Video Kill (8 page)

Alan raised his arm in a drinking gesture and his secretary hurried to the liquor cabinet. She mixed a Bloody Mary and handed it to him. Alan drank it down at a gulp and motioned for another.

“Yes, Uncle Meyer, I realize I'm only the
acting
head of Cinescope. Now, let me see if I've got this straight. You want to see the first three scenes from Rocca and Nielsen on spec. No money. No signed contract. And the hell with guild rules. If you like their work, you want Lon Michaels to call you personally and commit to the project. Then, and only then, will you authorize the contracts. Is that right?”

As his uncle confirmed, Alan took a long swallow of his second drink. Then he made an obscene gesture with the phone that made his assistant collapse on the bed in silent laughter.

“Thank you, Uncle Meyer. You have a nice day, too.”

 

 

Tony parked in the lot and raced into the back door of the Schwartzvold building. He didn't have time for the “Walk of the Stars” this morning. The Video Killer had struck again. That meant that Alan would be sure to call and he was running late.

“George! Hold the elevator!”

Tony ran across the lobby and got in next to George Sturges, the young attorney who had an office on the fifth floor. As the elevator groaned its way upward, Tony noticed that George was looking at his shirt. He was wearing his new, long-sleeved purple one that said
THE PARANOIDS ARE AFTER ME
in huge red letters.

“Nice shirt, Tony.” George nodded as he got off on the fifth floor. “I've got a couple of clients that could use one of those.”

The elevator seemed to take forever to get up to the tower. Tony breezed into the office at eight forty-five to find Erik staring morosely at a paper plate containing two maple bars and two cinnamon twists. An unopened container of Winchell's coffee was leaking merrily away on the desk, but Erik didn't seem to notice.

“Who died? Besides Sharee Lyons and Tammara Welles, I mean.” Tony grabbed one of the maple bars and bit off the end.

“I think we did.”

Tony stopped chewing and swallowed the piece whole. It stuck a little, but he got it down without choking.

“Alan called at eight-thirty.” Erik's voice was funereal.

“He didn't exercise his option?” Tony was flabbergasted. “I just don't believe it! Does he know about the new murder last night?
Video Kill
's even hotter than it was last week. Alan's crazy if he—”

“Calm down, Tony,” Erik interrupted. “He says it's still pending. He just called to lay down some conditions.”

“What conditions?”

“The first one is that our screenplay follow the actual murders.”

“Yeah. I'm working on that. I've got an appointment with the chief of detectives.”

“You actually got an appointment with Sam Ladera?” Erik raised his eyebrows. “That's amazing, Tony. The newspapers say he's not talking to anyone.”

“It was easy. Sam and I went to school together. I figure I can get him to tell me the inside story.”

“That's one down.” Erik still looked glum. “The second condition's not so easy. Alan wants to use Lon Michaels for director of photography.”

“What's wrong with that? Lon Michaels does great work! I can't believe Alan actually signed him.”

“He didn't. That's the second condition. Alan's uncle won't go with anybody except Michaels, and Michaels isn't sure he wants to do it. He claims he's not familiar enough with the genre. Alan wants us to talk him around.”

“Okay,” Tony agreed. “That shouldn't be hard. Lon and I went to school together.”

“Is there anybody you
didn't
go to school with?”

“Nobody important.” Tony grinned. “You know what they say about birds of a feather. Now, what's the third condition? I know you always save the worst for last.”

“Alan talked to his uncle in Hawaii this morning. The old man insists that we turn in three sample scenes of the screenplay before he'll commit to the movie.”

“He can't do that! It's against guild rules.”

“I know that. So does Alan. He said he explained all that, but the old man's stubborn. He's gung ho on the concept, but he won't buy unless he can read the first three scenes. No sample, no sale.”

“So what are we going to do?”

“I don't know.” Erik sighed deeply. “I told Alan I'd talk it over with you and call him back. I need this sale, Tony . . . for personal reasons. But breaking guild rules could get us in a lot of trouble.”

“Yeah.
If
they catch us.”

Tony looked at his maple bar and put it back on the plate. He wasn't hungry anymore. Erik might need this sale but not half as much as he did. Six months ago he'd been forced to borrow to pay the bills, and he was in hock up to his eyeballs. The banks wouldn't touch him, and he was already into the Guild Credit Union for the maximum. The only loan he'd been able to get was off the street, and they'd offered him a way to make the payments if he didn't mind doing work that was borderline legal. The “little job” he'd been holding down wasn't something Tony wanted to talk about in polite company, but his back was to the wall. Guild rules? They seemed insignificant compared to what could happen to him if he didn't make his loan payments on time.

“Look at it like this.” Tony stood up and paced in front of Erik's desk. “Who'd know about it if we dashed off the first three scenes and delivered them to Alan?”

“We'd know.”

“True. And while our consciences might twinge all the way to the bank, we're not about to turn ourselves in to the guild.”

“That's true.” Erik nodded. “But Alan would know.”

“Alan?” Tony shrugged. “Alan's not going to say anything to risk Cinescope's signatory status. He's got more to lose than we do.”

“So you think we should do it?”

Erik was clearly wavering. Tony took time to light a cigarette. Then he nodded.

“I vote yes. The risks outweigh the benefits. Even if the guild does find out about it, we'll probably get away with a slap on the wrist and a stiff fine.”

Erik sighed deeply and Tony could tell he was still disturbed. Lutheran guilt again. Finally he nodded.

“All right. I'm with you. I just hope this whole thing doesn't blow up in our faces.”

“Blow up?
Blow Up?
What a terrific title for a movie! Now, clean up that disgusting brown puddle on your desk and I'll go put on a good pot of coffee.”

 

 

Erik and Tony waited until the red light stopped blinking over the door of sound stage twenty-six before they pushed it open and went inside. Tony nudged Erik and gestured toward a man dressed in chinos and a designer polo shirt who was sitting in a leather director's chair on the edge of the set.

“That's him, Erik. Lon Michaels in the flesh.”

“Really? I never would have guessed it.” Erik grinned as he noticed the back of the cinematographer's chair. It said LON in large gold letters.

Tony nudged Erik as they walked toward the set. “Let me start things off, Erik. You jump in to support whatever I say, even if it's complete bullshit.”

“That seems to be my role in life.” Erik grinned. “Okay, Tony, you're up first.”

Erik stayed a step behind as Tony tapped Lon on the shoulder. He'd wanted to call Lon for an appointment, but Tony had been insistent that they barge right in. It was supposed to give them a psychological advantage. Lon wouldn't have time to marshal his arguments against
Video Kill
if they took him by surprise.

“Lon! Good to see you again.” Tony was all smiles. “I'm Tony Rocca, and this is my partner, Erik Nielsen. You may not remember me, but we did a graduate project together at UCLA.”

“We did?”

“Professor Truitt, Film Production five-oh-three. It was a short subject about a magic Hula-Hoop.”

Lon began to smile. “Of course. You wrote the script!”

“Careful, Lon. The walls have ears. That script was a real turkey, and I would have flunked without your tricky camera work.”

“It wasn't
that
bad.” Lon laughed. “You know, I just never made the connection with your name before. I saw
Free Fire
and I thought the script was excellent.”

“Thank you, Lon. Erik and I really worked hard on it. Now tell me, honestly, what did you think of the camera work?”

“Andy Coyne's a very competent man.”

“Same old Lon.” Tony shook his head. “I should've known you'd never knock a colleague. Don't you ever get bored, being such a nice guy all the time?”

Lon laughed. “Sometimes. Now, cough up, Tony. You didn't come here just to renew an old acquaintance, did you?”

“Nope. We came here to talk you into doing
Video Kill
.”

That's what I was afraid of.” Lon sighed. “Look, Tony, I've already told Alan that it's not my type of film. I‘ve never done murder-suspense. And now there's another reason. I knew Tammara Welles, and her murder has me rattled. I wouldn't want to be a party to sensationalizing her death.”

“Of course not.” Erik took up the argument. “Neither would we. We want to concentrate on the personality of the killer and downplay the rest. We want to do
Video Kill
with taste and class.”

Lon raised his eyebrows. “A serial murder story with taste?”

“That's right.” Tony stepped in. “We're trying for less of a murder story and more of a psychological profile. Do you think it can be done?”

“I don't know.” Lon frowned slightly. “It's certainly a challenge. Look, guys, I wish you all the luck in the world but—”

“I suppose I shouldn't mention this,” Erik interrupted before Lon would turn them down, “but Alan's signed Tom Steiner to direct. You're familiar with his work?”

“Uh, yes.”

Lon's slight hesitation told Erik that he was right on target.

“Tony and I are afraid that he's going to turn
Video Kill
into another
Murder On Call.
The original script was quality work until Steiner got his hands on it.”

Lon nodded. “I've seen the film. Steiner did the rewrite, didn't he?”

“You bet he did.” Erik gave a rueful laugh. “He ditched the original concept and came up with pure blood porn.”

“And you're afraid he'll do the same thing with
Video Kill
?”

“You got it. Tony and I just don't carry enough weight to make sure that the film's done the right way. That's why we need you, Lon. If you demand final cut approval, you'll get it. Steiner'd go on record as director, but you'd actually be running the show.”

“I see.” Lon smiled slightly. “You not only need my talent, you also need my clout. Steiner, huh?”

“Steiner.” Erik and Tony spoke in unison.

“It's tempting to think that I could actually force Steiner into doing quality work.”

There was a long pause, and Tony motioned for Erik to remain silent. He'd sold life insurance for a while when he was in college and he knew that the first person who spoke would be the loser. Finally Lon cleared his throat.

“Look, guys, I don't want to make any commitments at this point. I'll be wrapping on this
Jubee
thing in a week or two, and I promise to think seriously about it then.”

“That's all we ask, Lon.” Tony reached out to shake his hand. “How about lunch sometime soon? We're starting on the script and we'd really appreciate your input.”

“You want my suggestions for the
script?
I've been in this business for years and no one's ever asked me to consult on a script.”

Tony nodded. “I know it's unusual, but you'd be doing us a real favor. We trust your priorities when it comes to aesthetics. Take the first murder, for example. The stabbing in the shower? We think it would be much more effective to imply the violence, rather than let it all hang out up there on the screen. Is there any way to shoot that scene
through
the shower curtain? Or maybe with backlighting? Or shadows?”

Lon nodded. “That's easy, Tony. You have several options, but I think your best bet might be to use the technique I did in the lake scene in
Carole's Dream
.”

Just then a bell rang on the set, and Lon stood up. “Sorry, guys, I have to run. Nice meeting you, Erik. And Tony, it's good to see you again. Why don't you check with Susan on your way out and set up lunch for next week? Have her pick a day when we're starting late so we'll have plenty of time to talk. In the meantime, I'll run a few tests with low-level color and see what I can come up with.”

Tony waited until they were out the door and then he slapped Erik on the back. “He's hooked! You were inspired in there, partner. I never would have thought to ask him to save us from Steiner. Where the hell did you hear that story about
Murder On Call
?”

“From the busboy at Rosie's Bar. It's a big-time studio hangout. The busboy's been there for years and he knows where all the bodies are buried.”

“How did you get him to tell you?”

“Purely by accident, Tony. We started talking and I mentioned I was a writer. So he warned me to stay away from Steiner.”

“Well, I'm certainly glad you brought it up. I think that's what tipped the scales with Lon.”

“It helped. But I think your bit about getting Lon to call the shower shot is what really put us over the top. What do you say we reward ourselves with some lunch?”