Beverly Hills Dead

52

Rick Barron sat at a table with the two stars and the director of Greenwich Village Girl and listened to the first read-through of the script. As the picture’s producer he was entitled to sit in, but Rick had another reason: he wanted to find out how a director made a script funny or, at least, revealed the humor already there.

Sam Sparrow, the director, had a very simple technique. When the first read-through was done, he said to his two actors, “All right. Let’s do it again but faster, and as the script progresses and the two characters begin to argue and snipe at each other, I want you to play it very fast. In fact, I want you to step on each other’s lines. Got it?”

The two actors nodded, and Rick sat back and tried to see it on the screen. Pretty soon he was laughing, and soon after that he nearly had to leave the room, because he was laughing so hard. By the time they had finished, the director was laughing, too.

Rick stood up. “Well, thanks for the entertainment, folks,” he said. “I’m obviously not needed here, so I think I’ll go and scare up some work for myself.” Sparrow looked pleased. As Rick left the building and started to walk toward his office he remembered that, although Hattie Carson was reading from her script most of the time, Vance Calder had never once looked at his and not once had he blown a line. Where had he learned to do that?

Rick looked up as Tom Terry drove up to him in an electric cart. “Can I give you a lift, Rick?”

“Sure, Tom.” Rick got into the cart.

“I’ve got some news for you.”

“What about?”

“About the Communist Party cards you got in the mail. And it comes from our old friend, Hal Schmidt.”

“Tell me.”

Rick listened as Tom ran through the story of how Murray Fox had gotten hold of the two cards and mailed them.

“Who did he mail them to?”

“I don’t know,” Tom replied. “Fox wouldn’t tell him, but Schmidt said he wouldn’t be surprised if Fox had done the same with other cards mailed to other studios.”

“You think we have any chance of finding out who got the cards at Centurion, then sent them to me?”

“Frankly, no. I mean, what we’ve got came from a source inside the party, and we were very lucky to have that source. If he can’t find out, I don’t think we can find out without him.”

“Well, I guess this is one we should just put behind us,” Rick said. “After all, Sid Brooks has already been publicly humiliated, and you’ve destroyed any record of Glenna at the Milwaukee party office, so it seems unlikely that any further harm can be done.”

“That’s the way I look at it, Rick. Just forget about it.”

Tom stopped the cart at the door of the main building, and Rick got out. “By the way, Tom, did you see the story by Hedda Hopper in the paper yesterday?”

“Yeah, and there was another one this morning.”

“What did that one say?”

“Apparently Hank Harmon fled her apartment ahead of the press and moved in with a friend out in the valley, but they caught up with her there, too.”

“With what result?”

“No result; she refused to come to the door. They’ve got her pretty well staked out, though, I would imagine.”

“Tom, did you give Hedda the first story about Harmon?”

“No, Rick. I didn’t.”

“What’s your best guess as to where it came from?”

“My best guess? From the LAPD, although somebody at RKO would run a close second. It may be that the studio wanted people to know that they’d fired Hank, but they didn’t want to make any kind of official statement.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Rick said. “Thanks for the lift, Tom.”

Tom waved good-bye and started back toward his office. As he drove along, a big, black Packard pulled alongside him.

“Hey, Mr. Terry!” the driver yelled.

Tom looked over at the man. “Morning.”

“Remember me?”

Tom stopped and looked closer. “Oh, yeah. You’re the studio driver I met at Vance Calder’s house; you’re the one who was supposed to drive Susan Stafford to the airport, right?”

“That’s right. I was just wondering if anything new had come up in the investigation. I mean, I saw the stuff in the papers about the script girl at RKO, but I wondered if there was anything else.”

“It’s Jerry, right?”

“That’s right.”

“No, Jerry. Nothing new at all, and believe me, I’ve been keeping tabs on the investigation. I think that, short of a confession from Hank Harmon, the police are not going to get any further.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks a lot, and take care.”

The Packard pulled away, and Tom started for his office again.