Part Eight
For Part Seven, and links to all the earlier installments, please go to The Baseball Stand.
As Clem looked longingly at Josephine with watery eyes, he saw her face change from shock to pain. Her sobs grew louder and more anguished. And then she began to speak.
“How heartless of me! How could I forget …”
Josephine broke into a loud wail, no longer fighting her tears.
“What is it, baby? What’s wrong?” Clem said, inwardly cursing his bad luck.
“My God. I know why Melvin did it. I said it. I said it!”
Josephine began shaking violently.
“You know why Jimmy tried to kill you, babe? Let’s get the police here right away.”
“No, my God, no! No police. I’ll die if you call the police. That Hong Kong TV crew that was here earlier today—please tell me they haven’t left yet!”
“What in the world are you talking about, darling? I think you’re all shook up from that bad mojo in the desert.”
“Listen to me, you idiot. Where’s the Hong Kong TV crew?”
Far from desiring her, Clem was now beginning to fear the blood-smeared woman violently shaking her fist into his face.
“Calm down, sweetheart. You’re gettin’ your fake blood all over me. I don’t know why you care so much, but I think I saw that Hong Kong chick interviewing Blake Brock down by his trailer.”
Josephine Courtney stormed out of the trailer. She spied her costar, Blake Brock, flirting with a petite, well-dressed Chinese woman, who was standing almost on the tips of her toes to reach a microphone into his face.
Josephine wiped the tears from her cheeks with a grim determination. “I should have known Hector couldn’t keep his mouth shut,” she thought. “And he was always so trusting—probably thought Melvin Garrell was just as sweet and upstanding as a choir boy.”
Josephine strode past her astonished costar—and walked straight to the cameraman who was lounging a couple of yards away from the chatting couple.
“Show me that footage of our interview earlier today,” she demanded, ignoring his concerned gestures toward the large blood stain covering the front of her blouse.
“It’s fake blood. We’re in the movies, you know. Please, mister,” Josephine fought to keep back her tears, “I really got to see that interview.”
The man nodded and began to dig through his bag. Blake, looking worried, suggested they step into his trailer to watch the tape. He whispered into Josephine’s ear, “You better calm down, kid, and tell them this is just some weird American joke. You can’t afford something like this getting into the press.”
Josephine nodded robotically, but she couldn’t care about that right now. She just had to stop that tape from airing, or she knew she’d probably never give another interview again.
It seemed to take forever for the cameraman to cue the tape to her segment. Josephine looked around Blake’s trailer, so like her own, and she fought back a sudden revulsion. Before this moment, she had never noticed the dank, grim dirtiness of it all. She began to shake again when she saw her image from five hours ago appear on the grainy television screen.
“Hello, and welcome to Star Snapshots. I’m standing here with Miss Josephine Courtney, star of Clem Sydney’s new film, ‘Early Times at Midnight.’ Miss Courtney, tell me how it feels to be making a film with the hottest director in Hollywood …”
“It’s such a great honor to work with Clem, because I’ve always adored his artistry. And I think this role and his direction will allow me to show my audience a special side of me as an actor, maybe something they’ve never seen before.”
“And, Miss Courtney, the title, ‘Early Times at Midnight,’ does that have any special meaning for you.”
“Oh, it has hundreds of meanings for me. You see, Clem is such a meticulous craftsman. His films have so many facets, so many chances for an actor to show how deeply she feels the role. It could mean the love of a mother for her son, or the anger of hurting child … it could mean the blackness of a foreign heart …”
Josephine rushed frantically to the TV, pressed the eject button and grasped the tape. She looked around the room as if she expected one of the occupants to lunge at her at any moment.
“Is this the only copy?” she asked fiercely. “You haven’t transmitted this back to Hong Kong yet?”
“No, Miss Courtney,” the cameraman stammered, “We’ve been busy with interviews all day.”
Josephine let out a shriek of relief. She ran from the trailer with tape clutched to her breast, looking into every corner with fear in her eyes. “I’ve got to get out of here,” she thought, “It’s my only chance.”
With a thrill, she saw her yellow convertible parked behind her trailer. She smiled for the first time in hours as she sped down the barren desert road.
Chapter Five
“Hello.”
“Melvin, you bastard. You lying bastard.”
“I can’t talk right now, Josephine. I’m at Mrs. Horshore’s ball.”
“You’re damn sure you’re going to talk to me. You can’t kill poor Hector, try to kill me, and pretend it’s just a nice regular tea party.”
“Josephine, you made a big mistake. You should have never told that idiot a word. He came to me singing like a canary. He thought I’d call in the calvary and save poor dear innocent Miss Courtney from herself. If your friend, Mr. Arvil Jonesworth, hadn't tried to drug me, poor Hector would have had a much easier time of it.”
“I loved Hector. Oh, I made him promise me he wouldn’t tell a soul. Oh, dear, dear Hector.”
Josephine again began to sob.
“If you’ll pardon me, Miss Courtney, I’m a little surprised to be talking to you right now, also.”
Mr. Garrell’s cool professionalism immediately drove the tears from her eyes.
“I’ve got to hand it to you, Garrell, I would have never expected you to get to Jimmy.”
“Oh, he didn’t want to do it, he adored you. Poor thing thought his mother in Saskatoon was in danger. Don’t bother to look for him, by the way, he’s probably halfway to Santiago by now.”
“I’ve got bigger fish to fry than Jimmy Ogelsen, Mr. Garrell.”
“I don’t think you have much ground to stand on, Josephine. Be reasonable. What’s done is done. You can’t take it back now.”
“It’s interesting you’d say that, Melvin. I’m so cozy right here in front of this blazing fire. I really don’t want to drive up to the Okonomis.”
“That’s charming, very charming. Believe me, I don’t think you need to come to the Okonomis. I’ve got plenty of friends in L.A.”
“You’d better call off your friends in L.A. You’d better call off the whole operation. Right now. You see, I’m really enjoying this fire—in fact, I’m watching the last of it. It’s beautiful, really, the way it glows and curls in the flames.”
Melvin was growing tired of this cat and mouse. And he saw Agnes Horshore gesturing to him from across the crowded ballroom.
“If you’ve got something to tell me, Miss Courtney, please be on with it. I don’t care much for idle chatter.”
“I’m just wondering what your bosses will say—you damn mercenary—when they tune into Star Snapshot tomorrow and, somehow, someway, the interview with Josephine Courtney just doesn’t air.”
For once, Melvin lost his composure. “That’s not possible, Jimmy told me it was all in the can.”
“Well, Jimmy was wrong. That tape is a pile of ashes now. And if you want me to do it again, I’m going to need some guarantees.”
“On second thought, Miss Courtney, I’d love for you to come to the ball. How quickly can you make it to the Okonomis?”
Josephine laughed bitterly.
“I’m already out the door.”
To be continued on The Midlothian Campaign.
As Clem looked longingly at Josephine with watery eyes, he saw her face change from shock to pain. Her sobs grew louder and more anguished. And then she began to speak.
“How heartless of me! How could I forget …”
Josephine broke into a loud wail, no longer fighting her tears.
“What is it, baby? What’s wrong?” Clem said, inwardly cursing his bad luck.
“My God. I know why Melvin did it. I said it. I said it!”
Josephine began shaking violently.
“You know why Jimmy tried to kill you, babe? Let’s get the police here right away.”
“No, my God, no! No police. I’ll die if you call the police. That Hong Kong TV crew that was here earlier today—please tell me they haven’t left yet!”
“What in the world are you talking about, darling? I think you’re all shook up from that bad mojo in the desert.”
“Listen to me, you idiot. Where’s the Hong Kong TV crew?”
Far from desiring her, Clem was now beginning to fear the blood-smeared woman violently shaking her fist into his face.
“Calm down, sweetheart. You’re gettin’ your fake blood all over me. I don’t know why you care so much, but I think I saw that Hong Kong chick interviewing Blake Brock down by his trailer.”
Josephine Courtney stormed out of the trailer. She spied her costar, Blake Brock, flirting with a petite, well-dressed Chinese woman, who was standing almost on the tips of her toes to reach a microphone into his face.
Josephine wiped the tears from her cheeks with a grim determination. “I should have known Hector couldn’t keep his mouth shut,” she thought. “And he was always so trusting—probably thought Melvin Garrell was just as sweet and upstanding as a choir boy.”
Josephine strode past her astonished costar—and walked straight to the cameraman who was lounging a couple of yards away from the chatting couple.
“Show me that footage of our interview earlier today,” she demanded, ignoring his concerned gestures toward the large blood stain covering the front of her blouse.
“It’s fake blood. We’re in the movies, you know. Please, mister,” Josephine fought to keep back her tears, “I really got to see that interview.”
The man nodded and began to dig through his bag. Blake, looking worried, suggested they step into his trailer to watch the tape. He whispered into Josephine’s ear, “You better calm down, kid, and tell them this is just some weird American joke. You can’t afford something like this getting into the press.”
Josephine nodded robotically, but she couldn’t care about that right now. She just had to stop that tape from airing, or she knew she’d probably never give another interview again.
It seemed to take forever for the cameraman to cue the tape to her segment. Josephine looked around Blake’s trailer, so like her own, and she fought back a sudden revulsion. Before this moment, she had never noticed the dank, grim dirtiness of it all. She began to shake again when she saw her image from five hours ago appear on the grainy television screen.
“Hello, and welcome to Star Snapshots. I’m standing here with Miss Josephine Courtney, star of Clem Sydney’s new film, ‘Early Times at Midnight.’ Miss Courtney, tell me how it feels to be making a film with the hottest director in Hollywood …”
“It’s such a great honor to work with Clem, because I’ve always adored his artistry. And I think this role and his direction will allow me to show my audience a special side of me as an actor, maybe something they’ve never seen before.”
“And, Miss Courtney, the title, ‘Early Times at Midnight,’ does that have any special meaning for you.”
“Oh, it has hundreds of meanings for me. You see, Clem is such a meticulous craftsman. His films have so many facets, so many chances for an actor to show how deeply she feels the role. It could mean the love of a mother for her son, or the anger of hurting child … it could mean the blackness of a foreign heart …”
Josephine rushed frantically to the TV, pressed the eject button and grasped the tape. She looked around the room as if she expected one of the occupants to lunge at her at any moment.
“Is this the only copy?” she asked fiercely. “You haven’t transmitted this back to Hong Kong yet?”
“No, Miss Courtney,” the cameraman stammered, “We’ve been busy with interviews all day.”
Josephine let out a shriek of relief. She ran from the trailer with tape clutched to her breast, looking into every corner with fear in her eyes. “I’ve got to get out of here,” she thought, “It’s my only chance.”
With a thrill, she saw her yellow convertible parked behind her trailer. She smiled for the first time in hours as she sped down the barren desert road.
Chapter Five
“Hello.”
“Melvin, you bastard. You lying bastard.”
“I can’t talk right now, Josephine. I’m at Mrs. Horshore’s ball.”
“You’re damn sure you’re going to talk to me. You can’t kill poor Hector, try to kill me, and pretend it’s just a nice regular tea party.”
“Josephine, you made a big mistake. You should have never told that idiot a word. He came to me singing like a canary. He thought I’d call in the calvary and save poor dear innocent Miss Courtney from herself. If your friend, Mr. Arvil Jonesworth, hadn't tried to drug me, poor Hector would have had a much easier time of it.”
“I loved Hector. Oh, I made him promise me he wouldn’t tell a soul. Oh, dear, dear Hector.”
Josephine again began to sob.
“If you’ll pardon me, Miss Courtney, I’m a little surprised to be talking to you right now, also.”
Mr. Garrell’s cool professionalism immediately drove the tears from her eyes.
“I’ve got to hand it to you, Garrell, I would have never expected you to get to Jimmy.”
“Oh, he didn’t want to do it, he adored you. Poor thing thought his mother in Saskatoon was in danger. Don’t bother to look for him, by the way, he’s probably halfway to Santiago by now.”
“I’ve got bigger fish to fry than Jimmy Ogelsen, Mr. Garrell.”
“I don’t think you have much ground to stand on, Josephine. Be reasonable. What’s done is done. You can’t take it back now.”
“It’s interesting you’d say that, Melvin. I’m so cozy right here in front of this blazing fire. I really don’t want to drive up to the Okonomis.”
“That’s charming, very charming. Believe me, I don’t think you need to come to the Okonomis. I’ve got plenty of friends in L.A.”
“You’d better call off your friends in L.A. You’d better call off the whole operation. Right now. You see, I’m really enjoying this fire—in fact, I’m watching the last of it. It’s beautiful, really, the way it glows and curls in the flames.”
Melvin was growing tired of this cat and mouse. And he saw Agnes Horshore gesturing to him from across the crowded ballroom.
“If you’ve got something to tell me, Miss Courtney, please be on with it. I don’t care much for idle chatter.”
“I’m just wondering what your bosses will say—you damn mercenary—when they tune into Star Snapshot tomorrow and, somehow, someway, the interview with Josephine Courtney just doesn’t air.”
For once, Melvin lost his composure. “That’s not possible, Jimmy told me it was all in the can.”
“Well, Jimmy was wrong. That tape is a pile of ashes now. And if you want me to do it again, I’m going to need some guarantees.”
“On second thought, Miss Courtney, I’d love for you to come to the ball. How quickly can you make it to the Okonomis?”
Josephine laughed bitterly.
“I’m already out the door.”
To be continued on The Midlothian Campaign.
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