Murder on the Yellow Brick Road (19 page)

BOOK: Murder on the Yellow Brick Road

7.77Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Read Book Download Book

ads

“You working here full time now?” he asked.

“No,” I said, “just temporary.”

“Too bad,” he said grinning, “it's a classy dump.”

The tall man with him said nothing. Rooney bounced away smiling. It was a classy dump.

The blonde led me through the door and turned me over to the redhead; then to the second blonde, who led me into Mayer's office. He was talking to a woman in a grey suit about redecorating the office. I thought it was a good idea, but I didn't say so. I sat in the same comfortable white chair without being asked and waited.

“I want it to stand out and yet be subtle,” he told the woman, who nodded to indicate she understood.

When she left, Mayer came around the table, and I stood up. He pumped my hand a few times and looked into my eyes.

“Words can hardly express how much I appreciate what you've done, Mr. Peters,” he said.

“Words and cash,” I said. “I've been paid, and I've been thanked.”

“Do you know who was just in here?” said Mayer. “Mickey Rooney. He's a good lad, a little excitable, but a good boy. This studio has a reputation for good, wholesome entertainment, and you've helped to keep our image clean.”

He was overdoing it, but that was his style when he wanted something. I'd learned that from my last trip into the huge chamber. I had nothing left to give him, and I couldn't imagine Louis B. Mayer holding me up for a kickback from 400 bucks.

“So,” he said, “how would you like to become part of our organization?”

It was my second job offer of the day, but I turned it down. I'd worked security for Warner Brothers for enough years to know I wouldn't want to go back to it. It had the same drawbacks as being a cop with none of the advantages except slightly higher pay.

Mayer hadn't really expected me to accept, and that wasn't what he had on his mind. I think part of his social interaction was to offer jobs to people he liked.

“It's been nice talking to you again, Mr. Mayer,” I said getting up, and he looked surprised. I guess people didn't walk out on him very often; they waited till he was finished.

“You're a pusher, aren't you?” he said standing behind his desk.

I shrugged.

“I've got a job for you,” he said. “A job for you in your own line.”

“Fifty a day and expenses if I take it,” I said quickly.

He brushed that away with his hand, and indicated that I should sit down. I sat and he leaned over his desk.

“How much do you know,” he whispered, “about the Marx Brothers?”

“Well, in a few minutes I shall be all melted, and you will have the castle to yourself. I have been wicked in my day, but I never thought a little girl like you would ever be able to melt me and end my wicked deeds. Look out â here I go!”

With these words the Witch fell down in a brown, melted, shapeless mass and began to spread over the clean boards of the kitchen floor. Seeing that she had really melted away to nothing, Dorothy drew another bucket of water and threw it over the mess. She then swept it all out of the door. After picking out the silver shoe, which was all that was left of the old woman, she cleaned and dried it with a cloth, and put it on her foot again. Then, being at last free to do as she chose, she ran out to the courtyard to tell the Lion that the Wicked Witch of the West had come to an end, and that they were no longer prisoners in a strange land.

L. Frank Baum, The Wizard of Oz

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook onscreen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

cover design by Jim Tierney

This edition published in 2011 by
MysteriousPress.com
/Open Road Integrated Media

180 Varick Street

New York, NY 10014

www.openroadmedia.com