Box Office Poison (Linnet Ellery)
Page 29
“So what are we talking about here?” LeBlanc interrupted. “Quotas? Parts being carved out for the humans?”
“No,” I said.
“And if you would let Ms. Ellery finish, you would have the answer,” David said, vampire snark dripping off every word. The lawyer subsided.
“It has been clearly established that the Álfar ability does not manifest on the screen. Therefore, we feel that the way to alleviate this problem, and offer a fair competition for both human and Álfar actors, is to require that all Álfar auditions be filmed or taped, and that the audition tape be reviewed outside the presence of the Álfar actor by the people who will actually be casting the movie or television show.” I folded my hands on my notes and looked from face to face. “Whether SAG chooses to institute the same rule for human actors is up to that organization, but that is the judgment and conclusion of this arbitration.”
Brubaker was nodding sagely. McPhee had a crooked smile, and he shot me a subtle thumbs-up gesture. LeBlanc and Missy and Palendar and Gabaldon had gone into a huddle, and Jeff was on his feet, giving me his thousand-watt smile. Brubaker and McPhee whispered to their clients, then McPhee rose to his feet and said, “This proposal meets with my client’s approval.”
“And mine,” Brubaker added.
Gabaldon looked up. “Ms. Ellery, might my client and I have a private conversation with you?”
“We’d like to speak privately too,” LeBlanc quickly popped up.
David and I exchanged glances and nods. David went off with LeBlanc and Missy to his office, and I took Gabaldon and Palendar into a smaller conference room. Palendar started to pace, but gave a gasp, pressed an arm against his side, and sank down into a chair.
“Ms. Ellery, if you had brought us this proposal a week ago, I would never have agreed to it,” the Álfar said. His light tenor was like a song in the room. “But after the events at the Academy Awards—” His voice broke slightly. He coughed and continued. “When I once again had control of my own mind I looked at what had happened—what I had done; what I had been forced to do—and I realized this was different only in degree then what I was doing in auditions. I hurt people who are my friends and colleagues. Who knows if they’ll ever accept me, or any of the Álfar again? Now that they’ve seen an example of our power they’ll never trust us unless we make the first move. I’d like to take this back to the other Álfar members of SAG and present your proposal. I think there will be overwhelming agreement.”
This was the longest string of words I’d ever heard out of Palendar, and I rethought my conclusion that he was stupid. This showed a lot of foresight, and a lot of class. I said as much to the Álfar actor. He gave me a sad and rather rueful little smile.
“Yes, well, but I’m not looking forward to it. Now I’m going to have to actually learn how to act.”
* * *
Chris Valada and I waited for Kerrinan in the reception area at the county jail. Through the bulletproof glass I could see the actor gathering up his possessions from the box. He was out of the orange jumpsuit, and his clothes hung on his slender frame. He had lost a lot of weight while in jail. He stuck his cell phone in his coat pocket, slipped on his Rolex watch, gathered up his keys and wallet. For a long time he stared down at the box, then he lifted out a gold wedding band and slid it on his finger. Finally he passed through the heavy doors to join us. He walked like a man carrying a heavy load.
“Your car is in impound. I’ll drive you over there,” Chris said.
“This doesn’t feel right,” was his response.
“What do you mean? Why?” his lawyer demanded.
The Álfar’s haunted eyes were locked on mine. “Because I did kill Michelle.”
“No,” I said. “You were the weapon. You’re no more to blame than a gun is to blame. It’s the person who uses the weapon, who pulls the trigger who’s guilty.”
“You’re kind to say so, but the fact remains: I killed my best friend and the love of my life. How do you live with something like that?” He gave me a wan smile. “But still, I thank you for what you did. At least I know I’m not crazy, and maybe someday I’ll forgive myself.”
I watched the lawyer and the Álfar walk out the door, and I wondered if the long years of an Álfar’s life would help to dull the guilt and ease the pain. Or would those years stretch out before him like a desert wasteland?
* * *
Now that the crisis was past I was able to concentrate on a private little mystery of my own. I had placed Vento in one of the sun pens to roll and bask in the sunshine. The rains of the past weeks were forgotten and it was eighty degrees. Just in time for me to finish and leave, the weather had finally matched my expectations. I took a breath and stopped stalling. It was time to get answers. I pulled out my phone and called Jolly.
“Linnet. My dear. Once again you are all over the news.”
“I got through twenty-seven years without this happening to me. I’d really love a return to anonymity.”
“I can understand.” There was a pause, then Jolly asked, “They’re not going to put down my horse for being a maddened killer, are they?”
“No, once they got a look at the dead guy’s rap sheet, and after what happened at the Oscars, my story suddenly got a whole lot more credible.”
“Good. I really didn’t want to try and spirit my horse across the border.”
“I’m betting Vento could get himself across the border,” I answered, but my tone wasn’t jocular, and Jolyon picked up the serious undercurrent in my voice.
“What are you saying?” he asked, sounding tense.
“That there’s something unusual about a horse that can figure out if he twists a clip he can fatigue the metal and cause it to break. Then slide open a door and run down a man.”
There was a nervous laugh from the other end of the line. “Ah, well, you know horses. They can get up to the darnedest things.”
“Jolyon, cut the crap. My phone didn’t purse-call you like you told David. If it had, there would have been a record in the calls-made section. It wasn’t there. There was the notice that I had a missed call from David while these goons were driving me up the freeway, but no indication you called. But you told David you heard horses and the sound of my voice and I was frightened. How did you do that, Jolly? How did you know I was in trouble.”
Now his tone matched mine in seriousness. “This is not a conversation to hold over the phone, Linnet. When you return to New York I promise I will give you some answers.”
“But—”
“No! Believe me, it’s better and safer this way.” And he hung up.
* * *
Jeff and Kate threw a farewell party for David and me. They included what Kate had dubbed the Scooby Gang so Merlin and Maslin, Hank, Parlan and the six Álfar were also present. Five of them had decided to stay in California—not in the Fey version of California but in the traffic jams of human LA. Parlan and Ladlaw would be flying back east with us. Ladlaw wanted to report to his queen about the events and accept whatever punishment she decided to mete out. I already hated the woman for what she had done to John, and this just intensified the feeling.
There had been pretty much wall-to-wall press. I had tried to duck most of the interviews, and David was his usual brusque and snotty self, refusing all interviews, but the Álfar eagerly embraced the notoriety, as did the twins and Parlan. I wanted to both bless and damn them all because they kept bringing me up and giving me the credit for figuring out what was about to happen and taking steps to prevent it. Of course it wasn’t all praise; there was some blame thrown around too.
The authorities castigated us for not coming to them with our suspicions, but most of the press were pretty blunt about asking them if we would have been believed. The answer was a lot of hemming and hawing. What did make me happy was that all these interviews showed humans and Álfar working together to prevent a tragedy. And another happy result was that polling on the Human First proposition showed a significant drop
in support.
So now we were all out on the terrace overlooking the Pacific while the sun sank slowly toward the rolling waves. Jeff was turning steaks on the gas grill in their outdoor kitchen, and Merlin was mixing up a pitcher of margaritas while Kate tossed a big salad. Everyone seemed a little giddy. I sat on the wicker love seat and nursed a glass of red wine. Even with the propane heaters it was chilly on the deck, but nobody wanted to move inside as evening came on. The smell of cooking meat and sea air was lovely. I shivered and felt hands arranging a suit jacket over my shoulders. I looked up and back to see David. He had given me his coat.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He joined me on the love seat.
“You seem pensive,” he said.
“No, just thoughtful.” I took a sip of wine.
“Want to share some of them?”
“They’re pretty inchoate, but I’ll try.” I tucked my legs up under me to sit cross-legged, facing David. “I enjoy working for IMG—”
“I hear a but in there.”
I shook my head. “No, I guess I just really enjoyed building a team that combined both humans and powers. I’d like to continue that. I’d like to find a way to practice law that builds consensus between all of us rather than makes us adversaries.”
“Even the hounds?” David asked with a sly note in his voice.
“Yes, even the werewolves. I admit I haven’t had the best luck dealing with them so far. There was that asshole in that divorce case and, of course, Deegan.”
David touched the ropey scars on his face. “Yes, I’d call trying to kill you more than a spot of bad luck.”
“But Brubaker was a good lawyer, and my father’s stock broker is a hound, and Jeff really likes his agent. Really there’s nothing intrinsically good or bad about any group of people. It always comes down to the individuals, doesn’t it?”
He looked down at his clasped hands, glanced over at me, and then looked away. “You are a rather unusual person, Linnet Ellery. Did you know that?” But he abruptly got up and walked away before I could answer.
“You are a very strange human, Linnet.”
Qwendar’s words echoed in my mind. I shivered, then Jeff sang out,
“Chow time!” and people began gathering up plates and forming a line at the grill while David leaned against the stone wall of the terrace. I shook off my sudden chill, and joined my friends.
About the Author
PHILLIPA BORNIKOVA has been the story editor of a major network television series, a horse trainer, and an oil-company executive. She lives in the Southwest.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
BOX OFFICE POISON
Copyright © 2013 by Melinda Snodgrass
All rights reserved.
Cover photographs by Getty Images
A Tor Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
175 Fifth Avenue
New York, NY 10010
www.tor-forge.com
Tor® is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.
The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:
Bornikova, Phillipa.
Box office poison / Phillipa Bornikova.
pages cm
“A Tom Doherty Associates book.”
ISBN 978-0-7653-2683-6 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-4299-4890-6 (e-book)
1. Motion pictures—Fiction. 2. Motion picture actors and actresses—Fiction. 3. Women lawyers—Fiction. 4. Vampires—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3602.O765B79 2013
813'.6—dc23
2013015151
e-ISBN 9781429948906
First Edition: August 2013