I want to make a movie,” Teddy said. He said it with the exaggerated emphasis of an old man who expects to get his way. For his meeting with Mason Kimble, Teddy had made himself up as a wealthy eccentric, with wild hair and tie carelessly askew.
Teddy slapped a screenplay down on Mason’s desk. “Night Noises. Great title. A lot of meanings, all of them good.”
Mason glanced at Gerard Cardigan, who sat off to the side. “Did you write this, Mr. Jackson?”
“Hell, no. I bought it. I read it, I said I want to make this movie. My question is whether you want to make it, too.”
“It takes a lot of money to make a motion picture.”
“How much?”
“This is not some fly-by-night production. You’re talking about a major motion picture.”
“How much?”
“Five million dollars,” Mason said. He was careful not to look at Gerard Cardigan. To date, their biggest budget had been half a million.
Teddy frowned. “That’s more than I invested last time. Quite a bit more. I’m not saying it’s not doable.”
“Was your last production successful?”
“My last movie was a pain in the ass. I put up the money, and they didn’t want me on the set, said I made this actress nervous. I’m paying her fucking salary—what right has she got to be nervous? That’s the first thing right up front. There’s girls in this picture. Cute girls. And I wanna be there when you film them.”
“Is there nudity in the script?”
“What’s that got to do with anything? The cameraman’s there, you’re there, the soundman’s there. Are they wearing blindfolds? You got an actress doesn’t want to do it, don’t hire ’em. You got a clause right in the contract, don’t you?” Teddy pointed to the movie posters of Star Pictures productions, many of which featured scantily clad young ladies. “I suppose none of these pictures have nudity.”
Mason took that as his cue to brag about his own work.
Teddy tuned out and sized up the young men. Mason Kimble was pretty much what he expected—an arrogant young blowhard pumping himself up by pretending to be something he could never be.
Gerard Cardigan was the wild card. Teddy hadn’t expected Gerard, but meeting him cleared some things up. Mason was a lightweight, but Gerard was dangerous. There was something cold and calculating in his look that gave Teddy a chill. He had seen that same look in the eyes of a serial killer once, just before he shot him dead. The young man was proof, had Teddy needed any, that Vanessa Morgan drowning in her bathtub had not been an accident.
Teddy was particularly interested in the young men, and had been ever since he walked into their studio. A DVD player was connected to the TV in front of the desk.
Teddy asked a few more bullshit questions, familiarized himself with the layout of the office, and got the hell out.
What do you think?” Mason asked Gerard, after Teddy left.
“I think we’re in the middle of something big. Why do you want to jeopardize it for five million? Do you really believe this guy’s going to come up with that kind of money? I couldn’t believe it when I heard you say it.”
“I said five million to scare him off. He didn’t scare.”
“Exactly,” Gerard said.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing. Maybe. But do me a favor, just forget about him.”
“Why?”
“This is a guy you normally wouldn’t waste your time with, but you are. I’ll tell you why. The takeover bid failed. You had a big letdown, and you need a big rush to make yourself feel better. Well, that guy isn’t it. I know it, and you know it, so forget about him and get back to the task at hand. The girl fucked with us, and we need to take action.”
“Send her a cell phone.”
“How?”
“Leave it in her trailer and watch to see when she gets it. It scares her when she picks it up and it rings.”
“Fine,” Gerard said. He got a burner cell phone from the cabinet and slipped it into a mailer. “And do me a favor, will you?”
“What?”
“Take the DVD out of the safe and lock it up at home.”
“Why?”
“Just a feeling.”