Signal in the Dark Part 6

"Dad--"

Mr. Parker, who had finished his breakfast, hastily shoved back his chair. "Well, I must be getting to the office," he said. "Don't be late, Penny."

"Dad, about that story last night--"

"No time now," he interposed. "On a newspaper, yesterday's stories are best forgotten."

Penny understood then that her father already knew all the details of her downfall. Relieved that there was no need to explain, she grinned and hurriedly ate her breakfast.

Because her father had taken the car and gone on, she was compelled to battle the crowd on the bus. The trip took longer than she had expected.

Determined not to be late for work, she ran most of the way from the bus stop to the office. By the time she had climbed the stairs to the newsroom, she was almost breathless.

As she came hurriedly through the swinging door, Elda Hunt, cool and serene, looked up from her typewriter.

"Why the rush?" she drawled, but in a voice which carried clearly to everyone in the room. "Are you going to another fire?"

CHAPTER 5 _SHADOW ON THE SKYLIGHT_

Ignoring the thrust, Penny hung up her hat and coat and went to work.

Neither Editor DeWitt nor his a.s.sistant, Mr. Jewell, made any reference to the explosion story of the previous day.

Another reporter had written the "follow-up" on it which Penny read with interest. Cause of the explosion, responsible for more than $40,000 damages, had not yet been determined. However, Fire Chief Schirr had stated that there was evidence the explosion had not been accidental.

Several witnesses had reported seeing a man in light overcoat flee from the building only a few minutes before the disaster.

"He must have been the fellow who leaped into that waiting car and escaped!" Penny thought. "And to think, Salt's picture might actually be evidence in the case, if I hadn't thrown it away!"

She was staring glumly at the story when DeWitt motioned for her to take a telephone call. It was another obituary.

"After m.u.f.fing a good story, I'll probably be a.s.signed to these things for the rest of my time on the paper," Penny thought as she mechanically scribbled notes.

All morning the obituaries kept coming in, and then there were the hospitals to call for accident reports, and the weather bureau. After lunch, a reporter was needed to interview a famous actress who had arrived in Riverview for a personal appearance. It was just the story Penny wanted to try. She knew she could do it well, for in months past, she frequently had contributed special feature stories to the paper.

Mr. DeWitt's gaze focused upon her for an instant, but he pa.s.sed her by.

"Elda," he said, and she went quickly to his desk to receive instructions.

Elda was gone a long while on the a.s.signment. When she returned in the afternoon, she spent nearly two hours typing the interview. Several times Editor DeWitt glanced impatiently at her, and finally he said: "Let's have a start on that story, Elda. You've been fussing with it long enough."

She gave it to him. As Mr. DeWitt read, he used his pencil to mark out large blocks of what had been written. But as he gave the story to a copy reader who would write the headline, he said: "Give her a byline."

Elda heard and grinned from ear to ear. A byline meant that a caption directly under the headline would proclaim: "By Elda Hunt."

Penny, who also heard, could not know that Mr. DeWitt had granted the byline only because it was customary with a personal interview story. She felt even more depressed than before.

"See if you can find a picture of this actress in the photography room,"

DeWitt instructed Elda. "Salt Sommers took one this morning, but it hasn't come up yet."

With a swishing of skirts, for she now was in a fine mood, Elda disappeared down the corridor. Fifteen minutes elapsed. Penny, busy writing hand-outs and obituaries, had forgotten about her entirely, until Mr. DeWitt summoned her to his desk.

"See if you can find out what became of Elda," he said in exasperation.

"Tell her we'd like to have that picture for today's paper."

Penny went quickly toward the photography room. The door was closed. As she opened it, she was startled half out of her wits by hearing a shrill scream. The cry unmistakably came from an inner room of the photography studio and was Elda's voice. At the same instant, a gust of cool air struck Penny's face.

"Elda!" she called in alarm.

"Here," came the girl's m.u.f.fled voice from the inner room.

Fearing the worst, Penny darted through the doorway. Elda had collapsed in a chair, her face white with terror. Wordlessly, she pointed toward the ceiling.

Penny gazed up but could see nothing amiss. Warm sunshine was pouring through the closed skylight which covered half the ceiling area.

"What ails you, Elda?" she asked. "Why did you scream?"

"The skylight!"

"What about the skylight?" Penny demanded with increasing impatience. "I can't see anything wrong with it."

"Only a moment ago I saw a shadow there," Elda whispered in awe.

"A shadow!" Penny was tempted to laugh. "What sort of shadow?"

"I--I can't describe it. But it must have been a human shadow. I think a man was crouching there."

"Nonsense, you must have imagined it."

"But I didn't," Elda insisted indignantly. "I saw it just before you opened the door."

"Did the skylight open?"

"Not that I saw."

Recalling the cool gust of wind that had struck her face, Penny took thought. Was it possible that Elda actually had seen someone crouching on the skylight? However, the idea seemed fantastic. She could think of no reason why any person would hide on the roof above the photography room.

"Oh, snap out of it, Elda," she said carelessly. "Even if you did see a shadow, what of it?"

"It was a man, I tell you!"

"A workman perhaps. Mr. DeWitt sent me to tell you he was in a hurry for that picture."

"Oh, tell Mr. DeWitt to jump in an ink well!" Elda retorted angrily.

"He's always in a hurry."

"You haven't been watching a shadow all this time, I judge," Penny commented.