subwayinstead of a rank beginner.
A train roared out of the darkness of the tube and Janet saw a sign,"South Ferry," on the windows.
"This is our train," cried Helen, shoving her companion ahead of her andinto one of the seats. Other passengers piled in, the doors clanged andthey were roaring through the tunnel far under the street level. Theirtrain was an express and occasionally they shot past a slower local. Theair was close with an odor that is peculiar to a subway, but Janetenjoyed the ride, watching the crowd in the car. It was evident thatmost of them were accustomed to using the subway several times a day andthey were either visiting or reading evening papers, which they hadfolded so they would take up the least possible room.
At the South Ferry station they walked up to the street levels andentered Battery park. Janet paused a moment, struck by the beauty of theharbor in the late afternoon. Beyond the Battery was the Statue ofLiberty and even further the tidewater flats of Jersey.
Several freighters, which had cleared their docks a few minutes before,were going down the harbor and Janet and Helen, standing along theBattery wondered for what distant port they might be bound.
They walked past the Aquarium. On another afternoon they would come backand spend several hours going through that fascinating building.
"I'm tired," confessed Janet. "Let's get back to the hotel now, cleanup, and have dinner. Perhaps we'll go to a show after that."
Helen readily agreed to the suggestion and they returned to the SouthFerry station where they caught an uptown express that took them toTimes Square at a dizzy pace.
When they emerged from the tube, the shadows were lengthening in theheart of the city. Sidewalks were crowded with hundreds of men and womenon their way home after a day's work in the city. They paused forseveral minutes to watch the teeming mass of humanity and then turnedand entered their hotel.
Janet was the first to step into their rooms and the instant she passedthe threshold a feeling of foreboding gripped her and she stopped sosuddenly that Helen bumped into her.
"What's the matter?" asked Helen, looking up quickly.
Janet looked a little sheepish. "I don't know. For some reason I thoughtthere was something wrong in here."
"Want me to scream?" smiled Helen. "I can do a good job of that and Iguarantee to get someone here in less than a minute with one scream."
In spite of the banter Janet was far from reassured for a feeling ofunrest had settled down upon her. She snapped on the lights in the roomand looked around.
Apparently nothing had been disturbed and Helen walked past her and wenton into her own room. A puff of wind stirred the curtains at thehalf-opened window and Janet walked over and looked out. There was nofire escape nearby and it would have been impossible for anyone to havegained access to their room in that manner. But then, she asked herself,why would anyone want to enter their room. They carried no personaljewelry of any value and the money they had left in the room was of sucha small amount that it would not make robbery worth while.
In the next room Helen was humming to herself as she undressed andprepared to take a shower. Janet dropped down on the bed to rest amoment. It had been a hectic day and she was tired. Her eyes dropped andshe fell into a deep sleep.
Helen finished her shower, looked in at Janet, then returned to her ownroom, where she partially dressed, put on a dressing gown, and sat downto write a letter home chronicling the events of her first day in NewYork.
Janet awoke as suddenly as she had fallen asleep. Helen had turned outthe light in her room and it was quite dark now, the only light comingthrough the half-opened door that led to the bathroom and on to Helen'sroom.
Janet turned on the light over the desk where she had been writing andglanced down at the manuscript she had been working on. She turned andcalled sharply to Helen.
"Did you pick up the manuscript I finished this afternoon?" she asked.
"Haven't seen it since we left for the Battery," replied Helen. "Thelast I knew it was right beside your typewriter. Maybe you're too sleepyto see it."
"I'm not that sleepy," retorted Janet.
Perhaps she had put it on the dresser and she turned toward that articleof furniture but there was no sign of the manuscript there. She pulledopen the drawers, but the manuscript was not there and Helen joined herin the hunt.
"Sure you haven't taken it to your room and mislaid it?" asked Janet, adeep pucker of worry lining her forehead.
"We'll look to make sure," said Helen and they hastened to her room, butthe search there was just as fruitless as the one in Janet's room. Janeteven looked in the closets, but there was no encouragement there. In alast hope, she went through the wastepaper basket, but she was doomed todisappointment and turned to Helen, her voice shaking with emotion.
"There's no doubt about it now," she declared. "Someone entered ourrooms while we were away and stole the manuscript I had been workingon!"
Janet Hardy in Radio City Page 19
