CHAPTER XXII
Real Phantoms
“So these are our suspects?” Judy looked about at the array of machinery in the area just in front of the studio floor. It was the next day. She had come with Irene to rehearsal. To all appearances she was simply an interested friend, but Mr. Lenz knew, the moment he saw her, that she had come for another purpose.
“I’ve seen the papers,” he said to Irene. “I know your friend is missing, and I can tell you something about what happened backstage last Saturday. I was standing at the door to the film storage room and saw it all. She came back here during intermission. Your guest star hadn’t arrived, and everybody was all excited. When they saw this girl you call Clarissa Valentine they jumped to the conclusion that she was Francine Dow and brought out the wig and costume.”
“I see.” It was clear to Judy what had happened. “Clarissa said she came to New York hoping to get a little part on TV. That was the way she put it. The part she got wasn’t so little.”
“She was there when she was needed,” Irene put in, “but how did she happen to go backstage in the first place?”
“I think I can answer that question,” Judy said. “She went back for those two bottles of shampoo she left in the dressing room, and when she saw Francine Dow wasn’t there, she stepped into the part because she didn’t want the show spoiled and because—well, it does happen that sometimes one person’s failure is another’s opportunity.”
“I guess that’s the way of it,” agreed Mr. Lenz. “That girl can really act. With all the publicity she’ll get when she is located, she’s sure to be in demand, and I don’t mean just for spot advertising.”
“Speaking of advertising,” Judy began as if it had just come up casually in the conversation, “there was a commercial on this channel last Saturday—”
“If you mean the golden hair wash commercial, it won’t be shown again. I can promise you that,” the projectionist went on, becoming excited. “I know why you’ve come. I could see you were curious. Well, that young ad man had talked somebody here into showing that film, phantoms and all—”