Scene Stealer by Elise Warner Page B

fellow.” He chuckled and I joined in. His laugh was infectious.
    â€œMr. Bean, how did you become Kevin’s agent?”
    The phone rang, and Abner Bean picked it up on the first ring. “Abner T. Bean Agency,” he said. “Come by Tuesday between 12:00 and 2:00. Mr. Bean only sees actors on Tuesday between 12:00 and 2:00. No, you can’t. Mr. Bean only talks to actors on Tuesdays between 12:00 and 2:00. Take it or leave it.”
    Mr. Bean listened for a moment. “Same to you, fella.”
    He replaced the receiver. “Actors,” he complained. “They never stop. Now, where were we? You wanted to know how I became Kevin’s agent. Through Patti, they’re in the same class. Naturally I had to go and see my one and only grandchild in the school play. A charmer, my granddaughter, but to be honest, as an actress she’d starve to death. But Kevin, the kid’s a natural.
    â€œCowboy Bob’s was looking for family types for a commercial. A wide range of actors—fathers, mothers, grandparents, sisters, brothers, I submitted all different types. I signed Kevin to a contract and got him an audition. Sure enough he got the job…the only one of my clients who did. Nothing wrong with their readings, the sponsor changed his concept, decided to use cartoon characters instead of live actors. Kevin’s the only flesh-and-blood actor. They loved Kevin, at least I thought they did until Robert Barton started auditioning again. Cowboy Bob’s is his company. The publicity that guy’s getting. No heart. The guy has no heart. Dollar bills where his heart should be. Tough business, this, somebody always looks to brush you aside. Take your spot. He’s auditioning youngsters like he thinks the police won’t find Kevin. If they don’t he’ll probably have an open call Kids will be lined up for a block and the tabloids will give him more publicity.”
    Mr. Bean shuffled a stack of children’s photos. “I don’t think I can do it,” he said. “I submit other kids, it’s like giving up on Kevin. How could I face Patti?”
    Kevin had only been missing for two days when Bertram Barton began auditioning children; was he really doing it for publicity, or did he know something? I moved Bertram to the top of my list of suspects.
    The phone again interrupted our conversation. Another actor looking for an agent. Mr. Bean repeated his speech about Tuesdays then turned toward me.
    â€œMaybe you’d like to give up police work and become my secretary? The pay’s lousy, the hours are long, the aggravation’s constant and my last girl is in a lot of trouble. Yesterday she eloped with an actor. A bad one at that. You look like you’d know the difference.”
    The phone was insistent. Mr. Bean closed his eyes and massaged his forehead.
    â€œAbner T. Bean’s Theatrical Agency.” I answered the call this time. “No. Mr. Bean will see actors on Tuesdays between 12:00 and 2:00 p.m. He is not available at any other time. Thank you for calling.” My tone of voice convinced the actor who returned my thanks, told me to “Have a good day,” and hung up. There was a glint of admiration in Mr. Bean’s eyes.
    â€œDid many children audition for the commercial, Mr. Bean?”
    â€œSure. I submitted three children myself. Another boy. Too old for the part. Thirteen. Awkward age. Hard to get him work for the next couple of years. And Willow Leigh. She used to be my client.”
    â€œWillow Leigh? Should I be familiar with her work?”
    â€œBeautiful. Sixteen now, been doing commercials since she was in diapers. Willow had quite a few callbacks, in fact I thought she’d be a shoo-in for the commercial, but Kevin got the job. Willow’s mother threw a fit, she used to be a pretty big model herself, made the cover of Vogue, earned big bucks. Now she’s getting a little long in the tooth.