IX
While I was playing the role, or, many roles, in pursuit of Laura Demme’s trail, I’d gotten a text summoning me to a meeting with Miss James. Maybe this was it. Maybe the friend had returned and all was well. Maybe she wanted to run away with me to the Amalfi Coast. Maybe she had re-read the article and wanted to hang me by my fingernails someplace. Whatever it was I drove to the Chateau posthaste.
The concierge welcomed me like I wasn’t just some peon, walked me out to the arched arcade.
“Miss James,” he said. “Mister Gamble here to see you.”
I walked around the corner to find myself standing before Natalie James. Mother, manager, protectrix. How had I not seen this coming?
The concierge left me to my devices and scurried off.
“Hey. Hi,” I said, reeling, “Hunter Gamble.”
“Yes I know, Mister Gamble. Please sit down. Would you like something?”
There was a pitcher of martinis next to her. It was almost eleven. Meh, I ordered a scotch and soda and lit a cigarette, flopping down into the wicker chair.
“So,” Natalie said, launching right in, “my daughter hired you — “
“Well, see,” I said, interrupting, “‘hired’ implies payment, and in today’s economic climate I’ve found that with job security almost nonexistent, that employers — “
“What is your agreement with her then?”
“I don’t think I’m gonna talk… forgive me, but I don’t think I’ll discuss it… with you.”
“You don’t?”
“No?” My drink arrived. Was I… enjoying this bit of rough-stuff badinage? Another day, another perversion discovered, I guess.
“Well, then let me explain my position,” Natalie said. Casting her would have been a dream. Anjelica Huston, without a doubt. And, what a role. This powerful matriarch with a history. Lots of violence in her language but elegance all over her. Wow. Prizzi would be honored, I’d bet. “I have to oversee my daughter’s career,” she was saying, in a now unshakably Anjelica Hustonian manner, “make sure that she is making the right decision for herself, make sure that she is not taken advantage of — ”
“Wait. Are you suggesting — ”
“In other words, I have to be very careful.”
“Miss James, if you’ll excuse me. I’ve already told you I’m not being paid. What else are you trying to protect?”
“Dignity. Reputation.”
“I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”
“She’s a performer, you understand. She needs the attention, an observer — not someone entirely objective, mind. She is still an actress and she does want to feel those eye lashes a-flutter in her wake. But I’m afraid Sadie has merely hired you to watch her as she goes through the motions. You are an audience of one, an audience for a show that has now come to a close. As of this moment you can consider your arrangement with my daughter concluded.”
“Again, I’m afraid I’ll have to leave that up to her,” I said, and knowing an exit line when I hear one, I began to stand, but Natalie reached out with exquisite quickness, like a jungle cat, pawing my thigh. Her nails went through my slacks. I was sure there’d be blood.
“Mr. Gamble,” she said, cooler than ever. “Do you remember when writers in Hollywood were blacklisted for poking their noses where they didn’t belong?”
“Well, I’d…” Whatever, I thought, and picked up my still lingering drink, let’s see where this goes.
“‘Black-balled’ they called it. No one would touch them. Like lepers. Their names were simply wiped from the history books. An unfortunate result of their actions, don’t you think?”
I was beginning to like Natalie James.
