Tom Carlin took the hint.
Next morning FKIP’s ten o’clock music program blared at Joe as he walked through Royal Street. What would to-day bring? He dreaded entering Vic Wylie’s office; he dreaded staying away. He took a deep breath in the hall and steeled himself for whatever Wylie would tell him. Smiling, his hat cocked a little to one side, he opened the door. The bright babble of light, gay voices met him; Lucille, Stella, and Archie were in their accustomed corner. He walked toward the corner, and all at once it was as though he saw his three friends individually and apart, each one watchful, wary and withdrawn.
Joe’s nerves were tight. He thought: “It’s true; they know.” He hung up his hat and drawled: “Amby phoned me last night.”
There was an instant of profound silence.
“I thought he would.” Lucille’s voice had become hard. “Little Sunshine Carver.”
Joe was casual. “How did Mrs. Munson’s nephew get into this?”
“Amby has an idea he’d like to work himself into the Munson store. Public relations, radio—a nice job. He heard that Mrs. Munson had a nephew in Baltimore who was ambitious to get into show business. Anybody want to guess the rest?”
“So the nephew,” Stella fluted, “was brought up here to read to Amby.”
“That must have been good,” Archie Munn commented dryly.
“Anybody want to guess,” Lucille asked, “what Amby told Mrs. Munson? Well, Mrs. Munson fell for it.”