Part 8 (2/2)

”I can't talk over the phone. I got to see you.”

That was Hollywood. The federal government and the state government pa.s.s laws against wiretapping and people worry about talking over the phone. It's a fetish you don't fight; whenever something really important goes on, you can't talk over the phone.

”All right,” I said wearily. ”Where are you? Home?”

”Yes,” he answered.

”I'll drop in on you after I eat some dinner,” I said, and hung up.

I picked my coat off the bed and went back into the living room. Doris was putting on some lipstick in front of a mirror.

”I gotta make a stop after dinner, honey. Do yuh mind?”

”No,” she said. She knew Hollywood too.

It was nearly eleven o'clock when we got to the restaurant. It was nearly deserted. Hollywood is an early town during the week. Everyone who is working is in bed by ten o'clock because he has to be on the job at seven in the morning. We were given a quiet table in a corner.

We ordered old-fas.h.i.+oneds, steak, french fries, and coffee. She was more hungry than she had realized. I smiled to myself as I watched her eat. Say what you like about a woman's diet; hungry or not hungry, put a steak in front of her and watch it disappear. Maybe it was because some smart press agent planted the rumor that steak was not fattening. Anyway, she did it justice. I did too, but then, I always did.

Her plate was empty and she pushed it away from her with a sigh. She saw me smiling at her. She smiled back. A little of the tension had gone from her face. ”I'm full,” she said. ”What are you smiling at?”

I took her hands across the table. ”Hullo, sweetheart,” I said.

She held my hands and looked at them, I don't know why. They were funny hands no amount of manicuring could make look presentable. They were square and the fingers were short and covered with thick black hair on the back of them. She looked back at me. ”h.e.l.lo, Johnny.” Her voice was soft.

”How's muh baby?” I asked.

”Better since you're here.”

We just sat there smiling at each other until the waiter came and took the empty dishes away and brought us a fresh pot of coffee. It was half past twelve when we left the restaurant.

We drove over to Gordon's house. He lived over in Westwood; it was about a half-hour drive. The lights in his living room were on as we drove up the driveway.

He had the door open almost before we were up the steps. His hair was rumpled and he held a drink in one hand; he looked nervous. He was surprised to see Doris with me.

We said h.e.l.lo and followed him into the living room. Joan, his wife, was in there. She got up when she saw us. ”h.e.l.lo, Johnny,” she said to me, and then went over to Doris and kissed her. ”How is Peter?” she asked.

”A little better,” Doris answered. ”He's sleeping.”

”That's good,” Joan said. ”If you can get him to rest, he'll be all right.”

I spoke to Gordon. ”What's all the shootin' fer?”

He finished his drink and looked at Doris. Joan picked up the hint. ”Let's make some coffee. These men want to talk business,” she said.

Doris smiled understandingly at me and followed Joan out of the room.

I turned back to Gordon. ”Well?”

”The rumor's all over town that Ronsen's tying a can to you,” he said.

The two greatest products of Hollywood were pictures and rumors. From morning to night they manufactured pictures, from night to morning they manufactured rumors. There were several arguments as to which was the more important, but I don't believe it was ever settled to anyone's satisfaction.

”Tell me more,” I said.

”You had a fight with him in New York. He didn't want you to come back here to see Peter. You did. He got in touch with Stanley Farber the minute you left and he's flying out here tomorrow to meet him.”

”Is that all?” I asked.

”Isn't that enough?” he asked.

I grinned at him. ”I thought it was important.”

He was pouring himself another drink when I told him that. He almost dropped it. ”Look, I'm not joking, Johnny. This is d.a.m.ned serious. He hasn't kept Dave Roth on the lot for love.”

Gordon wasn't wrong about that. Dave was Farber's right-hand man, and Ronsen placed him on the lot as Gordon's a.s.sistant to act as a psychological threat to me. It added up too. Farber wouldn't let Roth stay there if he wasn't sure that something would come of it.

”What's Dave been doing?” I asked.

”You know Dave,” he answered, shrugging his shoulders. ”Tight as a clam when he wants to be. But he seems pretty d.a.m.n sure of himself.” He held out a drink to me.

I took it and sipped it reflectively. Maybe Ronsen was coming out to see Farber, but I was the guy that knew the whole organization. I knew the weak spots and the strong spots. I knew what had to be done, and until I finished the repair job, my position was good.

”Look, Gordon,” I said, ”stop worrying. I'll be at the studio in the morning and we'll go over the situation.”

He looked at me doubtfully. ”All right, but I hope you know what you're doing.”

Joan came into the room with a pot of coffee. Doris followed her with a tray of tiny sandwiches. Hollywood wives and diplomats' wives have to develop a sense of timing. They have to know just when to excuse themselves and just when to re-enter a room. I often wonder how they know just when to come back.

Doris and I were too full to eat, but we had some coffee and left. It was almost two thirty when we got to her house.

The house was quiet; only a small light was lit in the living room. Doris threw off her coat and went upstairs. She came down a moment later.

”He's still sleeping,” she said. ”Mother is too. The nurse told me that the doctor gave her a sedative. Poor thing, she just can't comprehend everything that's been happening. It's been one shock after another.”

I followed her into the library. There was a big fire going in there. It felt good; the night had turned cold, with a sudden frost that would have the smudge pots going in the fruit groves. We sat down on a couch.

I put my hand around her shoulder and drew her head toward me. I kissed her. She put both hands on my cheeks and held my face close to hers.

”I knew you'd come, Johnny,” she whispered.

I looked at her. ”I couldn't stay away even if I wanted to.”

She turned around and rested her head against my shoulder and we looked into the fire. After a little while I spoke. ”Feel like talking about it, sweetheart?”

<script>