“Black Label. I splurged.”
“How’s it going for you?”
“It’s a dream, Hiram; don’t pinch me.”
Hiram laughed.
“That’s quite an old crate,” Vance said, nodding at the Rolls.
“Yes, it is, and it’s in perfect shape, or it will be when I finish this little job. You want to see something really special?”
“Sure.”
Beckoning for Vance to follow, Hiram walked over to a rear corner of the big garage, switched on the overhead lights and pulled a sheet of canvas off a car. “What do you think of that?” he asked.
Vance stared at the sleek black roadster. “My God,” he said, “is that a Mercedes SSK?”
“You bet it is.”
“I thought they were all destroyed in the war.”
“Not this one, though Clete Barrow tried hard enough.”
“This was Clete Barrow’s car?”
“Hasn’t Rick told you the story?”
“No, he hasn’t.”
Hiram climbed into the passenger seat and motioned for Vance to sit behind the wheel. “Well,” he said when they were settled, “this goes back to ’39. Rick Barron was a cop on the Beverly Hills police force at the time, and he had just been busted from detective to patrolman. He and his captain didn’t get along.”
“Why not?”
“I’ll let Rick tell you that part, but don’t ask him right out.”
“All right.”
“Anyway, late one night, he’s sitting at the corner of Sunset and Camden in his patrol car, and Clete Barrow, driving this car, came barreling down Sunset and made scrap metal out of an old Ford driven by a woman who had run the stop sign.
“The Mercedes spins across Sunset into a hedge, throwing Clete out. Rick runs over there, recognizes Clete, finds out he isn’t hurt much, checks on the woman, who, he says, was hamburger. Then he did something really smart: Clete gave him Eddie Harris’s home number, so instead of taking Clete to a hospital, where the cops and the press would have been all over him, he calls in another car to deal with the wreck and, after taking the plates and the registration off the Mercedes, calls Eddie and takes Clete to the studio.
“They get the famous Dr. Judson over here to check out Clete, and Eddie and Rick fall into conversation. Eddie likes him, and within seventy-two hours, Rick has a new job as head of security for the studio. The rest, as they say, is history.”
“And you fixed the car?”
“We had to order the parts from Germany, and they came in on the last German merchant ship before the war started. I worked on it in my spare time for two years, until I had it back in mint condition, as you see it. It hasn’t been driven since.”
“Why not?”
“Rick inherited the car when Clete was killed in the war, and I guess he’s never had the heart to use it.”
“Seems like a waste,” Vance said.
“Yeah, well. Maybe they’ll use it in a picture, or something.”
“What do you suppose it’s worth, Hiram?”
“Christ only knows. More than anything else in this barn, that’s for sure. More than a new Cadillac.”
Vance tried to imagine himself driving it.
“Well, I gotta get back to work, get this job done and get home. The little woman is saving supper for me.”
“Thanks for the look at the SSK,” Vance said.
“Thanks for the drink.”
Vance got back into the car, drove back to his cottage and heated up a can of chili con carne for dinner.
14
At breakfast the following morning, Glenna said, “Okay, I’ll do it.”
“Do what?”
“Don’t mess with me this early in the morning,” she said. “How much do I get paid?”
“Five hundred a week.”
“How much does Leo Goldman get paid?”
“None of your business. Glenna, I wasn’t kidding when I said that Leo can fire you, if you don’t do a good job.”
“I know you weren’t; you’re a hard man, mister.”
“Oh, and I guess so that the kids won’t die, you’d better bring Rosie along. And I won’t take her pay out of yours.”
“That’s mighty white of you.”
“I know it is; I wouldn’t do that for a producer who wasn’t my wife.”
Rick arrived at his office to find Leo Goldman, a large, bearlike, bullet-headed man in his late twenties, waiting for him. He had joined Centurion after slugging his boss at Metro. Eddie had thought his action was “admirable.” “Morning, Leo,” Rick said. “I’m glad you’re here; we’ve got things to talk about.”
“We sure have,” Leo said, following him into his office and taking a chair.
“Something on your mind?”
“I hear you went up to Jackson Hole this weekend to work on the picture.”
Rick immediately realized that he should have invited Leo, but it had never crossed his mind. “I’m sorry, Leo. I didn’t intend to leave you out of anything important. It was a weekend off, that’s all. We took the wives, but we did get a look at the locations Manny had picked out.”
“Manny decides on locations?”
“Manny finds them; the director decides.”
“Look, if you don’t want me on this picture, just say so. In fact, if you don’t want me at the studio, say so, and I’ll tear up my contract.”
“Listen to me, Leo,” Rick said. “If I didn’t want you on the picture or at the studio, you wouldn’t be here. Anyway, you were still cleaning up your last production over the weekend, weren’t you?”
“I could have shook loose.”
“Leo, I promise you that no decision was made over the weekend that is in any way going to impact on your job.”
“You’d better not ever do that.”
“Leo, I’ve apologized, and I’m not going to do it again, but don’t ever tell me I’d better not do something. I suggest you get a grip on yourself and start addressing what we’re going to do with this script.”
Leo took a deep breath and let it out. “All right, I had my say. Let’s go to work.”
“Good. Manny is still up there dealing with getting some war-surplus barracks put together. Call my father, Jack Barron, at Barron Flying Service, at Clover Field, and he’ll get you flown up there.”
“When do you want me to leave?”
“As soon as you can get a list of equipment and crew that will have to be trucked and bussed up there, and get them rolling. You’ll be there two or three days before they arrive, and Manny will work out some office space and transportation for you.” He gave Leo Manny’s phone number at the local saloon. “He’ll have some phone lines in for us in a few days. Also, set up a meeting here to finalize casting.”
“I hear we’ve already got a leading man.”
“That’s right. His name is Vance Calder, and he’s going to be very good. He has a three-picture deal with us.”
“I saw him out on the back lot doing stuff on horses. The guys out there are impressed; one of them told me Calder could win money at the rodeo.”
“He’d better not, or our insurance is blown. I’ll make sure he understands.”
“I’d like a trailer to work in, so I won’t be tied to a desk.”
“Good idea; get me one, too. Have you met my wife?”
“No, but of course, I’ve seen her pictures.”
“She’s coming up to Wyoming for the shoot, and I’ve hired her as an associate producer at five hundred a week; get that in the budget.”
“You told me I’d be single-card credited as associate producer.”
“You’ve been promoted. Now you’re executive in charge of production.”
“Well, I can’t argue with that, as long as the title describes what I do.”
“Leo, don’t push your luck. I’m still producer and director, and, in case you’ve forgotten, I’m head of all production for the studio, so you work for me.”