“Hungry,” confessed Janet. “What’s the news around the studio?”
“Oh, everybody is looking at everybody else and wondering who did it. They all seem to think it was an inside job for outsiders couldn’t have known that you were working on that script, much less where you were working. I guess suspicion centers pretty strongly right on this company.”
“That would mean someone in our own unit has sold out to a rival company and is doing everything in their power to keep this broadcast from being a success,” mused Janet.
“That’s putting it politely,” put in Curt. “I’d say that someone is a skunk, and I hate skunks.”
Jim Hill joined them just then. He looked tired and worried.
“Let’s eat,” he said, and the others agreed, the group adjourning to a nearby restaurant. They obtained a secluded table where they could talk with little risk of being overheard by prying ears.
After giving their orders, Jim turned to Janet.
“Been able to think up any clues?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“I’ve tried to think of every event that took place, but I can’t remember any special smell, or noise, and I didn’t even feel the garments of my assailant. I’m afraid I’m of no help.”