Murder in the Air by Ellen Hart Page B

someone is.”
    He glanced slowly around the room. “Maybe I do. Maybe I don't.”
    “Not much of an answer.”
    Valentine's smile was as thin as a razor, but he added nothing more. “Hey, this is bullshit. Look at the time.”
    Boy, this guy really is hot to trot, thought Bram. It had only been five minutes since the last time he'd mentioned it.
    Folding one thin leg over the other, Valentine continued in the same confidential tone, “You know, I thought when Alfred Bloom arrived, he'd take over the reins of the station. Mark my words, if he was in charge, this meeting would already be over and I'd be outta here. Funny thing is, I haven't seen him around.”
    Come to think of it, Bram hadn't either. After his grand entrance on Wednesday afternoon, he'd seen him briefly at the hotel, but that was it. “Maybe he only stayed the weekend.”
    “Maybe. But if I remember Alfred, he has to have his hand in everything. He's what they call a control freak.”
    “Say, I suppose you knew him back in the Fifties when you worked at WPXL.”
    “Everybody knew Alf Bloom. He was that kind of guy. Just itching to take over the business from his father.”
    Bram was intrigued. “What'd you think of him? Personally, I mean.”
    “Alf? Eh, you know. He was a hustler. Young and on the make. Then again, so was I, but I didn't have a rich daddy lookin' out for me. Just between us, I don't think it broke brother Alf s heart when his half brother took off for points unknown. There was no love lost between those two.”
    This was news to Bram. “Why was that?”
    “Well, this is just my opinion, you understand, but it always seemed to me that there was a rivalry between them. Justin was the oldest, but he had a different father. I think Alf was jealous that he had to share Cedric—and his potential inheritance—with anyone. Especially with Justin. They were so different.”
    “In what way?”
    “Every way. Alf was a climber—a real material guy, if you know what I mean. He wanted money, power. Justin was a do-gooder. A journalistic crusader. As far as I could see, he wanted no part of the radio empire Cedric Bloom was creating. Oh, he worked for a while on a couple of shows before he went into the army, but it didn't stick. He had his own career plans in mind. What he really wanted was to follow in his own father's footsteps. His dad was a newspaper reporter, you know.”
    “I'd heard that.”
    “Physically, they couldn't have been more different. Alfred was a giant. Dark hair, dark eyes. Looked a lot like Cedric. Justin, on the other hand, was thin, not terribly tall, and fair. No one would ever have taken them for brothers.”
    “Have you talked to Alfred since he's been here?”
    Valentine uncrossed his legs and sat forward in his chair. “Nah. I've been busy with other stuff.” Glancing at Bram out of the corner of his eye, he added, “But we'll talk. I have no doubt about that.”
    Dorothy Veneger chose that moment to enter the room. She didn't seem merely happy, she looked positively triumphant.
    Bram wanted to continue his conversation with Valentine, but it would have to wait.
    Dorothy set a stack of papers down on the table. “Well, everyone,” she said, standing behind her chair, “the verdict is in.
Dallas Lane, Private Eye
is a winner!” Her smile lit up the room.
    Everyone cheered and clapped.
    “You all deserve this moment. Well done, everyone. Now, I have interviews scheduled for Valentine this afternoon with the feature editors of both local papers, and tomorrow, George and Mitzi, you've been invited to talk about your work on
Morning with Donna King.
It's the hottest locally produced TV show in town. Then, on Thursday, the two entertainment weeklies are going to be at the station for a photo shoot. They want some candid shots of the rehearsal, so everybody, make it good. Camp it up. I'm talking to a woman this afternoon who owns a vintage clothing store in downtown Minneapolis. You'll all be fitted with