Death of a Blue Movie Star

"What's that?"

"Equity Principal Interview. It's like an audition. She met with Schmidt himself twice."

"And she didn't get the part?"

"No, I guess not. That was just before our fight. I didn't keep up with her." Tucker ran the stem of his pipe along his front lower teeth. He was not speaking to Rune as he said, "My own acting career never went very far. My talent was for coaching and teaching. I thought that with Shelly I'd leave behind someone who was truly brilliant. I could makethat contribution to theater…"

He stared at a photo on the opposite wall. Rune wondered which one.

"Betrayal," he whispered bitterly. Then he turned his gaze to Rune. She felt naked under his deep eyes, shaded by the brush of his eyebrows. "You seem very young. Do you make those films too? The ones she did?"

"No," Rune said. She was going to make up something, the sort of job a girl her age should be doing, but with those strange currents shooting out from his eyes-a green version of Shelly's blue laser beams-she just repeated the denial in a whisper.

Tucker studied her for a long moment. "You have no business being an actress. Pardon my bluntness but you should look for another line of work."

"I just-"

But he was waving his hand. "I wouldn't do you a favor by being kind. Now if you'll excuse me." He pulled a script toward him.

It wasn't much of a list.

Rune sat at her desk-Cathy's old battered gray government-issue. She'd pushed it right next to the cracked front panel of L amp;R's air conditioner, which was churning out about a tenth of the BTUs it once had. She closed the Manhattan phone book.

There were only two A. Llewellyns listed and neither of them was an Andy. That left only the remaining twenty million citizens to survey in the other boroughs, Westchester, New Jersey and Co

Shelly's most recent boyfriend would have to go unquestioned for the time being.

Larry walked into the office and glanced at Rune. "Whatcha doing, luv?"

"Looking up things."

"Things?"

"Important things."

"Well, if you could postpone your search for a bitI've got something important for you."

"Letters to type?"

"Yeah, well, I wasn't going to mention it but those last ones? They were 'ardly the best typing job I've ever seen."

"I told you I wasn't a typist."

"You spelled the man's name three different ways in the same bleedin' letter."

"Was that the Indian guy? He had a weird name. I-"

"But his first name was James and that's the one you misspelled."

"I'll try to do better… You have my distributor for me yet?"

"Not yet, luv, but what I do 'ave is the people for this advertising job, right? In the next room. Did the estimate go out yet?"

"I typed it."

"But did it go out yet?"

Rune said patiently, "It's going to go out."

"So it 'asn't gone out yet?"

"It's finished, though."

"Rune, they're 'ere. Now. We're going to talk concepts today. They should've 'ad the estimate before this meeting."

"Sorry. I'll bring it in."

He sighed. "All right, let's go meet everybody. If they ask we'll tell 'em we were 'olding on to the estimate till this meeting. It was intentional."

"Larry, you shouldn't do advertising. It-"

"Oh, one of your boyfriends called."

"Yeah, who?"

" 'ealy, something like that. Wants you to call."

"Sam called? Great. I'll just be-"

"Later."

"But-"

He held the door open and smiled threateningly. "After you, luv."

Rune heard the name but forgot it immediately.

Larry was droning on, looking impressed as he recited, "… the second biggest wallet and billfold manufacturer in the United States."

Rune said, "How interesting."

The man with the company and the unmemorable name-Rune called him Mr. Wallet-was about fifty, round and sharp-eyed. He wore a seersucker suit and sweated a lot. He stood with his arms crossed, hovering beside a doughy woman in her late twenties, who also crossed her arms, looking with flitting eyes at the lights and cameras and dollies. She worked for the company too and was his daughter. She was also, Rune found out, going to act in the commercial.

Larry pretended to miss Rune's eyes as they made a circuit of the ceiling at this news.

Another young woman, horsey, with a sensible pageboy haircut and an abrasive voice, said to Rune, "I'm Mary Jane Collins. I'm House O' Leather's advertising director. I'll be supervising the shoot."

"Rune."

Mary Jane extended her bony hand, the costume jewelry bracelets jingling. Rune gripped it briefly.

Daughter said, "I'm a little nervous. I've done voice-overs but I've never been on camera before."

Mr. Wallet: "You'll do fine, baby. Just forget that-" He looked at Mary Jane. "How many people are going to see her?"

"The media buy should put us at about fifteen million viewers."

He continued, "Fifteen million people are going to be watching your every mood… oops, I mean move." He laughed.

"Daddy." She smiled with a twisted mouth.

Mary Jane read some papers. To Larry she said, "The budgets. I haven't seen the revised budgets."

Larry looked at Rune, who said, "They're almost ready."

He mouthed, Almost?

Mary Jane's dark hair swiveled as she looked down at Rune. "Almost?"

"A problem with the typewriter."

"Oh." Mary Jane laughed with surprise. "Sure, I understand. It's just that… Well, I would'vethought you'd have them for us before this. I mean, this is the logical time to review them. Even today is a little tardy, in terms of timing."

"Another couple hours. I glued the key back on." Larry said, "Rune, maybe you could go work on them now."

Rune said, "I thought we were going to talk concepts." "Oh," Mary Jane said, looking down at her, "I hadn't understood you were in a creative position here at the studio." "I-"

"What do you do, exactly?"

Larry said, "Rune's our production assistant."

Looking her up and down, Mary Jane said, "Oh." And smiled like a fourth-grade teacher.

Mr. Wallet was looking at a huge roll of a backdrop, twenty feet across, mottled like a pastel Jackson Pollock painting. "Now, that's something else. You think we can use that for the shoot? Mary Jane, what do you think?"

She glanced toward it and said slowly, "Might just fly. We'll put our thinking caps on about it." She turned back to the desk and opened her briefcase. "I've done a memo with all the schedule deadlines." She handed the paper to Rune. "Could you run and make a copy of it?"

Larry took the paper and held it out to Rune. "Sure she will." His eyes narrowed and Rune took the sheet.

"I'll be back in just a minute. I'll run just like a bu

"Daddy, will they have a makeup person? I don't have to do my own makeup, do I?"

Rune vanished through the door into the office. Larry followed.

"I thought you said it was bleedin' finished."

"Thee fell off your cheap-ass typewriter. That's the most-used letter in the English language."

"Well, go buy a new fuckin' typewriter. But I want those estimates in a half hour."

"You're a sellout."

I don't 'ave time for your bleedin' lectures, Rune. You work for me. Now get the copies made and get those estimates to us."

"You're going to let those people walk all over you. I'm looking out for your pride, Larry. Nobody else's going to."

"You gotta pay the rent, honey. Rule number one in business: Get the bucks. You don't have any money you don't get to do what you want."

"They're obnoxious."

"True."

"He smells bad."

"He does not."

"Somebodysmells bad. And that woman, that Mary Jane, is a dweeb."