“No, we have some things to do here,” he said. “Did his mother give any instructions?”
“She said, whatever you decide.”
“Did she. The navy blue, then, I think. The worsted. Not the uniform. Where did you put his ties?” He turned to Ben. “We’ll be a while.”
“But how will you get back?”
“I’ll have the studio send a car,” he said, in charge again. “It doesn’t really matter now. If anyone knows.” He stopped, glancing at Ben. “Still. It’s nobody’s business.”
Ben met his eyes. “Nobody’s,” he said.
He started back down to the coast highway but had to pull over at the second curve, unable to see through a new bank of thick fog. He felt back in the hospital room, everything white, gauze and empty sheets, Bunny standing in a void. But this white was moist air, beginning to drift, the other had been still, an absence. The dead are gone. And yet we hold on-a loyalty, a debt, to make up for something. Didn’t he owe Danny that much, to let it die with him, a crime that could only bring shame now. Paid for. But who had decided that? What do we owe the dead? Dress the body, the blue worsted, keep the memory intact. What did he owe Henderson, willing to use him as bait? There were all kinds of debts, even, finally, one to yourself. Do the expedient thing. Or the crime would go on, maybe taking him with it. Danny’s name was a price, but the dead never blamed you.
He sat for a few more minutes, trying to think. The list wasn’t supposed to stop at Danny’s mailbox. But nobody had moved yet, playing safe. He had to make them come for it. Something public, a spotlight they’d have to put out. Another car was coming up the hill, grinding slowly around the curves, the sound muffled, a little like the newsreel cameras. For a second he was back in the hearing room and then he was looking across to the press section, Ostermann watching quietly and Polly scribbling beside him.
He found Lasner with the lawyers finishing lunch at Ristorante Rex, the kind of place where they usually brought clients to celebrate deals, all black enamel and art deco ocean-liner trim. Today the mood was anxious, Lasner fidgeting, impatient.
“Where’s Bunny?” he said when Ben took a seat.
“Something came up.”
“Serious?”
Ben shook his head, knowing Lasner meant a studio problem. “He’ll be here later,” he said vaguely.
“So will we, by the looks of it,” Lasner said, glancing at his watch. “The goyim like a long lunch.”
“You should eat something yourself,” Fay said.
“Talking to Hal like that. He’s a Commie, his sister’s a Commie. Hal. He couldn’t wipe Hal’s shoes.”
“Nobody cares about Hal,” one of the lawyers said, an attempt to smooth things over.
“I care about him,” Lasner said.
“I didn’t mean that. I just meant he won’t be that way with you. He’ll want to play it friendly.”
“While he’s stabbing me in the back.”
“Where?” Fay said, running her hand over it, a calming smile.
“You hit the studio, you hit me. I built the studio.”
“He’s not hitting the studio, Sol,” the lawyer said patiently. “I told you. He’s making some noise. In a day or two, he’ll take it somewhere else.”
“Already we’re getting calls from the exhibitors. What’s going on? Why all these people from Continental? You know we depend-we don’t have our own theaters.”
“Well, neither will anybody else, the way things are going,” the lawyer said.
“They get nervous, we’re the first people they say no to. They’re going to fuck Mayer?”
“Some language. That’ll sound wonderful in there,” Fay said.
“He sends Eddie Mannix,” Sol said, ignoring her. “All the sudden they’re booking musicals again.” He paused. “You know how long I know Hal? His father was cutting for Sennett. Sennett, for chrissake, before that nose wipe was even thought of.”
“Well, they’re thinking of him now,” the lawyer said. “And listening, so let’s all just take it easy. You know what to do.”
“Yeah, I know,” Lasner said, still with a hint of defiance, but Ben could hear the nervous tremor under the bravado, as wary as anyone brought before a judge. “I never knew Milt Schaeffer was a Red. I’m as surprised as anybody. I would never have hired him. Continental doesn’t hire Reds. We’re certainly going to be more careful from now on. Thanks to you, Congressman. You want to see me hit my marks, too?”
They took studio cars the few blocks back.
“What’s with Bunny?” Lasner asked Ben.
“A little fire to put out. You know.”
“Everything’s a crisis with him. Sometimes you have to step back. See the whole thing.”
“That’s what you should do, step back,” Fay said. “You’re getting all excited.”
“You see Hal’s face?” he said quietly. “Why would you do that to him? Guy like that. You know him,” he said to Ben. “He try to sign you up for the Party? Labor agitator yet. Where? Fort Roach? You see the way he looked?”
The car pulled up to the curb.
“There’s Polly,” Ben said. “I’ll meet you inside.”
“That bitch,” Lasner said.
“Wonderful,” Fay said. “Be sure to say that when you’re on.”
Polly was surprised, then skeptical. “What kind of drink?”
“To talk. I have something for you.”
“What, something you tried to peddle to Ken? You’re not exactly flavor of the week there.”
“He didn’t level with me. He’s not leveling with you, either.”
She looked up at this, caught, suspicion part of the air she breathed. “What do you mean?”
“Six thirty?”
She hesitated for a minute, then started to turn. “Don’t waste my time. I’m not Ken. I’ve been doing this a lot of years. You have something for the column, call my assistant. It doesn’t check out, don’t call twice. I don’t just print things, they have to check out. Then we’ll see.”
“Not for the column. The news page.”
“Really. Just for me. And to what do I owe the favor?”
“I want something from you.”
“I’ll bet.”
“It’ll be worth it. One drink. You’ll want to hear it.”
“What did you mean about Ken?”
“That’s what we’re going to talk about.”
“He’s a friend of mine.”
“Polly.”
She looked at him. “What’s this all about?”
“Six thirty. You pick the place. You don’t want the story, at least you get the drink. I could give it to Kelly but I figure you could make a bigger noise. A hundred twenty-three papers.”
“A hundred twenty-seven.”
“On the other hand, he could use a break. He’s lucky he’s still got a job there, working for you on the sly. Not very nice of you.”
She narrowed her eyes, enjoying this. “Well, I’m not. Very nice.”
“That’s why I thought of you.”
Lasner was already seated at the witness table when Ben got to the hearing room. This time the lawyers sat behind, not flanking him, a subtle shift to suggest that he wasn’t on trial, as Schaeffer had been, just there for a friendly exchange. Minot started with a formal appreciation for Lasner’s giving up his valuable time to help the committee, implying that he’d offered to come, no subpoenas necessary. The approach was courteous, Minot’s way of signaling to the other studio heads what to expect, his conciliatory tone something their people would notice and report back. Nobody was out to get anybody-they were, after all, on the same side.
“Now, Mr. Lasner, you are the president of Continental Pictures. How long have you held that title?”
“Since nineteen fifteen. I started the company.”
