“It’s a great country,” Lasner said.
“And may I ask your religion?”
Lasner glared back at one of the lawyers, a can-he-ask-this? expression. “I don’t practice a religion,” he said.
“But you believe in God, I hope. Your parents, then. What religion were they?”
Lasner looked at him steadily for a minute, an assessment. “Hebrew.”
“Hebrew.”
“That’s right. Why do you ask?”
Minot leaned forward, as if he hadn’t heard. “What?”
“Why do you ask? Is this strictly a curiosity question or are you saying-”
“I’m not saying anything, Mr. Lasner, just trying to establish your background for the committee.
“I thought we were here to discuss Communists.”
One of the lawyers touched his back, the way you pat a horse to slow down.
“Indeed we are. Now if you don’t mind, let me ask the questions.”
“I don’t mind. That’s what you’re here for. But maybe I can save us both some time. You’re a busy man. So am I. I didn’t know Milt Schaeffer was a Communist when we hired him for Convoy. As a matter of fact, from what we heard here yesterday, he wasn’t, so I’m not sure what this is about.”
“He had been, Mr. Lasner. I’m sure you remember that testimony, too.”
“You mean it’s like having diabetes-once you get it, it never goes away?”
There was some laughter at this and Minot tried to ride with it.
“Mr. Lasner is known for being a colorful figure in the industry,” he said to the audience, then looked back to the witness table. “But I know he agrees these are serious matters. You say you didn’t know Mr. Schaeffer had been a member of the Communist Party. But you did hire him to direct a Russian-themed picture, is that correct?”
“It wasn’t about Russia when we hired him. That came later.”
“Why did you hire him, then?”
“He was available and he works fast. We had a deadline. You hire somebody like Wyler, we’d still be on the convoy.”
This brought enough laughter to make Minot bang his gavel.
“Mr. Lasner,” he said, wearily.
“All right. Why? He knows his way around a set. I liked his work. And I like him.” He turned his head slightly toward the row where Schaeffer was still sitting. Behind Lasner, the lawyers huddled.
“There were no political considerations, then?”
“What political considerations? It was a picture.”
“Now, Mr. Lasner,” Minot said, switching tack, “you may not think about politics, but Continental’s a big place. I don’t imagine you do everything yourself. Who exactly decided to hire Mr. Schaeffer? The line producer, wouldn’t it be?”
“A thing like that, it stops with me. It doesn’t matter who the line producer was. You think I wouldn’t know? You’re just trying to get me to say-”
“Mr. Lasner, I’m not trying to get you to do anything but answer the question.”
“No, you’re saying I didn’t know what was going on in my own studio. A bunch of Commies come in and pull a fast one, that’s where you’re going with this. Well, nobody pulled anything. Nobody was a Communist. Not that I knew of. Milt, I don’t know, he says ‘no’ under oath, I believe him. You make a big deal he requests Hal. Everybody requests Hal. He’s the best cutter in the business, something you’d know if-” He stopped, hearing himself, but only for a second, rushing now. “And Gus Pollock, you try to bring him in, make it seem-”
“Mr. Lasner.”
“Wait a minute.” He took up one of his papers with notes. “Passed away, you said. I hope it was just a mistake, your staff didn’t tell you how. Gus came home in a box. A Silver Star. You think he was working against this country? But you don’t mention that. And what’s all this business with Hal’s sister? We’re after the steno pool now?”
Minot banged his gavel again. “Mr. Lasner, you’re out of order.”
“I’m out of order?”
One of the lawyers rushed up to Lasner’s table, signaling at the same time to Minot, whose head had swiveled upward, as if he were literally scenting a change in the air. One of the cameras had moved closer, its motor drowned by the buzzing in the public section. Minot nodded to the lawyer.
“The witness’s counsel is requesting a recess.”
“We don’t need a recess,” Lasner said, his voice louder. “Let’s get this over with.”
Minot banged again. “We’ll recess for ten minutes.” He turned to the rest of the committee, who looked disoriented by the unexpected outburst, and shuffled some papers for the camera.
Sol’s table was now surrounded by lawyers, blocking him from sight. “Are you crazy?” one lawyer said.
“He’s an anti-Semite,” Lasner said, still boiling. “You think I don’t know when I see it? I know it like air.”
“So what?”
“So what?” He stared at the lawyer.
“You never met an anti-Semite before? Had to deal with one?”
“All my life. I never elected one.”
“You didn’t elect this one, either. Now listen to me-”
Sol held up his hand. “I’m listening to you. Are you listening to him? You don’t want to put a stop to this?”
“That’s not up to us.”
“Who is it up to, then?”
“Fay, talk to him.”
Fay put a hand on his shoulder. “You all right?”
“I’m great.”
She made a half smile. “I know. You’re enjoying yourself.”
“Gus Pollock, for chrissake. Comes home in a box.”
“Fay,” the lawyer said again.
“What can I tell you? He’s a grown man. Am I his mother? If you ask me, they’re with him,” she said, pointing to the public section.
“There’s a way to do this,” the lawyer said.
“What way?” Lasner said. “Wait for somebody else?” He looked at Ben. “You’re the one who showed me. What happened. We’re making a goddam picture, what happens everybody waits. Who did he bring down here? The country club? No, a Jew business. I know,” he said, catching Ben’s expression, “it’s not the same. But how different? You tell me. What? Wait for somebody else?”
Ben looked at him, then glanced quickly over to the press section, everyone standing and talking but Ostermann, who sat still, his eyes on the witness table, seeing something new.
“Not if you can do it,” Ben said finally.
“Ha.”
“Why do you say that?” the lawyer said.
“You don’t have to ask me,” Ben said to Lasner. “You’re going to do it anyway.” He paused. “He can hurt the studio.”
“More?” Lasner said. He turned to Fay. “How many times I worried about that before? It doesn’t change.”
“Neither do you. You think it’s still Gower Gulch.”
“Where do you think he gets all this from,” Lasner said, sweeping his hand to take in the room. “Pictures. He doesn’t even know where he gets it, but it’s pictures.” He looked at Ben. “I know pictures.”
“Then fight him with that,” Ben said.
When they resumed Minot was sitting up straight, the papers in front of him stacked, everything back in control.
“Mr. Lasner, have you had enough time with counsel?”
“Yes, sir. Thank you.”
Minot looked up at this, but played along. “Good. Now if we can continue.”
“Certainly. But first I’d like to apologize if I expressed myself-”
“No apologies necessary, Mr. Lasner.”
“It’s just that I appreciate the importance of these hearings and I didn’t want you to waste your time on-”
“We’re not wasting time, Mr. Lasner.”
“On Convoy. I mean, for all the people saw it, it wouldn’t have done the Russians much good anyway.”
“It was my understanding the movie was a success.”
“Well, that depends on whose accountants you talk to.”
There was an amused murmur, everyone in the press section now following closely.
Minot referred to a paper. “Mine said fifty thousand net.”
“With second release,” Lasner said smoothly. “Yeah, we made our costs back, I’m not saying that, but wartime that’s not hard to do. Everything gets an audience.”
“The military audience, you mean,” Minot said, not even aware he was following Lasner.
“Overseas? They get it free. Part of the war effort. The industry paid for the prints, those pictures you used to see,” he said, Minot suddenly a GI again, young. “The boys, we didn’t make a dime on them. Wouldn’t. Your gross was in the home market.”