“Miss Borg?”
“I’m not seeing anyone! Beat it!”
“But I am from Spewack, Anderson and Hart,” Fenner lied. “Surely you want to see me?”
The name of the famous Broadway theatrical agents gave Anna pause. She stared at him.
“Are you kidding?” she demanded suspiciously.
“What should I want to kid you for?” Fenner asked blandly. “Spewack saw your act last night. He talked to Anderson, and if Hart had been on speaking terms with Anderson, you can bet your last nickel that Anderson would have talked to Hart. I have a proposition to discuss with you, Miss Borg.”
“If this is a gag...” Anna began, then stopped. If it was true! she was thinking. Spewack, Anderson and Hart interested in her!
“If you don’t want to discuss it that’s okay with me,” Fenner said, stepping back. “But let me tell you, baby, eight hundred strippers in this city would give their G-strings for the chance.”
Anna hesitated no longer. She threw open the door.
“Well, come in...”
She led the way into the sitting room. She could kill Eddie, she was thinking. She had already inspected the damage he had inflicted on her. Suppose Spewack, Anderson and Hart wanted her for an audition? Suppose this guy wanted her to hop a taxi and go right downtown and do her act? How could she with the bruises she was carrying?
“Would you be interested to work in New York, Miss Borg?” Fenner asked, selecting the most comfortable chair and sitting down. “Or are you all tied up here?”
Anna’s eyes opened wide.
“New York? Gee! I’d love it. No, I’m not tied up.”
“You’re not under contract with the Paradise Club?”
“It’s only a week-to-week arrangement.”
“That’s fine. Sit down, Miss Borg: relax. I have a modern fairy story to tell you.”
Absentmindedly, Anna sat down, but was up immediately with a gasp of pain.
“You sit on a tack or something?” Fenner asked, interested.
“Standing is good for my figure,” Anna said, forcing a smile. “In my line, I have to watch, my figure.”
“Relax, baby. I’ll watch your figure. It’ll be a pleasure.”
“Now, see here, mister,” Anna said, “If this turns out to be a gag...”
“This is no gag, Miss Borg,” Fenner said smoothly. “We have a client with more money than sense. He wants to finance a musical on Broadway: that’ll tell you how crazy he is, but who are we to discourage him? He’s got the book, he’s got the music and now he wants a star. He insists we use local talent. He made his money in Kansas City and he’s sentimental. He wants some local girl to have the chance to be a star. We haven’t found anyone yet as good as you. Do you want the chance?”
Anna’s eyes opened wide.
“Do I want it? You really mean I’ll be a star on Broadway?”
“There’s only yourself to stop you. All Spewack has to do is to call our client, tell him about you and it’ll be in the bag.”
“Oh gee! It’s too good to be true!”
“I said it was a modern fairy story, didn’t I?” Fenner said airily. “A year’s run on Broadway; then Hollywood. You have a great future ahead of you.”
“When do I get a contract?” Anna asked, thinking she would pack at once and walk out on Eddie. “When do I meet Mr. Spewack or whoever it is?”
“I’ll have a contract ready for you to sign this afternoon. You’ll be lunching with Mr. Spewack in New York this time tomorrow.”
“You’re sure your client really wants me?” Anna asked, suddenly nervous. “Didn’t you say Mr. Spewack had to telephone him first?”
“I’m glad you brought that up,” Fenner said, lighting a cigarette. “There is that. Before we can talk to our client, there’s a little situation that needs clearing up. We like you, Miss Borg, but frankly, we don’t like your friends.”
Anna stiffened.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, the boys you run around with aren’t exactly the cream of society, are they? Take Eddie Schultz as an example. You’ll have a lot of publicity, Miss Borg, once the news leaks out you’re going to be the star of this show. We have to be careful it is favorable publicity.”
Anna began to look worried.
“I’m not married to my friends. Once I get to Broadway, I wouldn’t dream of associating with them anymore.”
“Well, that’s nice to know, but a while back you were tied up with the notorious Frank Riley and he’s right in the news. The press are certain to connect you with him. It could kill the whole show if that little item hit the headlines.”
Anna suddenly felt sick with disappointment.
“I–I scarcely knew Riley,” she said. “I–I just met him. You know how you meet people.”
“Look, Miss Borg, you have to be frank with me. You don’t meet people the way you met Riley just by chance. I’ve had to check on you. Don’t imagine I like poking my nose into your affairs, but if we are going to make a big star out of you, we can’t afford any scandal. I understand you knew Riley intimately.”
Anna made a despairing gesture.
“Then why come here, raising my hopes? I knew this was a gag! I knew it was too good to be true.”
“Hey, hey!” Fenner said. “Don’t get depressed. There’s always a way around every problem if one thinks hard enough. Now, look, Miss Borg, we can’t hide up the fact that you have associated with hoodlums. That’s impossible. So what do we do? We must use the fact to your advantage, and not to your disadvantage. They say the whole world loves a lover. I’ll tell you who the world loves even better than a lover: a reformed character! That’s what you’re going to be. We’re going to feed the press with a big sob story. We’re going to tell them how you started from nothing; how you became infatuated with Riley without knowing he was a hoodlum; how you desperately tried to make him go straight when you finally found out what he was; how you lost faith in him when he kidnapped the Blandish girl. Do you get it? From the moment Riley walked out of your life, you have been trying to get away from your sordid environment, but Eddie Schultz appeared. He forced you to live with him. Then came this chance to appear on Broadway. You seized it with both hands. The hoods of Kansas City are now the thing of the past You’re a reformed character.”
Anna didn’t think this sounded very convincing.
“Do you think they’ll believe it?” she asked doubtfully.
“If they don’t, baby, you’re sunk,” Fenner said, shaking his head.
Anna leaned against the mantel. She wished she could sit down. There was a hollow feeling inside her. She was sure now that this Broadway offer was going to be just a pipe dream.
“How are you going to make them believe it?” she asked. “Newspapermen! How I hate them! They spy and pry and they never leave you alone once they think they have a story. They don’t give a damn how much they hurt you, how much mischief they cause, how many hearts they break so long as they get their story. I hate them all — the stinking sonsofbitches!”
It wouldn’t do, Fenner thought, to tell her that he was once a newspaperman. She would probably shoot him.
“I’ll tell you how we can convince them,” he said. “Boy! What a story it would make! You’d be headline news throughout the country and good headlines at that.”
“What are you talking about?” Anna snapped.
“Look, suppose through you, the Blandish girl was found. Imagine! Think what it would mean to you: television interviews, your picture in every newspaper, Blandish paying you a reward and your name on Broadway in four-foot lights!”
“Are you drunk?” Anna demanded, her face suddenly hard. “I don’t know anything about the Blandish girl. What’s the matter with you?”