executrix. I looked at Candy. She wasn’t looking at me. She was looking hard at Zeke. Zeke looked at his chronograph. He looked at Candy.
“Go ahead without me, Mary Jane, I can’t leave right now.”
One point for old Zeke.
“Want us to reschedule?” the executrix said.
Zeke shook his head and made a slight dismissal gesture with the first three fingers of his right hand.
“I’ll give you a file memo of my reaction, Zeke,” she said, and pulled her head out of the room. Zeke unclasped his hands and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.
“I’m ass-deep in file memos from Mary Jane,” he said.
“She got lockjaw?” I asked.
“No,” Zeke said. “She went to Smith.”
“What about Summit Studios, Zeke?” Candy said.
He nodded at the door. “Could you close that for me,” he said. I got up and closed it.
“And Roger Hammond,” Zeke said when the door was closed.
Candy nodded.
“I have heard,” Zeke said, “that Hammond got into a lot of fiscal difficulty about five years ago and that somebody in a West Coast Mob family bailed him out.”
“Who was the mobster?”
“I don’t know.”
“Personal or business?” Candy said.
“Business. I heard he mismanaged the studio into an economic pit. He had a lot of money out that did not return investment. He bought a lot of bad properties, packaged them wrong, and they bombed. He couldn’t get the product into the theaters after a while. So then I heard he started embezzling from the profitable releases to cover the losses on the bombs, and he started juggling books so that his bosses wouldn’t know how bad it was.”
“His bosses are who?” Candy said.
“Oceania Limited: Petroleum, Timber, Mineral Processing, and Moviemaking.” Zeke shook his head and made the kind of mouth movement you make when you’ve gotten ashes on your tongue.
“Oceania catch on?” I said. Candy looked at me and frowned. “Oops,” I said. “Am I in your space?” Candy shook her head in small annoyance looked at Zeke.
“Did they?” she said.
“Catch on?” He shrugged. “Hammond is still there.”
“Because he got money from a mobster to cover the losses?”
Zeke nodded. “That’s what I hear.”
“What did the mobster get?” Candy said.
“I don’t know,” Zeke said. “It’s not the kind of thing I want to know too much about. What I hear about mobsters they must have got something.”
“They got Hammond,” I said.
“What do you mean `got‘?” Candy said.
“Like Mephistopheles `got‘ Faust,” I said. “But they won’t wait to collect.”
“Why are you so sure?” Candy said.
“It’s too easy. They bail him out and now they own him, and they’re in the movie business and he fronts it. Dirty money goes in, clean money comes out.”
“You think the Mob controls Summit Pictures?” Candy said.
“If what Zeke hears is right, I can almost promise you,” I said.
Candy looked at Zeke. “What do you think?” she said.
He shrugged. “He’d know more about that than I would, I think.”
Candy looked back at me. “It makes sense, doesn’t it.”
I nodded.
Zeke said, “I will deny ever saying anything about this, Candy.”
“You won’t have to,” Candy said. “I’ll never mention you. You can trust me.”
He nodded. “There’s no one else I would have talked to,” he said.
“It would be nice to believe that, Zeke,” she said. ‘ They looked silently at each other for a while and I looked out the window. Then Candy said, “Thank you, Zeke,” and we got up and left.
Chapter 9
“I WANT TO go to dinner,” Candy said, “and I want you to escort me.”
“I’ll risk that,” I said.
We went to The Palm on Santa Monica. The walls were covered with clumsy murals of show-biz celebrities in caricature. But my plate was covered with medium-rare butterflied lamb chops and asparagus with hollandaise.
I drank a little beer. “You have a plan?” I said.
“Keep talking and
“Go ahead without me, Mary Jane, I can’t leave right now.”
One point for old Zeke.
“Want us to reschedule?” the executrix said.
Zeke shook his head and made a slight dismissal gesture with the first three fingers of his right hand.
“I’ll give you a file memo of my reaction, Zeke,” she said, and pulled her head out of the room. Zeke unclasped his hands and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.
“I’m ass-deep in file memos from Mary Jane,” he said.
“She got lockjaw?” I asked.
“No,” Zeke said. “She went to Smith.”
“What about Summit Studios, Zeke?” Candy said.
He nodded at the door. “Could you close that for me,” he said. I got up and closed it.
“And Roger Hammond,” Zeke said when the door was closed.
Candy nodded.
“I have heard,” Zeke said, “that Hammond got into a lot of fiscal difficulty about five years ago and that somebody in a West Coast Mob family bailed him out.”
“Who was the mobster?”
“I don’t know.”
“Personal or business?” Candy said.
“Business. I heard he mismanaged the studio into an economic pit. He had a lot of money out that did not return investment. He bought a lot of bad properties, packaged them wrong, and they bombed. He couldn’t get the product into the theaters after a while. So then I heard he started embezzling from the profitable releases to cover the losses on the bombs, and he started juggling books so that his bosses wouldn’t know how bad it was.”
“His bosses are who?” Candy said.
“Oceania Limited: Petroleum, Timber, Mineral Processing, and Moviemaking.” Zeke shook his head and made the kind of mouth movement you make when you’ve gotten ashes on your tongue.
“Oceania catch on?” I said. Candy looked at me and frowned. “Oops,” I said. “Am I in your space?” Candy shook her head in small annoyance looked at Zeke.
“Did they?” she said.
“Catch on?” He shrugged. “Hammond is still there.”
“Because he got money from a mobster to cover the losses?”
Zeke nodded. “That’s what I hear.”
“What did the mobster get?” Candy said.
“I don’t know,” Zeke said. “It’s not the kind of thing I want to know too much about. What I hear about mobsters they must have got something.”
“They got Hammond,” I said.
“What do you mean `got‘?” Candy said.
“Like Mephistopheles `got‘ Faust,” I said. “But they won’t wait to collect.”
“Why are you so sure?” Candy said.
“It’s too easy. They bail him out and now they own him, and they’re in the movie business and he fronts it. Dirty money goes in, clean money comes out.”
“You think the Mob controls Summit Pictures?” Candy said.
“If what Zeke hears is right, I can almost promise you,” I said.
Candy looked at Zeke. “What do you think?” she said.
He shrugged. “He’d know more about that than I would, I think.”
Candy looked back at me. “It makes sense, doesn’t it.”
I nodded.
Zeke said, “I will deny ever saying anything about this, Candy.”
“You won’t have to,” Candy said. “I’ll never mention you. You can trust me.”
He nodded. “There’s no one else I would have talked to,” he said.
“It would be nice to believe that, Zeke,” she said. ‘ They looked silently at each other for a while and I looked out the window. Then Candy said, “Thank you, Zeke,” and we got up and left.
Chapter 9
“I WANT TO go to dinner,” Candy said, “and I want you to escort me.”
“I’ll risk that,” I said.
We went to The Palm on Santa Monica. The walls were covered with clumsy murals of show-biz celebrities in caricature. But my plate was covered with medium-rare butterflied lamb chops and asparagus with hollandaise.
I drank a little beer. “You have a plan?” I said.
“Keep talking and
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