Voice of the Heart (17 page)

After a while he felt more composed, and he started to check the figures in front of him, but he had no sooner begun on the second column than a loud knocking on the door disrupted the silence. Surprised, he looked up and frowned. That’s the fastest room service I’ve ever had in this hotel, he thought, striding to the door. He jerked it open, and his jaw dropped.

Nicholas Latimer was standing there, propped up against the door frame, grinning from ear to ear.

‘Sooner than I think indeed!’ Victor exclaimed huffily, glaring at Nick. But his mouth began to twitch with laughter.

‘I know, don’t say it! I’m a bastard and a childish one at
that, pulling this asinine trick on you,’ Nick declared. They grasped hands and embraced roughly, and Victor said, ‘Well, don’t stand there, you clown. Come on in.’

‘I took the first plane from Paris this morning. I just checked in a while ago,’ Nick said, his wide grin intact. ‘When I called you I was already in the suite down the hall, as you’ve probably guessed. Couldn’t resist it, kid.’ He ambled into the sitting room and glanced around. ‘Mmmm. Not bad. I like this better than the other suite you had, it’s more your style.’ Nick lowered his long, lanky frame into the nearest chair, slumped down into it, and threw a manilla envelope onto the coffee table with casual grace. ‘I tried to call you last night, but you were out. So—’ He shrugged. ‘Well, I decided to fly in. I thought I’d surprise you.’

‘You succeeded. And I’m glad you’re here. I just ordered coffee. Do you want some? How about breakfast?’

‘Just coffee. Thanks, Vic.’

Victor went to the telephone and Nick stood up and took off his sports jacket. He draped it over the back of a chair and sat down again. His icy-blue eyes, usually twinkling and full of mischief, were contemplative, and the grin that gave his boyish face a puckish quality, was missing. He looked across at Victor, and his face softened with fondness. He had been right to pack up in Paris and come to London. This was too important to discuss on the telephone. And two heads are infinitely better than one in this kind of situation, he thought. He lit a cigarette and stared at the burning tip, wondering how Victor would receive the news he was about to impart. With equanimity? Or would his Latin temperament get the better of him, as it sometimes did when he was thwarted. Of course, Victor would be angry, and with good reason, but he had a reservoir of self-control and the ability to sheath his emotions when he so wished. Nick decided it could go either way.

Victor sat down opposite Nick, his eyes focused on the envelope.
‘Is that the second draft of the screenplay?’ he asked.

‘It sure is, kid. It’s more or less finished. I have a few changes to make on the last six pages, but I can do that tomorrow. In the meantime, it’s all yours. You can read it later.’ He fell silent, drawing on his cigarette. ‘I came in a couple of days earlier than I’d planned because I wanted to talk to you,’ he said finally.

Recalling Katharine’s words on the previous evening, Victor said, ‘You’ve heard of the telephone, haven’t you?’ He smiled at Nick. ‘Don’t answer that. Obviously you have something important to say, or you wouldn’t be here. Not with Natalie stashed in Paris. Or did you bring her with you?’

‘No. She’s not in Paris either. She had to go back to the Coast to start her new picture. She left in the middle of this past week.’ Nick eyed the rolling cart holding bottles of liquor and soft drinks. ‘I don’t think I want coffee after all. I’d prefer a drink. How about you?’

Victor peered at his watch. ‘Why not. The pubs are now officially open, so I might as well start pouring. What do you want? Scotch or vodka?’

‘Vodka with some tomato juice. And fix yourself a stiff drink. I believe you’re going to need it.’

Victor, who was half-way to the bar, swivelled, staring hard at Nick. He said carefully, ‘Oh.
Why?
’

‘I’ve given you the good news about the screenplay.’ Nick attempted a smile, but it faltered instantly. ‘But we’ve got a problem. A really serious problem.’

‘Let’s have it.’ Victor picked up the bottle of vodka and proceeded to make Nick’s drink.

‘Mike Lazarus is in Paris—’

‘Lazarus! But I spoke to him only last Wednesday and he was in New York,’ Victor cried. He carried the drinks back to the seating arrangement in front of the fireplace, and sat down.

‘Maybe so. But right now he’s well ensconced in the Plaza-Athénée.’ Noting the surprise registering on Victor’s face, Nick exclaimed heatedly: ‘You should know what he’s like by now, Vic! When you’re the president of a multinational corporation, as he is, you’re ubiquitous. And he thinks nothing of hopping onto that private plane of his and hitting the sky as casually as though he’s driving down the Los Angeles freeway.’ He lifted his glass. ‘Cheers.’

‘Down the hatch.’ Victor fixed his eyes tightly on Nick. ‘I have the oddest feeling you’re about to tell me Lazarus is on the war-path. About the picture. So what? I’m ready for him. And I’ve told you before, I can deal with him. Believe me, I really can.’

Nick raised his hand. ‘Wait, Vic. Just hear me out, please. You’re right. Lazarus is on a rampage. He’s also heading for London—’

‘How come you’re so well informed about Lazarus? And what he’s up to? How do you know so much?’

Nick said slowly, choosing his words with care, ‘You know, life is full of surprises, and it can be awfully ironic. Do you remember Hélène Vernaud, the Dior model I used to date?’

‘Sure. The tall brunette with the stunning figure and the great legs.’

Nick could not resist laughing. Trust Victor to remember a beautiful girl. ‘Let’s forget about her figure. She happens to be a graduate of the Sorbonne and the London School of Economics, and she is extremely astute. In fact, she’s a hell of a lot smarter than most people I know. Anyway, as you know, we remained friends after we split up, and I called her when I got to Paris three weeks ago. We had lunch, a few laughs remembering old times, and all that jazz. Halfway through lunch she asked me what I was writing. I told her I was doing the screenplay of
Wuthering Heights
. For you. She immediately became tense and strained, even a little agitated, much to my amazement.
She then blurted out that she knew something about the picture because she was involved with its main backer, Mike Lazarus. To tell you the truth, I was floored. But, not to digress. Hélène begged me not to mention our lunch. Apparently Lazarus is very jealous and keeps her on a tight rein.’ Nick stood up. ‘I need another Bloody Mary. Can I fix you a Scotch?’

Victor declined, then asked, ‘What’s a beautiful, bright, high-class girl like Hélène doing with that slimy snake-in-the-grass Lazarus?’

‘God knows.’ Nick returned to his chair. ‘In any event, I promised her she could rely on my absolute discretion, should I have the misfortune to be in Mike Lazarus’s company in the near future. We finished lunch in a more relaxed manner, and that was that. Natalie flew in from Hollywood for a few days, and I forgot all about Hélène and her involvement with Lazarus. Until yesterday morning. She called me from her mother’s apartment, sounding very secretive and nervous, and asked me to meet her there within the hour. I didn’t know what it was all about. Obviously. But I think enough of Hélène to trust her judgment. I’m glad I do. Last Friday she was having dinner with Lazarus in his suite at the Plaza-Athénée, when he received a call. It was either from New York, or the Coast, Hélène wasn’t sure—’

‘And she heard something of importance about the picture, is that it?’ Victor interrupted.

‘Yep.’

‘Look, I don’t want to throw aspersions on Hélène’s veracity, or whatever, but I hardly think a man like Mike Lazarus is going to discuss important business in front of a girl friend. He’s secretive and paranoid, among other things.’

‘I agree with you. And perhaps someone less bright than Hélène would not have been able to put two and two together and make six. It was all pretty cryptic. However, a number
of things he said led her to believe he was referring to us, and our picture, although he didn’t actually mention any names.’

‘Then how can she be so sure?’ Victor demanded, giving Nick a doubtful stare, one brow lifting.

‘Because he had some scathing things to say about a screenplay by an esoteric novelist who is also a Rhodes Scholar, to quote Hélène quoting him. He was also extremely disparaging about a movie star who thought he was a producer, who was suffering from
la folie des grandeurs
. Again, that’s a direct quote. It
has
to be us, Vic.’

Straightening up in the chair, Victor said, ‘O.K. I’ll grant you that. Now shoot. Give it to me straight.’

Nick took a deep breath. ‘He wants a new script by another writer. He won’t approve of an unknown actress playing the female lead. He thinks the budget is astronomically high. He discussed that at great length, by the way, with whoever was on the other end of the line. Hélène distinctly heard him say he thought it was padded, that three million dollars couldn’t be justified, couldn’t possibly show up on the screen. He seemed to think, from the tenor of his conversation, that he was about to be bled dry and robbed blind. Finally, he said he was going to remove the producer if he didn’t toe the line, and make him do what he did best.
Acting.
’

‘The son of a bitch!’ Victor exclaimed quietly, and his black eyes flashed dangerously. ‘What makes him think he can take over
my
film without so much as a by your leave! A project I’ve worked on for almost a year!’

Nick said evenly, ‘Because he has unmitigated
chutzpah
and also because he’s holding the cheque book. That’s why he thinks he can take over. And you know it.’

Victor gazed at Nick silently. Then he nodded, and after a long moment, he said, ‘Lazarus is correct about the budget, Nicky. It
is
too high. Mind you, it’s not padded. Merely erroneous.’ He glanced at the desk. ‘I’ve been sitting there
all morning, cutting production costs.’ He related the conversation he had had with Jake Watson the previous evening, and went on, ‘I’m trying to bring the picture in at two million dollars.’

‘That ought to more than satisfy Lazarus,’ Nick said. ‘But there’s still the question of the script, and your position as producer—’

Cutting in, Victor said, with unusual sharpness, ‘Lazarus knows he cannot, and I repeat
cannot
, remove me as producer under any circumstances, however much screaming he does. He’s obviously trying to pull one on. And as the producer I have the final word on the script, and Lazarus knows that too.’

‘Even so, I honestly think he’ll give you trouble about casting an unknown in the Catherine Earnshaw role.’ Nick stopped, wondering uncertainly whether or not he should go on, and then he plunged in: ‘Listen, Vic, perhaps that
is
a bad idea. I know you can carry the picture yourself, that you don’t need any other big-name stars backing you up, but maybe Lazarus does have a point. Why even bother to test Katharine Tempest? Why don’t you give the part to an established movie actress, and save yourself additional problems with Lazarus?’

Victor shook his head. ‘No, Nicky. I’m testing Katharine.’

Nick observed him closely, and noting the adamant set of his jawline, he refrained from comment. He wondered to himself if Victor and Katharine were romantically involved, and quickly dismissed the idea as highly unlikely. But even if they were, the days of the casting couch were long since gone. Besides which, Victor was too shrewd, too tough and too much of the businessman to fall into that dangerous trap. He wouldn’t take any chances with his career, or his money, for a quick fling with a passing fancy. Notwithstanding, Nick was curious. ‘Why are you so keen on testing her?’

‘Because I gave her my promise, and because in a way she has earned it. Of course, there’s another reason, the most
important reason of all. I just happen to believe she would be perfect in the part. There’s a kind of wildness in her, a fire, that reminds me very much of Cathy in
Wuthering Heights
. I think she would be as good as Merle Oberon in the role, perhaps even better. It strikes me Katharine Tempest has a lot more vivacity and spirit. If she tests the way I hope she will, I’m going to put her in the picture, and to hell with my backers, whoever they are.’ Victor’s mood changed abruptly, and he gave Nick a smile that hinted at his satisfaction. ‘I’m also going to sign her to a contract with Bellissima Productions. You see, I have a sneaking feeling Katharine Tempest is going to be a big star one day, although I wouldn’t say that to anyone else but you until after I’ve seen the test. Look, trust me. I know what I’m doing. From the very first moment I met Katharine I have felt that she has that—that indescribable thing, that IT. Charisma. Star quality. Whatever you want to call it. If she can project this quality to the camera, and I hope she can, then she’s home free. She’ll be very, very big. If she can’t—’ He pursed his lips regretfully. ‘Well, she’ll go on being a brilliant actress. On the stage.’ Now he chuckled, his eyes merry. ‘I don’t know why you haven’t spotted this quality in her yourself.’

‘As a matter of fact, I have. But—’ Nick’s voice trailed off and he lifted his shoulders in a weary gesture. ‘Look, Vic, I have to repeat that Lazarus will never go for the idea of an unknown actress in this role, however good she is. He seems hell bent on getting a big female movie star to play opposite you. You know something else? I have a strong suspicion he’s going to arrive in London before you can blink. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if he’s here already.’

Victor rose and poured himself another Scotch. ‘I might as well tell you, I’ve been seriously thinking of dumping Lazarus.’ This was uttered with casualness, indifference even, and he looked unconcerned. ‘In fact, the thought’s been hovering at the back of my mind for a couple of weeks. He’s an autocratic, interfering bastard. A megalomaniac.
And just because he runs a giant multinational corporation doesn’t mean he knows how to produce a movie, although he undoubtedly believes he does. But he’s a rank amateur in our business. It has struck me innumerable times lately, and quite forcibly, that I’m letting myself in for a lot of headaches if I take him into Bellissima Productions. Or rather, let him invest in the picture. I’m sorry I ever got involved with him, to tell you the truth. And what I’ve just heard from you makes me more wary than ever. I think I have to lose him, and quickly.’