Janet Hardy in Radio City

by Ruthe S. Wheeler

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  JANET FINDS A CLUE

  Janet's sharp cry halted Curt Newsom and Helen. They turned startledfaces toward her.

  "What's the matter? Someone try to run you down?" asked Helen.

  "It's Jim," replied Janet. "A car's following his taxi. It started upfrom the curb and swung right behind his cab. Someone is after thatmanuscript. We've got to follow them."

  Curt hailed a cruising taxi and they piled in, the cowboy giving thedriver sharp directions.

  "Step on it; we'll pay any fines," he said.

  The cab lurched away, gaining speed so rapidly they shot around thecorner in a dizzy skid. Turning onto Fifth Avenue they saw the long,dark sedan and ahead of it the taxi in which Jim was riding. A stoplight blazed in their faces and their cab ground to a halt.

  "Go on, go on," urged Janet, leaning toward the driver.

  "Can't make it," he growled, pointing to the heavy stream of crosstraffic which was flowing ahead of them.

  When the light changed the taxi and its pursuing sedan had disappeared.

  "Pull over to the curb," Janet told their driver. "Now what shall wedo?" she asked her companions.

  "Anybody know where Jim lives?" asked Curt.

  "I do," replied Janet.

  "Then let's go there and wait for him. We'll be sure that he gets homeall right."

  Janet gave the driver Jim Hill's address and they raced up the avenueonce more. In less than fifteen minutes they pulled up before anapartment house and Janet went into the small lobby and pressed thebuzzer that signalled Jim's apartment. There was no reply and shereturned to the cab, a mounting fear in her heart.

  She communicated the news to Curt and Helen and they fell silent,waiting and hoping that Jim would arrive.

  Minutes ticked away and the taxi driver glanced uneasily at his meterand wondered about his pay.

  "I'm going to call the studio and see if he returned there by anychance," said Janet, driven to action in her desperation.

  She walked to a nearby drug store and from a pay station theretelephoned the World Broadcasting studio. It was as she had feared; Jimhad not returned. In fact, there was no one in the continuitydepartment.

  It was with a heavy heart that Janet returned to the cab. So muchdepended upon the safeguarding of the script. There was their own radiodebut for one thing. But that was comparatively minor. More than thatwas the success of the broadcast which was to arouse public interest inthe film which Helen's father had created. This was what really counted.

  When she told Helen and Curt that Jim had not returned to the studio,the cowboy sat silent for a time.

  "This isn't getting us anywhere," he said. "We may get in trouble, butit's worth a try."

  Without explaining what he intended to do, he bolted toward the drugstore and returned a minute later with an address written on a slip ofpaper. He gave this to their driver and ordered him to get there withthe least possible delay.

  "Where are we going?" asked Janet.

  "To pay a little call on Director Adolphi."

  "Then you think he's mixed up in this thing?" Helen asked.

  "I'm sure of it now. There's something about him that just doesn't ringtrue."

  There was little conversation in the cab during their fast ride to thedirector's apartment and they all went up together after Curt had paidthe taxi bill.

  Insistent ringing of the bell failed to bring an answer and at last theyturned away, their hearts heavy with despair.

  "I'm going to report this to the nearest police station," said Curt."You girls might just as well go back to your hotel. There's nothingfurther you can do."

  "But we seem so helpless," groaned Helen.

  "We're just exactly that," growled Curt as he signalled two cabs, onefor the girls and the other for himself. "I'll phone you the minute Iget any word of good news."

  Janet and Helen said little on their way back to the hotel, for anumbing sort of ache had taken possession of their bodies. After days offatiguing rehearsals, the broadcast appeared doomed. Helen cried alittle as their cab swung onto Broadway and the bright lights of theGreat White Way blazed in their faces.

  At the hotel Janet stopped at the desk to inquire about mail and theclerk handed her a telegram.

  "It's for you," she said, handing the message to Helen, who tore it openwith fingers that were none too steady.

  "Oh, this is awful," she groaned. "Dad and Mother are coming to New Yorkfor the first broadcast. What will I do?"

  "Don't answer the telegram tonight," Janet warned her. "Perhapssomething brighter will have taken place by tomorrow."

  Janet opened the door of her own room and snapped on the light. As shedid so a small envelope, which had been slipped under the door, drew herattention and she reached down to pick it up. Helen came in the roomjust then and looked at Janet curiously as she opened the envelope.

  Janet's face flushed as she read the message, which had been printedcrudely on a sheet of fine linen paper.

  "What is it?" asked Helen, alarmed at the expression on Janet's face.

  Janet handed her the sheet of paper.

  "Go back to the sticks where you belong or you'll get more of whathappened last night. This means both of you."

  "Why, the nerve of some people," stormed Helen. "I won't be threatenedinto leaving."

  "Neither will I," said Janet firmly, "but this thing is getting terriblyserious. Last night I was made unconscious by some prowler and tonightJim has disappeared with the script of our radio show."

  Janet paused and looked at the sheet of stationery in her hand. Then shelifted it to her nose and sniffed carefully. Helen looked on inwonderment and Janet finally handed the sheet to her.

  "Smell anything?" she asked.

  "There's just a trace of perfume," agreed Helen.

  "Ever smell that before?" Janet was insistent.

  "It does seem kind of familiar, but I don't know where."

  "Wasn't it in the studio?" Janet was pressing hard for an answer.

  "Perhaps it was."

  "Someone in our company?"

  Helen looked frankly alarmed and finally a wave of comprehension sweptover her.

  "You mean Rachel Nesbit?"

  Janet nodded. "That's just who I mean. This sheet is scented with thesame perfume Rachel uses. Of course hundreds of others may use it, too,but it at least gives us a clue. And this printing, disguised though itis, is that of a woman."

  "Then if we can find Rachel, we may be able to solve this mystery,"burst out Helen.

  "If we can scare her into telling us something," agreed Janet. "I'llphone the studio and get her home address. We'll go there at once."

  "What about Curt? He'll want to know what's going on."

  "This is a woman's job," replied Janet. "We'll let him try to find Jim.You and I are going alone on this particular mission."

  Chapter Thirty

  OPPORTUNITY AHEAD

  They obtained Rachel's home address from the studio, slipped on theircoats, and after making sure that they had an ample supply of money intheir purses, hastened down and hailed a cab.

  Rachel lived in the Greenwich Village section and their driver swungover to Fifth Avenue and raced south, green lights winking a clear pathahead of them.

  There was little conversation in the cab as they sped toward the villageand when they drew up in front of the narrow building which housedRachel's apartment Janet paid the bill.

  "What are you going to say to her?" asked Helen.

  Janet shook her head. "I don't know," she admitted. "I suppose I'llaccuse her of writing this threatening note. That ought to be enough toget us into her apartment and once we're there you look around foranything suspicious."

  They were entering the apartment when a car drew up to the curb andJanet seized her companion's arm.

  "Get out of sight, quick. That's the sedan which followed Jim's taxi."

  They slipped into the shadows to the right of the doorway and watchedthe sedan. Rachel
Nesbit stepped out and after her came John Adolphi,director of their radio program. Janet could hear Helen's gasp for underthe director's arm was a familiar portfolio. It was the portfolio inwhich Jim Hill had carried the manuscript.

  Rachel and the director disappeared into the apartment building andJanet, without a word to Helen, ran toward the nearest shop, a littlefruit store in a half basement.

  "Where can I find a policeman?" she demanded.

  The shop keeper helped her phone in an alarm and in less than fiveminutes a radio car pulled up in front of the store.

  Janet told her story quickly and when the officers looked doubtful, shepleaded with them.

  "You've got to believe me. Every minute counts. If that script isdestroyed the company may lose thousands of dollars worth of business."

  Then she put through several calls and finally reached Mr. McGregor,head of the continuity department. His words electrified the police andthey swept down the streets and stormed up into the apartment buildingto the third floor where Rachel lived. In answer to their sharp knock,Rachel opened the door and they shouldered their way in.

  Janet saw Rachel's face blanch as she saw her, but Janet's heart leapedfor on a table was the missing manuscript. Director Adolphi was pulledout of a closet and from his ashen lips tumbled the sordid story. He wasreally Rachel's brother and the two had conspired to steal themanuscript and ruin the World Broadcasting Company's chances for thecontract with the motion picture company. Another broadcaster hadoffered him a large sum, he said, and promised a job if he would stealthe script and ruin the program.

  They hastened back to the studio where a tense group awaited theircoming. Mr. McGregor was there and so was Curt. Janet started suddenlywhen she saw Jim Hill with a bandage around his head.

  "What happened to you?" she asked anxiously.

  "Adolphi ran my cab into a curb and then pulled a gun on me and took thescript away. Of course he had a mask on, but I recognized his voice. Heclouted me over the head when I tried to resist and the next thing Iknew Curt had found me at the police station where I was being givenemergency treatment."

  Mr. McGregor spoke. "What about Adolphi and that precious sister ofhis?"

  "They are in police custody awaiting whatever charges may be filedagainst them," said Janet.

  Mr. McGregor nodded. "That can be done tomorrow. How about you girls?"

  "We're all right," replied Janet and Helen.

  "A little tired, maybe," added Helen, by way of an afterthought.

  The continuity chief looked at Jim Hill.

  "Think you can step in tomorrow and whip this company in to shape sowe'll be sure of the contract?" he asked.

  Jim's face lighted up. "I know I can."

  "Then get home and get some sleep. You're in charge of the program."

  He turned back to Janet and Helen.

  "Like New York?" the question was so sudden that it caught themunawares.

  "It's exciting," gasped Helen.

  "It isn't always like this," smiled the continuity chief. He was lookingintently at Janet.

  "How would you like to join my staff as a writer?"

  Janet could hardly believe her ears.

  "Why, I think I'd like it," she managed to say. "Yes, I know I would."She plunged in blindly.

  "Then if you girls want to stay on, there'll be a place for Helen in thestock company and for you on my writing staff," he said. "Think it overand let me know tomorrow."

  An hour later when they were alone in their rooms, Janet and Helen hadtheir first chances to talk uninterruptedly.

  Helen smiled contentedly.

  "It's such a relief to know that the program to boost Dad's picture isgoing through all right," she said. After a pause she went on, "Whatshall we do about the jobs in Radio City?"

  "I think I'll accept," said Janet.

  "But what about school back home; what about going to Corn Belt U.?"

  "I've thought of that, but an opportunity to work in Radio City doesn'tcome every day. In six months we'll have had enough. Then we can go backand start our university careers at Corn Belt U."

  "What will our folks think?" asked Helen.

  "I believe they'll agree with us that six months here in radio work canbe looked upon as a valuable part of our education."

  "Then we'll tell Mr. McGregor we'll stay?"

  "That's exactly what we'll tell him. Now I'm going to write the folksand tell them all about it," said Janet, picking up a pen and sittingdown to the task of writing of the thrilling adventures which hadbefallen them since their arrival in New York.

  THE END