The McBain Brief by Ed McBain Page A

to return his call right away. When I got back offthe road, it must have been three or four o’clock in the afternoon. I called him up, and he said he wanted to meet me for a drink before we began shooting that night. I thought for a minute that maybe Ben had forgotten to send him his twenty-five dollar check, and I asked Harry if that was the problem, but he said, “No, no, I got the check, it’s something else.” So I agreed to meet him at a bar near the loft, though to tell the truth I wasn’t too anxious to talk to him. We were supposed to shoot a very delicate scene that night in which The Director and The Girl experiment with a great many interesting and artistic approaches to exploring personalities through sexual experience, and I wanted to prepare myself for it by taking a little nap before I reported for work.
    Harry was already sitting at a table when I came in. I walked over, pulled out a chair and sat down. He stared at me for a long time, the dope.
    â€œI can guess what the problem is,” I said. “You’re wondering when you’ll be back in the movie again. Well, I’m happy to tell you it’s going along splendidly, and it’ll seem like no time at all till we shoot that big wedding scene.”
    I smiled at him. He was still staring at me.
    â€œThat’s not what I want to talk about,” he said.
    â€œWhat do you want to talk about?”
    â€œThere is no film in the camera,” he said.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œThere has never been any film in the camera.”
    â€œThat’s ridiculous,” I said. “Who told you that?”
    â€œI found out for myself.”
    â€œHow did you find out?” I said. “And besides, it’s a lie.”
    â€œIt’s not a lie,” Harry said. “Do you remember going out forhamburgers last night at two in the morning? Do you remember that?”
    â€œI remember it.”
    â€œI sneaked into the loft.”
    â€œYou didn’t sneak into the loft. We locked the door behind us.”
    â€œI went up the fire escape and in through the window. There was no film in that camera.”
    â€œThat’s because we were finished for the night. Ben had already unloaded.”
    â€œYou were not finished for the night. You came back to the loft at precisely three-ten a.m.”
    â€œAt which time Ben probably re loaded the camera.”
    â€œThere was no film any place in the loft. I looked all over the loft. There was no film. None. Now I understand why Ben always went into the bathroom to reload. You are not shooting a movie there,” Harry said.
    â€œOf course we’re shooting a movie.”
    â€œYou are paying a girl fifty dollars a week so that the three of you can indulge whatever bizarre sexual fantasies you have, sometimes seven and eight hours a night, every day of the week including Saturdays and Sundays.”
    â€œWe are doing nothing of the sort.”
    â€œThat’s just what you’re doing,” Harry said. “You are treating that girl like a common streetwalker, except that you’d have to pay a streetwalker more than you’re paying her. It’s obscene,” Harry said.
    â€œHarry,” I said, “don’t be a dope.”
    â€œI am not a dope,” he said, “I happen to be a very highly regarded insurance adjuster. And anyway, I wanted to see you today only to tell you it’s finished.”
    â€œWhat’s finished?”
    â€œThe picture’s finished, the whole set-up is finished. I’ve already discussed it with her, and she’s quitting. In fact, she’s already quit.”
    â€œYou’ve discussed it with the girl?”
    â€œI’ve been seeing her regularly. I’ve been seeing her every day. She told me what was going on, and that was when I got suspicious and decided to check up.”
    â€œHarry,” I said, “don’t be a dope. If that’s what you suspect . . . if