Chapter 7
Wayne made it down to the station in record time. Fortunately, he was still dressed, his car had plenty of gas, the freeways were next to deserted at this hour, and he encountered no Highway Patrol officers, so there were no hindrances to his speed. Even so, it took more than twenty-five minutes to reach the studio.
The broadcasting rooms were in chaos. Mort Schulberg was practically bouncing off the walls in frustrated rage, swearing Yiddish obscenities at the perversity of the universe. Bill DeLong was conferring with Ernie White in the brightly lit engineering booth against the back wall; DeLong was reading numbers off the dials while White had his shirtsleeves rolled up and had taken half the wiring apart. The only spot of quiet was the cubicle where Rondel’s body lay still
