Until Proven Innocent

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Until Proven Innocent Page 8

by Gene Grossman


  I still don’t have an idea finalized as to how to handle the owners and that Miller guy, but after Jack finishes up his investigation, I’m sure some way will become clear. While I sit here dreaming up new strategy, I hear a strange noise. I’m afraid it’s the boat’s engines being started up.

  This is a noise that is not pleasant to me. The sound itself isn’t what bothers me, it’s the fact that if the engines are running, that means the boat may be moving soon. I see the kid moving around working switches on a control panel, revving the engines, and giving orders to the four Asian Boys who always seem to be around whenever she needs something done. They do maintenance work on most of the boats here on our dock, and I also see them working as waiters and busboys at the Chinese restaurant around the corner, where Suzi’s late mother worked, and where the kid is treated as a celebrity.

  I hear her shouting out some orders, and the Boys are running around on the dock, loosening the dock lines and making sure that the boat doesn’t bump into the pilings that support the dock.

  In the past, whenever there was some reason to move the boat, I would go up to the flybridge and be a ‘shill’ for the kid, who really knows how to drive this thing. She would do the work from the lower steering station, and I would pretend to be in charge.

  This time, it’s almost sunset and no one is watching us, so we don’t have to do our act. I’m just going to sit here on the couch and relax while she does whatever she has to do. I’ve been informed by other boaters that you have to actually take these things out of the slip every once in a while, just to give the engines some exercise. This time, I think that the kid wants to take the boat out at least three miles past the breakwater so that she can flush out the holding tanks.

  Whatever she wants to do is okay with me, as long as I don’t have to learn how to drive this thing. I enjoy living on it, but have no fascination with boats that actually move. At first I thought she might have difficulty in locating our slip when she returns here after dark, but now I realize that what the Asian Boys were painting on the tops of the two pilings yesterday was actually a glow-in-the-dark paint. This means that returning to the slip later this evening, those two glowing tips will be visible almost a mile away.

  At first I felt a little guilty in not being able to drive this boat, but that feeling subsided whenever I looked over to George Clooney’s megayacht. I believe with all my soul that he couldn’t drive that thing if his life depended on it. That huge ship of his is almost three times the size of this one, and we have a crew of four just to handle the lines and pull up the fenders on this one. And once our boat gets back to the slip, they’re all quite busy re-tying the dock lines and hosing the boat down to get the saltwater off of it. I have a feeling that George does just what I’m doing. He sits back and enjoys other people driving the boat and doing all the work. I knew we had something in common.

  Just as we pull out of the slip my cell phone rings. It’s Ren calling from the soundstage. They’re through shooting for the day, but Tony and Joe Caulfield are still in the office fighting over tomorrow’s shooting script. I tell Joe that from now on, the only time he should feel compelled to call and check in with me is when someone actually gets shot – by Tony.

  Surprisingly, the cruise is quite enjoyable. Our main tourist attraction in the Marina is called Fisherman’s Wharf, and its phony New England fishing town waterfront design is attractively lighted in the evening. I’ve never seen it from the water at night before, and it’s a very nice sight. It’s a bit bumpy leaving the harbor and going around the breakwater, but once the kid flicks another switch, a device called ‘stabilizers’ kick in, and the rolling motion stops.

  The only slight problem I have with going out past the breakwater is getting seasick. There’ve been plenty of theories about what causes seasickness, but I think I’ve finally got the right answer. It’s the same thing that can get to you when you’re reading in a moving car. It’s not necessarily the motion that can make you feel nausea coming on, it’s the sensory conflict that you pick up because of a difference in motion between your primary senses of vision and motion. In a moving car, when you try to read, your close focus is on a stationary object, the item you’re reading, while your peripheral vision is picking up the motion of scenery whizzing by the car window. This sensory conflict can get to you.

  The same thing can happen on a boat, but instead of your peripheral vision sensing motion, it’s your inner ear feeling the motion of the boat. The conflict occurs when you’re close focused on some part of the boat that’s moving with you, so it appears to be standing still with respect to your body. Every person has his or her own tolerance level. I remember one time a guest on our boat asked me to close the blinds on some windows because she was starting to feel woozy while we were sitting still in the slip. Evidently she was looking out our windows and saw the boat moving up and down ever so slowly, in contrast to the nearby apartment buildings.

  I guess the only way to combat the feeling is to keep all three of your motion senses lined up - close focus, peripheral vision, and inner ear. The only way to do this is to look out in the distance so that you can see the exact same motion that you feel. This works for me. All that a seasickness drug like Dramamine does is dull your senses, so that they might ignore the conflict. Personally, I’d rather have my senses about me and avoid seasickness the natural way.

  Suzi reaches a place that is supposed to be at least three miles out and then turns back toward land, presenting us with another nice view of the West Los Angeles coastline. As planned, she has no problem finding the slip, and soon the engines have been turned off. Once the Asian Boys have the boat secured, quiet resumes.

  If I can avoid getting sick, going to sea always makes me hungry and thirsty, so I call a cab and make plans to once again become a drunken sailor at Mi Ranchito.

  *****

  Olive succeeded in getting hired sight unseen. She must have really laid it on thick to Hershel, because the production company called to ask me when their featured actress would be available for a rehearsal. They planned on a three-day shoot. One day up in Northern California at the factory, one day on the highway, and ending up at Hershel’s dealership for the live telecast of his ‘premiere’ of the new car.

  I told them that I’d bring the dialogue to them on a digital tape, and they said that I shouldn’t be worried about timing. As long as all the dialogue is on the tape, they’ll put it in the commercial at the right places and mix it in with the music they’ll be adding.

  Olive calls.

  “Hi Mister Sharp, it’s Olive. When Hal told me I was hired, he gave me the name and address of the production company that’s shooting the commercial. I’m supposed to go over there for a rehearsal. Are you coming with me?”

  “No Olive, I’m not going to be there with you.”

  “Oh, okay. I just thought you’d like to… oh, never mind. When do you think I should go over there? Hal said they’d be expecting me to call.”

  “Olive, I’ll tell you about it tonight, when we make your dialogue recording at the Venice Soundstage.”

  *****

  As arranged, Olive arrives right on time at the soundstage this evening. Everyone has already gone home, but I paid Ren to stay a little later to help us set up the microphone. It’s a good thing that the session is this evening, because Ren tells me that it’s the only night he has off from his other job. I don’t ask him any personal questions, because one of the other crewmembers mentioned one time that he works evenings as a projectionist at a local movie theater.

  Olive surprises me. Using her best phone sex voice, she goes through the several sentences flawlessly and really makes it sound alluring. Hershel will definitely be getting his money’s worth out of this soundtrack. Now I can see how Olive made such a nice living doing that conversational business… she’s really good at it.

  After she’s all done, I tell Ren that it’s a wrap, and he closes up the stage, handing me the recorder to return to our dock nei
ghbor. I take the digital cassette and put it in a messenger bag to be sent to the commercial production company tomorrow.

  Olive sees me putting the tape into the bag.

  “You don’t have to spend any money sending the tape over to the production company, Mister Sharp. I’m planning on going over there tomorrow morning and I can deliver it for you.”

  “You’re not going there tomorrow, Olive. You’re never going over there.”

  She’s flabbergasted.

  “What do you mean I’m not going over there? I’m in the commercial. I have to be there. We have a rehearsal to do… don’t we?”

  “Olive, I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but you asked me to help you out with the harassing calls you were getting from Hal, and the fact that he threatened to blackmail you. Remember that?

  “Well, I’ve put an entire plan into operation, and I think it’s the only way we can ever get Hal out of your life. If you go to that production company, you’ll be on his hook forever, and I can’t imagine what he might ask for next time.

  “Listen Olive, I want you to trust me on this one. Everything will become clear to you in the next month or so, and if it makes you feel any better, you’ve just earned your fee in full. Once I turn this tape over to the production company, you’ll have seventy-five hundred dollars coming to you, and you don’t have to do anything else to get it.”

  “How are they going to make the commercial without me? Hal wants me to call him tomorrow when I get to the production company, just to make sure everything is okay.”

  “Not to worry, kid. I’ve got that covered too.”

  * * * * * *

  Chapter 7

  The production company is calling. They don’t know it yet, but the plan is proceeding perfectly.

  “Mister Sharp, this is Nick at Volcano Productions. I’m afraid there’s been some mix-up with the casting. A girl came in here and handed me your card, telling me to call you. She says she’s supposed to star in the commercial. Is that correct?”

  “That’s right, Nick. Just to put your mind at ease, here’s what I want you to do. Dial your sponsor’s number on a cell phone and then give the phone to your star. She’ll talk to him for a couple of minutes, and then she’ll give the phone back to you. At that time, Mister Belsky, your sponsor, will personally let you know that she’s approved for the job. That way, there’s no responsibility on your part: you’re just following orders.”

  “Okay Mister Sharp, but just between you and me, she wouldn’t be my first choice for the part.”

  About a half hour later Nick calls me again.

  “I don’t believe it Mister Sharp. I did exactly what you told me to do. I called Mister Belsky’s private line, and he answered. I know it was him because I recognized his voice. Then I told him that his star had arrived and he asked to speak to her. I handed her the phone, and she walked off to a corner of the room and started to sweet-talk him on the phone. I worked on a couple of porno films when I was first getting started in this business, but I never heard a conversation like that before. When she handed the phone back to me, it sounded like Mister Belsky was out of breath, but he definitely confirmed the fact that she was the female he wanted to star in this commercial.”

  “That’s great, Nick. As they say in the business, break a leg.”

  *****

  It’s now almost a month later and the newscasts are buzzing about a new sports car that’s being introduced and how it will premier at Belsky’s Beverly Hills Auto Mart. The promotion calls for the releasing of a television commercial that will coincide with the debut of the new car, a mock-up of which is now sitting in Belsky’s showroom completely covered by a tarp. There is a cable coming down from the ceiling attached to the tarp. It looks like P.T. Belsky will be there to press a button and raise the tarp just as the commercial shows the real car is being driven into his showroom on ‘premiere’ night.

  From what the newscasts show, the hour is rapidly approaching, and quite a crowd is outside his dealership, looking at the draped mock-up of the car, and waiting for the commercial to be shown on a group of large television screens that were installed for the onlookers.

  Nick calls from Volcano Productions. “Hi Mister Sharp, I just wanted to make sure you received that fifteen-thousand-dollar check sent out for the star’s appearance.”

  “Yes Nick, it arrived this afternoon. I guess you got paid for your company’s work too?”

  “Oh yeah. We never release the finished product until we receive the last payment for the assignment. I guess you know that tonight’s the night. They’re airing the commercial on all the major channels in this market, at five minutes to eight this evening. Those spots will also show on the large screens that the client has at his dealership.”

  “Yes Nick, I know. As soon as the spot has aired there’ll be some sort of fanfare, and Mister Belsky will push a button that lifts up the tarp that’s covering up the mock-up car, that will be pulled away and replaced by the real thing as your star drives it into the showroom.

  “I hope he doesn’t mind, Mister Sharp, but we had to make some slight changes to the beginning of the shooting script allow for some technical problems. The rest went along just as planned, including the slight difficulty we had while shooting some establishing shots outside at the dealership.”

  While we’re on the phone, the first hour of prime time shows is finishing up, and at exactly seven fifty-five I see that Hal’s commercial is starting to roll. The entire screen fills up with text informing the viewing public that what they’re going to see is something they’ve never seen before.

  “Nick, the commercial is going to start in a couple of seconds, so why don’t you hang on the phone for the two minutes while it runs and let me watch it. I’m sure you’ll want to view it too, to see the crowd reaction at the dealership.”

  I put the phone down on the table, sit back, and get ready to watch real creativity at work. I hope the kid sees this.

  As planned, the commercial starts out with an announcer’s voice-over that hawks the advantages of the new car, while the screen shows the first model slowly moving down the production line towards the last station, where it will be polished and driven out to the parking lot.

  We hear how wonderful the car is, how great the mileage is, and a lot of other propaganda about safety, handling, reliability, yada yada. A worker gets in the car and drives from the last production point towards a large open door.

  The next thing we see is a view from outside as he drives through the car factory’s parking lot. We see the rear of the car as it starts to drive away. Strangely, the car seems to be tilting over on the driver’s side. We are told that the car has been turned over to its spokesperson and she will be driving all the way to Beverly Hills. We see the female spokesperson’s long hair waving in the wind as she rides away, and while some romantic music is being softly played in the background, we hear her sexy voice telling us how wonderful it is to be in this car.

  Next shot is under some classical romance musical theme and we see the car off in the distance, heading toward us. It must be several miles away, but as it starts to get closer, we can see more clearly that it still does lean over, as if the tires on the driver’s side of the car have been partially deflated, and the passenger side of the car is up higher off the ground.

  As the car gets closer and we hear more sensual dialogue presumably from the driver, we see that behind the wheel is a person that from far away closely resembles a huge Miss Piggy, of Muppet fame.

  The next shot is from a camera car that is driving in front of the sports car, allowing the car to slowly approach and close the distance from about a quarter mile to only five or ten feet, and we see that stuffed into the driver’s seat is none other than April May, our five-hundred pound client. I hear a yelp of laughter and a bark coming from the forward stateroom. Good. They’re watching it too.

  When the little car gets close behind the camera car, you can actually see the beads of perspi
ration streaming down April’s face.

  I hear roars of laughter coming out of my cell phone, as it sits on the coffee table next to me. It must be the crew at the production company, also watching this commercial.

  The next scene is of April driving the car onto Hal’s lot. Seeing her in that car looks a lot like ten pounds of something stuffed into a five-pound bag. The car is noticeably tilting over under her massive weight as it pulls into the showroom.

  Another condition about Olive supposedly agreeing to be in the commercial is that on the afternoon when they shot this scene, that Hal wouldn’t be there. He agreed, so this is the first time he’s seeing his star.

  She drives onto the showroom, and the drape is lifted up revealing the mock-up, which is quickly pulled out of the way to make way for the real thing. Once the car comes to a stop on the showroom floor, April does her best imitation of Meg Ryan’s famous ‘orgasm’ scene from the movie When Harry Met Sally. After her last moan, she releases the door latch, and the little door flies open with such force that it actually pops off one of its hinges and then limply swings back and forth a few times until coming to rest.

  The next few seconds are a side-splitting attempt she makes to get out of the car. When April finally succeeds in getting her frame most of the way out from behind the wheel, she uses the steering wheel as support to lift herself the rest of the way out. At this point, we can clearly see that the steering wheel frame is being pushed down with such force that it actually bends, and we can hear the metal straining as the column is now in a permanently downward position, having been forced that way by April’s weight.

  Now almost out from behind the driver’s seat, April loses her balance and reaches over toward the car, resting her hand on the outside rearview mirror, which promptly falls right off of the car, as if it was being held on by bubble gum. It makes a wonderful crash sound as it lands on the showroom floor and shatters. As April tries to steady herself, she reaches over and grabs onto the radio antenna, which gets pulled out of its socket by the force of her leaning on it. When it comes out of its molding, it takes a portion of the fender with it.

 

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