The Fifth Witness Part 14

Archway was a second-tier studio across Melrose from one of the behemoths, Paramount Pictures. Started as a studio lot to handle the overflow demand for soundstages and equipment, it grew into a self-sustaining studio under the guidance of the late Walter Elliot. It now made its own slate of films each year and created its own overflow demand. Coincidentally, Elliot happened to be a client of mine at one time.

It took Rojas twenty minutes to get from my house above Laurel Canyon to the studio. He pulled up to the security booth at the signature arch that spanned the studio's entrance. I lowered the window and told the security man who approached me that I was there to see Clegg McReynolds. He asked for my name and ID and I gave him my driver's license. He retreated to the booth and consulted a computer screen. He frowned.

"I'm sorry, sir, but you're not on the drive-on list. Do you have an appointment?"

"No appointment but he'll want to see me."

I hadn't wanted to give McReynolds too much advance notice.

"Well, I can't let you in without an appointment."

"Can you call him and tell him I'm here? He'll want to see me. You know who he is, right?"

The implication was clear. This was one you didn't want to screw up.

The guard slid the door shut while he made the call to McReynolds. Through the gla.s.s I saw him talking. He had a live one on the line. Then he slid the door open and extended the phone to me. It was on a long cord. I took it and then raised the window on the guard. t.i.t for tat.

"This is Michael Haller. Is this Mr. McReynolds?"

"No, this is Mr. McReynolds's personal a.s.sistant. How can I help you, Mr. Haller? I see no appointment here in the book and, frankly, I don't know who you are."

The voice was female, young and confident.

"I'm the guy who is going to make your boss's life miserable if you don't get him on the line."

There was a bubble of silence before the voice responded.

"I don't think I like your threatening manner. Mr. McReynolds is on the set and-"

"It was not a threat. I don't make threats. I just speak the truth. Where's the set?"

"I'm not telling you that. You're not getting anywhere near Clegg until I know what this is about."

I noted that she was on a first-name basis with the boss. A horn blared from behind me. The cars were stacking up. The guard rapped his knuckles on my window, then bent down to try to see in through the smoked gla.s.s. I ignored him. A second horn honked from the rear.

"This is about your saving your boss a lot of grief. Are you familiar with the deal he announced last week regarding the woman accused of killing the banker foreclosing on her home?"

"Yes, I am."

"Well, your boss acquired those rights illegally. I'm a.s.suming this was through no fault or knowledge of his own. If I'm right, he's the victim of a scam and I'm here to make it right for him. This is a one-time opportunity. After this, Clegg McReynolds gets pulled down into the quicksand."

The final threat was punctuated with another long blast from the car directly behind me and a sharp rap on the window.

"Talk to the guard," I said. "Tell him yea or nay."

I lowered the window and handed the phone out to the angry guard. He held it to his ear.

"What's it going to be? I've got a line of cars out to Melrose here."

He listened and then stepped back into his booth and hung up the phone. Then he looked at me as he pushed the b.u.t.ton that opened the gate.

"Stage nine," he said. "Straight ahead and left at the end. You can't miss it."

I threw him a told-you-so smile as I raised the window and Rojas drove under the rising gate.

Stage 9 was a soundstage big enough to house an aircraft carrier. It was surrounded by equipment trucks, star wagons and craft services vans. Four stretch limos were parked end to end along one side, their engines running and drivers waiting for filming to end and the anointed to exit.

It looked like a major production but I wasn't going to get the chance to see what it was about. Walking down the middle of the driveway between Buildings 9 and 10 were an older man and a younger woman. The woman wore a headset, which I a.s.sumed made her a PA. She pointed a finger at my approaching car.

"Okay, let me out here."

Rojas stopped and as I was opening the door my phone rang. I pulled it and looked at the screen.

ID UNAVAILABLE.

It said that on the calls I used to get from my clients in the drug trade. They used cheap throw-away phones to avoid wiretaps and record searches. I ignored the call and left the phone on the seat. You want me to answer your call, you gotta tell me who you are.

I slowly got out, leaving the cane behind as well. Why advertise a weakness, my father, the great lawyer, always said. I slowly walked toward the producer and his a.s.sistant.

"You're Haller?" the man called out.

"That's me."

"I want you to know that this production you just pulled me out of is running a quarter million dollars an hour. They went ahead and shut down inside just so I could come outside to deal with you."

"I appreciate that and I'll make it quick."

"Good. Now what the f.u.c.k is this about me being scammed? n.o.body scams me!"

I looked at him and waited and said nothing. It only took McReynolds five more seconds to blow another gasket.

"Well, are you going to tell me or not? I don't have all day here."

I looked at his personal a.s.sistant and then back at him. He got the message.

"Uh-uh, I'm going to have a witness to anything that's said here. The girl stays."

I shrugged and pulled a compact recorder out of my pocket and turned it on. I held it up, its red light glowing.

"Then I'll make sure I have a record, too."

McReynolds looked down at the device and I could see the concern in his eyes. His voice, his words preserved on tape. That could be dangerous in a place like Hollywood. Visions of Mel Gibson danced in his head.

"Okay, turn that off and Jenny goes."

"Clegg!" Jenny protested.

McReynolds reached down and spanked her hard on the rump.

"I said go."

Humiliated, the young woman hurried off like a schoolgirl.

"Sometimes you have to treat 'em that way," McReynolds explained.

"And I'm sure they learn from it."

McReynolds nodded in agreement, not picking up on the sarcasm in my voice.

"So again, Haller, what's this about?"

"It's about you, Clegg, being played for a sucker by Herb Dahl, your partner on the Lisa Trammel deal."

McReynolds emphatically shook his head.

"No way. Legal's all over that deal. It's squeaky clean. Even the woman signed off. Trammel. I could make her a three-hundred-pound wh.o.r.e who likes black d.i.c.k in the movie and she couldn't do a thing about it. That deal is perfect."

"Yeah, well, what Legal's missed is the part about neither one of them having the rights to the story to sell you in the first place. Those rights happen to reside here with me. Trammel signed them over to me before Dahl came along and took second position. He thought he could move up one by stealing the original contracts out of my files. Only that's not going to work. I've got a witness to the theft and Dahl's fingerprints. He's going to go down on fraud and theft charges and your choice here is to decide whether you want to go down with him, Clegg."

"Are you threatening me? Is this some sort of shakedown? n.o.body shakes me down."

"No, no shakedown. I just want what's mine. So you can either stick with Dahl as your partner or you can have the same deal with me."

"It's too late. I signed. We all signed. The deal is done."

He turned to walk away.

"Have you paid him?"

He turned back to me.

"Are you kidding? This is Hollywood."

"And you probably only signed deal memos, right?"

"That's right. Contracts in four weeks."

"Then your deal is announced but not done. That's how you do it in Hollywood. But if you want to make a change, you can. If you want to find a deal killer, you can."

"I don't want to do any of that. I like the project. Dahl brought it to me. I made the deal with him."

I nodded like I understood his dilemma.

"Suit yourself. But I go to the police tomorrow morning and file the suit in the afternoon. You'll be named as a defendant. As someone who colluded in the perpetration of the fraud."

"I did no such thing! I didn't even know about all of this until you told me."

"That's right. I told you and you did nothing. You chose to move forward with a thief despite knowing the facts. That's collusion and that makes my case."

I reached into my pocket and pulled the tape recorder out. I held it up so he could see the red light was still on.

"I'm going to tie this movie up so long, the girl whose a.s.s you just slapped will be running this place by the time it's done."

This time I walked away and he called me back.

"Wait a minute, Haller."

I turned around. He looked off to the north, toward the sign high on the mountain that drew everybody here.

"What do I need to do?" he asked.

"You need to make the same deal with me. I'll take care of Dahl. He deserves something and he'll get it."

"I need a phone number to give Legal."

I pulled a card and gave it to him.

"Remember, I have to hear something today."

"You will."

"By the way, what are the numbers on the deal?"

"Two-fifty against a million. Another quarter to produce."

I nodded. A quarter million dollars up front would certainly fund Lisa Trammel's defense. There might even be a piece left over for Herb Dahl. It all depended on how I wanted to handle this and how fair I wanted to be to a thief. Realistically, I'd have liked to put the guy in the ground, but then again he did find the project a legitimate home.

"Tell you what, I'm the only guy in town who will ever say this, but I don't want to produce. You keep that part of the deal with Dahl. That's his end."

"As long as he's not in jail."

"Put a character clause in the contract."

"That'll be something new around here. I hope Legal can handle it."

"Pleasure doing business with you, Clegg."

Once more I turned and headed back toward my car. This time Clegg came up alongside me and walked with me.

"We'll be able to reach you, right? We'll need you as a technical advisor. Especially on the screenplay."

"You have my card."

I got to the Lincoln and Rojas had the door open for me. Once again I carefully slipped in, nice and easy on the cojones, cojones, and then looked back at McReynolds. and then looked back at McReynolds.