Wien?”
“Bernie loves everybody in the world. We were all friends, Chris. We all liked each other. I’m better friends with Mort than with the others, but I’m there for all of them. I’m sure Bernie feels the same way.” He paused.
“Ernie Greene is a medical researcher, spends his life with microbes. There are people alive today because of him. They don’t know it but I know it. I’ve always been grateful that there are people like Ernie who give their lives to the kind of work he does. He’s the human being behind the word cure . He has a good sense of humor, no ego at all, and more energy than I’ve ever seen in one person. I don’t think the word retire is part of his vocabulary. And before you ask, he probably didn’t care for Arthur Wien that much, but so what? Not every personality gets along with every other one. Ernie isn’t into hurting people.”
I was taking down phrases as he spoke and starting to wonder if this was such a good idea. Unless I found one man who had a grudge and was willing to be honest, most of what I would hear would be paeans to their friends.
“Do you know what it was that made Dr. Greene feel that way?”
“People are different. Artie’s lifestyle didn’t appeal to Ernie. Artie was too flamboyant for a man who spends his waking hours in a laboratory and probably dreams about his research when he sleeps.”
I nodded although I felt this was all rehearsed.
“You’ve met Mort. A man couldn’t ask for a better friend. He works hard, he has a good family, he has a greatsense of humor. I’ve probably laughed harder in his presence than anywhere else, but I’ve probably also spent more serious moments with him than with anyone else I know. And I wouldn’t take my body to any other doctor in the city of New York.”
I smiled.
“Bruce. You’ve probably heard about his troubles. Bruce is a good man who took the rap for someone else, I’m afraid. He doesn’t talk about it and I don’t think he ever will.”
“Did you represent him in court?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Did he ask you?”
He looked at me for the first time as though I were not a recording secretary but someone who might ask an interesting question. “He called me for advice and I recommended a couple of lawyers to him. This happened many years ago and I thought he needed someone with more experience than I had. He didn’t ask me to represent him, but that’s how I felt.”
“You said he took the rap for someone.”
“I don’t know who that person was.”
“Do you think he knows?”
“I think he does.”
“But you have suspicions.”
“I do, but they’re only suspicions, and I don’t think it would be right to say anything about them.”
Something had changed in him as he spoke. He sounded less rehearsed, less as though he were delivering a practiced monologue. He was talking now, not reciting.
“Thank you for being candid. What about the first row?”
“There isn’t much to say about the first row any more, is there? Fred Beller hasn’t shown up for years, Art’s dead,George is dead. That leaves Joe Meyer. Joe is a musician, a very fine one. He’s a good man. He’s not well but he keeps up the good fight. I hope he lives forever and makes music for the rest of his life.”
“What was his relationship with Arthur Wien?”
“Probably closer than that of any of the rest of us. I believe Joe and Artie used to get together. I think Joe and Judy went out to California a few times to visit the Wiens.”
“Then they were pretty good friends.”
“I’d say so.”
“What did you think of Arthur Wien?”
He leaned his head back and looked up at the ceiling. “Even when we were in high school,” he said, adjusting himself so that he now looked at me, “you knew Artie Wien was going to make it. There was something about him, a sense of direction, of purpose. He loved to write and he was good at it. We would put on skits for one thing or another and he would write
“Bernie loves everybody in the world. We were all friends, Chris. We all liked each other. I’m better friends with Mort than with the others, but I’m there for all of them. I’m sure Bernie feels the same way.” He paused.
“Ernie Greene is a medical researcher, spends his life with microbes. There are people alive today because of him. They don’t know it but I know it. I’ve always been grateful that there are people like Ernie who give their lives to the kind of work he does. He’s the human being behind the word cure . He has a good sense of humor, no ego at all, and more energy than I’ve ever seen in one person. I don’t think the word retire is part of his vocabulary. And before you ask, he probably didn’t care for Arthur Wien that much, but so what? Not every personality gets along with every other one. Ernie isn’t into hurting people.”
I was taking down phrases as he spoke and starting to wonder if this was such a good idea. Unless I found one man who had a grudge and was willing to be honest, most of what I would hear would be paeans to their friends.
“Do you know what it was that made Dr. Greene feel that way?”
“People are different. Artie’s lifestyle didn’t appeal to Ernie. Artie was too flamboyant for a man who spends his waking hours in a laboratory and probably dreams about his research when he sleeps.”
I nodded although I felt this was all rehearsed.
“You’ve met Mort. A man couldn’t ask for a better friend. He works hard, he has a good family, he has a greatsense of humor. I’ve probably laughed harder in his presence than anywhere else, but I’ve probably also spent more serious moments with him than with anyone else I know. And I wouldn’t take my body to any other doctor in the city of New York.”
I smiled.
“Bruce. You’ve probably heard about his troubles. Bruce is a good man who took the rap for someone else, I’m afraid. He doesn’t talk about it and I don’t think he ever will.”
“Did you represent him in court?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Did he ask you?”
He looked at me for the first time as though I were not a recording secretary but someone who might ask an interesting question. “He called me for advice and I recommended a couple of lawyers to him. This happened many years ago and I thought he needed someone with more experience than I had. He didn’t ask me to represent him, but that’s how I felt.”
“You said he took the rap for someone.”
“I don’t know who that person was.”
“Do you think he knows?”
“I think he does.”
“But you have suspicions.”
“I do, but they’re only suspicions, and I don’t think it would be right to say anything about them.”
Something had changed in him as he spoke. He sounded less rehearsed, less as though he were delivering a practiced monologue. He was talking now, not reciting.
“Thank you for being candid. What about the first row?”
“There isn’t much to say about the first row any more, is there? Fred Beller hasn’t shown up for years, Art’s dead,George is dead. That leaves Joe Meyer. Joe is a musician, a very fine one. He’s a good man. He’s not well but he keeps up the good fight. I hope he lives forever and makes music for the rest of his life.”
“What was his relationship with Arthur Wien?”
“Probably closer than that of any of the rest of us. I believe Joe and Artie used to get together. I think Joe and Judy went out to California a few times to visit the Wiens.”
“Then they were pretty good friends.”
“I’d say so.”
“What did you think of Arthur Wien?”
He leaned his head back and looked up at the ceiling. “Even when we were in high school,” he said, adjusting himself so that he now looked at me, “you knew Artie Wien was going to make it. There was something about him, a sense of direction, of purpose. He loved to write and he was good at it. We would put on skits for one thing or another and he would write
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