"Aren't you fellows cold out here?" Stern asked.
"No," Arthur said. "And on Friday, you told me she wanted to do it, and it was now a matter of negotiation."
"That's right."
"This is Monday," Arthur said.
"You know Hester."
"No, I don't know Hester."
"She's not sure now."
"If she was sure Friday…"
"We don't even know if she was sure Friday. We only know what her agent told us."
"Her agent said she wanted to do the play, isn't that right?"
"And that she was ready to negotiate."
"That's right."
"Well, has an offer been made?"
"She's getting a thousand a week at Lincoln Center, that's whether she's in any of the plays or not. If we even hope to spring her, we've got to offer at least fifteen hundred."
"Well, how much did you offer?"
"It hasn't come to that yet."
"Look, would someone please talk straight?" Arthur said.
"We've always talked straight with you, Arthur," Selig answered.
"Was an offer made?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because she still has to talk to the people at Lincoln Center about getting sprung."
"Won't they let her go?"
"We think they will, but it's a matter of sitting down with these people and discussing it."
"Well, when is she going to do that?"
"As soon as she's sure she wants to do your play."
"That's right," Stern said.
"Let me try to get this straight," Arthur said. "Does she want to do my play?"
"It would seem so."
"When will we know?"
"I'll call her agent again, if you want me to," Selig said. "Is that what you'd like?"
"Yes."
"I don't think we should push this," Stern said.
"Why not?"
"Because if we can get Hester Miers to take this part, we'll raise all the money for the play immediately. That's why."
"I thought we had all the money already," Arthur said.
"This show will cost eighty thousand dollars," Stern said.
"Have we got all the money, or haven't we?"
"No, Arthur," Selig said. "We have not got all the money."
"You told me…"
"That's right," Stern said.
"You told me all the money was in. You said…"
"That's right, but a few of our people have dropped out."
"Well, even if a few of them have dropped out, that doesn't mean…"
"One of our people was a man who'd promised us a very large sum of money. He's decided to put it into a musical instead."
"How much do we still need?"
"We still need sixty thousand dollars," Selig said flatly.
"That means we've hardly got any of it," Arthur said.
"If we sign Hester, we'll get all of it," Stern said.
"Then for God's sake sign her!"
"She's not sure she wants to do it."
"Call her agent. I want to know."
"Mitzi will say what she said over the weekend," Stern said. "Hester's not sure."
"If you want me to call her, I will," Selig said. "I'll do whatever you want me to do, Arthur. After all, this is your play."
"That's right," Stern said, "but calling Mitzi won't do a bit of good."
"If Arthur wants me to call her, I will."
"Is that what you want, Arthur?"
"I want this play to go on," Arthur said fiercely.
"We all do."
"That's right. But calling Mitzi isn't going to help. She'll say she hasn't been able to reach Hester."
"Look…"
"This is the theater, Arthur. These people are sensitive individuals who—"
"Sensitive, my ass!" Arthur said. "My play is in danger of collapsing, and you're telling me some twenty-two-year-old kid has the power…"
"She's twenty-five, and she's very talented, and your play is not in danger of collapsing."
"I won't let this happen," Arthur said, and there was such an ominous note in his voice that the alley went immediately still. "Call Mitzi. Tell her we have to know, and we have to know right away."
"Don't push this," Stern warned.
"Oscar, if I don't push this, perhaps you'd like to tell me just who will."
"We all want the play to go on. We love this play."
"You've loved it for eleven months now, your option expires in January.
"That's right."
"Yes, that's right, and January is next month."
"We can always talk about an extension," Stern said. "If we get Hester."
"If we get Hester," Arthur repeated.
"That's right, if we get Hester. If we get Hester, we get the money, it's as simple as that. Once we get the money, we can talk extension. If you're willing to grant it, we can go into rehearsal as soon as we finish casting these minor parts. Probably in time for a spring opening."
Arthur nodded. "And if we don't get Hester?"
"Let's see what she has to say, okay?"
"Okay, call Mitzi," Arthur said.
"It'll have to wait till tomorrow."
"Why?"
"Because she's in Philadelphia," Selig said. "One of her clients, Boris Whatsisname, opens in Philadelphia tonight. She's got to be there to hold his hand."
"Well, why can't you call her there? Philadelphia's only—"
"I don't want to bother her with something like this when she's got an opening. Be sensible, Arthur. It's not going to pay to get impatient here."
"All right."
"All right, Arthur?"
"I said all right."
"I'll call her in the morning, first thing."
"All right."
"And then I'll get to you."
"I'll be in court. The cross starts tomorrow."
"You call me when you're free then, all right?"
"All right," Arthur said.
3
Sidney looked at his watch the moment he entered the vestibule of her building. It was a quarter to four, and she had promised to wait until at least five, but he was afraid now that she had grown impatient and left earlier. The nameplate over her bell was lettered in delicate black script, Charlotte Brown, and it annoyed him just as it always did. He knew her as Chickie Brown, and the formal black script — especially since it had been clipped from her business card — conjured an image of a person about whom he knew very little, Charlotte Brown, who was part owner of a travel agency on Madison Avenue, where she arranged vacations to Haiti or Istanbul for fat matrons. Scowling at the nameplate, he pressed the button below it, and hoped there would be an answering buzz. He gripped the knob on the inner vestibule door with his right hand, put his briefcase down on the floor, patted his hair into place with his free left hand, and waited. Sighing, he walked back to the row of mailboxes, rang the bell a second time, returned to grip the doorknob again, waited, went back to the bell a third time, waited again, and had to ring yet another time before she answered. Her buzz sparked an intense and immediate anger within him, how dare she keep him waiting so long? The anger mounted as he pushed open the frosted-glass door and stepped into the hallway. Did a man have to ring a bell four times before he was admitted to a building? An attorney? Angrily, he climbed the steps to her third-floor apartment. Angrily, he knocked on the door.
"Sidney?" she called.
"Yes," he said. "It's me." For a moment, he thought his anger had caused him to forget his briefcase in the vestibule below, and then he realized that he was holding it tightly in his sweating left hand. The door opened.
"Hello," he said brusquely.
"Hello, luv," she answered warmly.