The Carpetbaggers

She nodded. "That's exactly what I'm doing. I play for two hours every morning."

"Where do you play?"

"Bel Air. I have a standing date with Frankie Gardner."

He raised an eyebrow. Frankie Gardner was one of the top tennis pros in the country. He was expensive – at least twenty-five dollars an hour. "Is he one of your customers?" he asked curiously.

"I don't play with my customers. It's bad for business. I buy his time like anybody else."

"Why?"

"I like the exercise," she said. "It helps me keep in shape. You know by now that sometimes I put in some pretty long hours."

"I see what you mean. Have you ever thought about doing anything else?"

"What do you mean?" she asked. "I told you I studied nursing."

"I don't mean that. How come you never tried the movies?"

She laughed merrily. "I'm a native Californian, Mr. Bonner. I've seen what happens to the kids that come out here. Better-looking than I ever was. They wind up as car hops, hustling hamburgers, or five-dollar whores working the Strip. I know better."

"I mean it," he said earnestly. "Do you know who I am?"

"Of course, Mr. Bonner. I read the papers. You're one of the biggest producers in Hollywood."

"So maybe I know what I'm talking about, eh?"

"Maybe you do." She smiled. "But I know myself and I'm no actress."

"That wasn't what you said last night."

"That's something else," she said. "That's my business. Besides, you see the way I live. It would be a long time before I could earn a grand a week in pictures."

"How do you know? We've had a script around for five years that we haven't been able to find a lead for. It was written for Rina Marlowe. I think you could do it."

"You're crazy!" She laughed. "Rina Marlowe was one of the most beautiful women on the screen. I couldn't hold a candle to her."

He was suddenly serious. "There are things about you that remind me of her."

"Could be," she said. "I hear she was pretty wild."

"That, too," he said, leaning toward her. "But that isn't what I'm talking about. Come down to the studio tomorrow and I’ll set up a screen test. If it doesn't work, we forget about it. If it does – well, there's just one man's approval I need and you're good for two grand a week."

"Two grand?" She stared at him. "You're joking."

He shook his head. "I don't joke about money."

"Neither do I," she said seriously. "Who is this man whose approval you'd need?"

"Jonas Cord."

"We might as well forget about it," she said. "From all I heard around town from some of the girls, he's a real nut."

15

Irving followed David into the living room as Rosa began to clear the dishes. "I never saw her looking so good," he said, stretching out in a chair in front of the fire.

David nodded absently. "Yeah."

Irving looked at him. "You got something on your mind, Davy?"

"The usual things," David said evasively.

"That ain't the way I hear it."

Something in his voice made David tense. "What do you hear?"

"The word is out they're giving your boy the squeeze," Irving said in a low voice.

"What else do you hear?"

"The new crowd wants to make you top dog if you throw in with them," Irving said. "They're also saying that Bonner has sold out to them already."

David was silent. He couldn't believe that Jonas didn't know about what was happening. But it was possible.

"You ain't talking, Davy," Irving said quietly. "You didn't bring me out here for nothing."

"How did you find out?"

Irving shrugged his shoulders. "We got stock," he said casually. "Some of the boys called up and told me that their brokers were contacted. They want to know what we should do."

"How much stock?"

"Oh, eighty, ninety thousand shares around the country. We figured it would be a good deal the way you were running things."

"Have you- " David corrected himself. "Have the boys made up their minds yet which way they're going?" That stock could be important. It was over three per cent of the two and a half million shares outstanding.

"No, we're pretty conservative," Irving said. "We like to go where the money is. And they been making it sound real pretty. Complete financing, doubling the profits, maybe even splitting the stock in a couple of years."

David nodded. He reached for a cigarette thoughtfully. It hung in his lips unlit. Why hadn't Jonas replied to his messages? Three times he'd tried to locate him and each time there had been no reply. Surely he must know by now. The last place he checked had sent word that Jonas was out of the country. If that was true, the whole thing would be a fait accompli by the time he returned.

"What are you going to do, Davy?" Irving asked softly.

"I don't know," he said. "I don't know what to do."

"You can't ride the fence much longer, chum," Irving said. "There's no way on earth to live with the loser."

"I know." David nodded. He finally struck a match and held it to his cigarette. "But it's like this. I know Cord doesn't pay much attention to us, maybe sometimes he even holds us back a little. But I also know he can make a picture, he's got a real feel for this business. That's why he bought in. It's not just all cold ass like it is with Sheffield and the others. Plain banker-and-broker arithmetic and to hell with everything except the profit-and-loss statement and balance sheet."

"But the bankers and brokers hold all the cards," Irving said. "Only a fool bucks the house."

"Yeah," David said almost savagely, grinding out his cigarette.

Irving was silent for a moment, then he smiled. "Tell you what, Davy. I’ll get all our proxies together and deliver 'em to you. When you decide what's best, vote 'em for us."

David stared at him. "You'd do that?"

Irving laughed. "The way I see it, I got no choice. Didn't you haul that alky for us from Shocky's garage?"

"Here comes the coffee," Rosa announced, carrying in a tray. "Jesus!" Irving exclaimed. "Lookit that choc'late layer cake."

Rosa laughed in a pleased voice. "I baked it myself."

Irving leaned back against the couch. "Oh, Doctor!" he said, looking at Rosa and rolling his eyes.

"Another piece?"

"I had three already. Another and you'll have to do a plastic job on my stomach to get me back in shape."

"Better have some more coffee, then," she said, refilling his cup. She began to gather up the cake plates.

"I meant to ask you, Davy," Irving said. "You ever hear of a broad named Jennie Denton?"

"Jennie Denton?" David shook his head. "No."

"I forgot," Irving said, glancing up at Rosa. "You been out of circulation."

"What about her?" Rosa asked. "I knew a Jennie Denton."

"You did? Where did you know her, Doc?"

"At the hospital. Four years ago there was a nurse there by that name."

"About five six, dark eyes, long, light-brown hair, good figure and an interesting way of walking?"

Rosa laughed. "Sexy, you mean?"

Irving nodded. "Yeah, that's what I mean."

"Sounds like the same girl," Rosa said.

"What about her?" David asked.

"Well, Jennie is probably the most expensive hooker in L.A. She has her own six-room house in the hills and you want to see her, it's by appointment only and you go there. She won't walk into a hotel room. She's got a real exclusive list and you want a date, you got to wait maybe two, three weeks. She only works a five-day week."

"If you're recommending her to my husband," Rosa interrupted, smiling, "you'd better stop right there."

Irving smiled. "Well, it seems one night, earlier this week, Maurice Bonner went there and she gave him the full treatment. So, nothing will do the next day but he has Jennie down to the studio for a screen test. He shoots her in color, some scenes from some old script he's got laying around. While he's at it, he decides to make it real good. He dresses her in a white silk sheet. It's supposed to be a baptism scene and when she comes up out of the water in the big tank on Stage Twelve, you can see everything she's got. In two days, that test becomes the biggest picture on the home circuit. Bonner's got more requests for it than Selznick's got for Gone With the Wind!"