TEDDY, SALLY, AND JENNY poured themselves a drink from Jake’s well-stocked bar and settled down to wait for him to regain something like consciousness.
“Hey, good morning!” somebody yelled.
Teddy sat up, blinking. Jake was standing in front of him, looking remarkably human.
“Ted, thanks for last night,” Jake said. “I remember some of it.”
“Jake,” Teddy said, “do you remember an argument with Dax?”
“I remember telling him to go fuck himself,” Jake replied. “Hey, I’ve got to call my pilot and get my airplane to Santa Fe. I’m off the picture.”
“Jake,” Teddy said, “why don’t you order some breakfast sent up, and let me tell you why you might not want to quit just yet.”
? ? ?
THE FOUR OF THEM were having breakfast.
“Let me get this straight,” Jake said. “If I do seven minutes of two-shots and close-ups, I’ll be done and home in L.A. for dinner Tuesday?”
“That’s right,” Teddy said, “and you’ll get your whole paycheck and avoid a very expensive lawsuit from Dax, which could have an unfavorable impact on your career.”
Jake took a sip of coffee. “Well, shit,” he said, “I guess I can put up with the fucker for another seven minutes. I’m in.”
Teddy’s cell phone rang. “Dan?”
“I’m with Dax. He buys it, and I got him to agree not to be on the set when Jake is working.”
“Jake’s on board, too,” Teddy said, “and he’ll be real glad to hear that news.”
14
TEDDY RODE TO WORK with Jake in his studio car. When they arrived at the location for the first setup, he got out of the car and looked carefully at the waiting faces. Dax was nowhere in sight.
“Okay, Jake,” Teddy said, “you’re on. Got your script?”
“Sure, but I’ve already learned my lines,” Jake said.
They were in a forested area near a small waterfall, ending in a creek. Dan introduced Teddy to the director, Troy Small.
“Dan told me what you did,” Small said to Teddy. “I want to thank you, and I want to thank you both for keeping Dax off the set while we shoot these setups.”
“You’re welcome,” Teddy said, “but I think we’ve got a problem here.”
Both Small and Dan were immediately attentive. “What now?” Dan asked.
“The waterfall,” Teddy said. “That’s going to read on the soundtrack, and it’s the sort of thing that could require some looping back at the studio.”
“Oh, fuck, you’re right,” Small said. “Jake’s not going to show up for looping, is he?”
“Doubtful,” Teddy said.
Small conferred with his sound man while an assistant miked Jake. He came back to Teddy and Dan. “My guy thinks he can pull it off by using two mikes, one for Jake and one for the water, then reduce the water sound in the editing room.”
“That could work,” Dan said, “but maybe not, and we’re not going to find out until we’re in the editing room.”
“It’s worth a try,” Teddy said. “If it doesn’t, you can always hire another actor who’s a good mimic to do the looping.”
“I know just the guy,” Small said. “He’s a comedian and he can do anybody.”
“Then let’s shoot,” Dan said.
Teddy got an extra headset from the sound man and plugged it into the equipment.
“I need levels,” the sound man said.
“Jake, give me a quick reading for a level,” Small said.
Jake counted to ten.
“Shit, that was perfect,” the sound man said. “Good for me.”
“Let’s do one for real,” Small said, and the other actor in the scene stepped in. They did two quick takes, and everybody was happy.
“All right,” Dan said, “that’s a minute and a half in the can. Let’s do the close-up.”
They set up for the close-up, and while the other actor read his lines, Jake spoke his part exactly as in the two-shot.
“The guy’s a pro,” Teddy said to Dan.
“Okay, next setup,” Small called out, and everybody started moving equipment.
Dan took a cell call, then came over to Teddy. “Dax wants to see you in his double-wide,” he said.
“What about?”
“He brushed me off when I asked, but he wasn’t shouting.”
“That’s good,” Teddy said.
“Maybe, but he was very quiet,” Dan replied, “and he gets that way when he’s most deeply upset. Jake’s driver will take you there, then come back for Jake. Watch your ass.”
Teddy got into the car, and they moved out. Halfway to the double-wide, his cell rang. “Yes?”
“It’s Dan. Dax’s assistant called me and said that Dax has found something wrong with your background.”
“Any idea what?” Teddy asked, trying to sound baffled.
“No, but I say again, watch your ass.”
The car pulled up, and Teddy got out and knocked on the door. Dax’s assistant opened it, showed Teddy in, then she got out.
“Have a seat, Ted,” Dax said. His voice was very quiet.
Teddy sat down. “What can I do for you?”
“Is Ted your real name?” Dax asked.
Teddy kept it conversational. “It’s Theodore, but I’ve always been called Ted.”
“I happened to speak to a friend of mine in New York an hour ago. He was a producer on the documentary film you listed as a credit on your résumé, and he says there was nobody named Ted Shirley on the crew.”
Teddy’s mind was racing now; the documentary had been filmed three years ago; he steamed straight ahead. “Who’s your friend?”
“Jason Cohen, he’s a partner in the company.”
“I never met him,” Teddy said. “I was called in the night before to replace somebody who had a medical emergency. Tell Mr. Cohen to check the call sheets for the last four days of the shoot, which were done on location at the Central Park Zoo.” Teddy had seen the film, and he remembered those scenes. He reran the film credits in his mind. “The guy I replaced was Robert Swain. He got the assistant director screen credit.” Teddy remembered something else about Swain: he was dead of a heart attack before the film hit the theaters.
Dax was less certain now. “Were you a friend of Swain’s?”
“No, I didn’t know him.”
“How’d you happen to get the call?”
“They called the union in a panic for a replacement, since the rules didn’t allow shooting without an AD, and somebody there gave them my name.”
“That’s a strange way to replace a key crew member,” Dax said.
“I heard they tried two other people, who weren’t available. It was late in the evening and the shoot was for dawn, before the zoo opened. What would you have done in the circumstances?” You would have called the union, Teddy thought: say it.
Dax didn’t say it, but he thought about it. “What was Swain’s medical emergency?”
“Heart problem, I heard on the set.”
Dax turned to his computer and typed something.
He’s Googling Robert Swain, Teddy thought. I hope.
Dax read something on the screen, then turned back to Teddy. “You broke my guy’s wrist last night.”
“He was threatening me,” Teddy said, “and he’s a lot bigger than I am.”
“What did you hit him with?”
“An umbrella.”
“An umbrella? You took those two guys down with an umbrella?”
“It was a big umbrella,” Teddy said.
“What were you doing with an umbrella?”
“It looked like rain. I keep an umbrella in my truck.”
Now Dax was trying to remember if it had rained the night before, but he gave up. “Okay, get out of here.”
Teddy got up and headed for the door.
“Shirley?” Dax said.
Teddy turned back. “Yessir?”
“Dan told me how you solved our problem. I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome.”
“There’ll be something extra in your paycheck when we wrap,” Dax said.
“Thanks very much,” Teddy said, then he got out of there.
15
TEDDY FOUND THE CREW shooting another setup in the hills. As he got out of the car, Dan Waters came striding over.
“Don’t worry,” Teddy said, “it went just fine.”
Dan pulled him aside out of earshot of everybody else. “It didn’t go as fine as you think.”
“He asked me some questions, I answered him, and as I was leaving he thanked me for my suggestion about Jake and said there’d be a bonus in my final paycheck.”
“I got a call from his assistant after you left. She said Dax was back on the phone, making calls about you.”
“I don’t know what his problem is,” Teddy said.