Chapter Twenty-four
NIGHT ON THE TWENTY-SEVENTH FLOOR
Jim Hill peered over her shoulder for a time. Then satisfied at the workshe was doing, he slipped away and went in quest of a basket of lunch.It was nearly half an hour before he returned and by that time Janet hadcompleted two pages of manuscript.
Jim laid the lunch out on his desk and while Janet munched a thick, coldmeat sandwich and quaffed a glass of cold milk, he read the pages withreal care.
"Say, this is just the stuff my script lacked," enthused the continuitywriter. "My gosh, Janet, you ought to be on the staff here. We pay moneyfor fresh ideas like these."
Janet stopped munching the sandwich and looked at Jim Hill with realinterest.
"You actually think it is good?" she asked.
"I'll say it's good. Of course a lot of work has to be done to put it infinished form, but you've got the meat of it here. I'm going to takethis down to McGregor. He's still in his office."
Before Janet could ask about McGregor and who he was, Jim Hill picked upthe manuscript and his own work and fled down the hall.
When he returned ten minutes later a square hulk of a man, who had thickpompadour hair and peered through thick lensed glasses, followed himinto his office.
"Janet," said the younger writer, "I want you to know Mr. McGregor, whois head of our continuity department. I showed him your manuscript andhe agrees with me that it is just what we want for the final episode inthe program for Ace Pictures. Can you go on working tonight? We've gotto have the finished draft in the morning."
There was a dire appeal in young Jim Hill's eyes. Janet couldn't haveignored that and then Mr. McGregor spoke.
"It is extremely important that we have the Ace contract," he said inhis slow, precise way. "Other companies are also anxious for it and ifour dress rehearsal Saturday night fails to meet the approval of the Aceofficials, we may lose the contract, which would then go to one of ourrivals. We are none too sure but what they have certain people withinour own staff who might sell them some of our secrets about thisprogram."
"I know the situation," said Janet. "I'm tired, but I'll keep on until Ieither go to sleep or am through."
Mr. McGregor smiled approvingly and Jim Hill felt like shouting.
"That's splendid," said the continuity chief. "I'm going to send Jimalong to bed. He's to report here early tomorrow morning to start therewriting of your story. You keep on as long as you can. When you arethrough you can lock the script in the right hand drawer of Jim's desk.Here is a key for you and Jim has one already."
The head of the continuity department departed and Jim Hill lingered onfor a minute or two.
"Want some more lunch?" he asked.
Janet, who had turned back to her typewriter, shook her head.
"How about a cup of coffee to keep you awake a while longer? I don'twant you to go to sleep before you get this material hashed out for me."
"Go on, Jim. I'll get along all right. It won't take long now if I'm notinterrupted."
Jim Hill took the hint and departed quietly and Janet continued with herwork. It was something she thoroughly enjoyed doing. This writing wascreating something out of whole cloth. Of course it would have to have aspecial revision by Jim tomorrow to work it into the script, but when itfinally went on the air there would still be a lot of her material inthe radio play.
Janet worked for more than half an hour and then leaned back in herchair for her arms ached and her eyes were blurred.
The studio was strangely silent. From somewhere at a distance came thesoft strains of an orchestra but there was no sound in the corridorwhere the writer's offices were located.
Janet picked up the sheets of copy she had written and scanned thematerial. She smiled a bit as she read it and admitted that it did realwell.
Placing the sheets back on the desk, she inserted a fresh page of copypaper into the typewriter. She would be through in a few more minutes.She glanced at her wrist watch before she started in again. It waseleven-forty. By midnight she would be through.
Janet was about to resume her work when a queer sensation started at thebase of her spine and shot up her back. It was a feeling she couldn'tquite describe and she sat perfectly motionless for several seconds.
Through her mind shot the thought that someone was watching her, peeringat her from the darkness of the long corridor.
Janet turned suddenly, but there was no one behind her. She got up andwent to the door where she could look down the corridor, but there wasno one in sight. The office across the corridor from Jim's was dark andthe windows only mirrored the shadowy depths.
Despite the fact that she saw no one, Janet was not wholly reassured andshe looked about Jim's office. There were shades at the windows and thedoor which could be pulled down and she closed the door and drew all ofthe curtains. Before returning to the desk, she snapped the spring lockon the door. That done, she went back to the typewriter, but it was hardto concentrate now.
Janet forced herself to the task. She knew she must finish and at lastgot into the mood of her script again, working now at high speed andwholly forgetful of the strange feeling which had alarmed her.
Somewhere in the distance a bell tolled midnight as she finished thelast page and pulled it triumphantly from the typewriter. The job wasdone and she felt that it was well done.
The pages she had written were scattered over the top of the desk and asshe reached out to pick them up, one of them floated to the floor. Janethalf turned to pick it up. As she did so, her eyes fell on a small gapin the curtains she had drawn on the windows along the corridor.