“Hell, I can’t! I’m due to make a speech downstairs at a convention banquet in just about—”
“Hell with your social obligations.” None of the deference due the Great Man in Hacklin’s tone. “Get over there, find out where she went, where she is. Don’t argue. We’ve played it your way long’s we’re going to. Herb wouldn’t be dead now if we’d done if different.”
Lanerd agreed with poor grace. “I’m sorry about Roffis. Damn sorry. I’ll do what I can to find Tildy.”
“Phone me when you get to the studio.”
“Right.”
“I don’t have to ask you to keep quiet about this?” Hacklin asked wearily.
“No, no.” Lanerd seemed to be glad to get out.
On the chance the hotel’s name might somehow be kept out of the tabloids, I let Hacklin know where I stood.
“One thing sure, you don’t have to ask me!”
“Don’t I?” He had a mean glint in his eye. “That’s where you’re wrong. I’m about to ask you plenty!”