"Yeah. Hello. We'll be over in time for the program."
"Get over now. I've found out who's writing the letters."
"You don't say?"
"I do say. And I've got proof."
Lennox hung up. He glanced at the green room monitor. Cooper and one of the dancers had started their duet. Lennox turned up the speaker volume and watched, his face drawn and savage. The spot started badly. Cooper and the dancer missed their cue, the orchestra had to wait for them, they came in off beat. Their singing was inaudible and ragged. Cooper moved like a St. Vitus dancer. Even on the monitor his shaking was obvious.
"Varsity show talent," Lennox snarled.
After two agonizing minutes, the voice of Avery Borden cut through the orchestra and singing with the clarity of exasperation: "No! No! No! This is impossible."
Cooper and the dancer stopped and peered out into the theater.
"Get them out of here!" Borden shouted. "What is this? Amateur Night?"
"So they stink," Grabinett's voice came faintly from another part of the theater. "What can we do? We got three Almighty minutes to fill."