The Last Don - Mario Puzo [18]
Bantz said, “If she torpedoes a hundred-million-dollar movie, she can never work again, did you tell her that?”
“She knows,” Stuart said.
Bantz asked, “Who’s the best person to talk sense into her? Skippy, you tried and failed. Melo, you did. Dita, I know you did your best. I even tried.”
Tommey said to Bantz, “You don’t count, Bobby. She detests you.”
Bantz said sharply, “Sure, some people don’t like my style but they listen to me.”
Tommey said kindly, “Bobby, none of the Talent likes you, but Athena doesn’t like you personally.”
“I gave her the role that made her a star,” Bantz said.
Melo Stuart said calmly, “She was born a star. You were lucky to get her.”
Bantz said, “Dita, you’re her friend. It’s your job to get her back to work.”
“Athena is not my friend,” Tommey said. “She is a colleague who respects me because after I tried to make her, I desisted gracefully when I failed. Not like you, Bobby. You kept trying for years.”
Bantz said amiably, “Dita, who the hell is she not to fuck us? Eli, you have to lay down the law.”
All attention was fixed on the old man, who seemed bored. Eli Marrion was so thin that one male star had joked he should wear an eraser on his skull, but this was more malicious than apt. Marrion had a comparatively huge head and the broad gorilla face of a much heavier man, a broad nose, thick mouth, yet his face was curiously benign, somewhat gentle, some even said handsome. But his eyes gave him away, they were cold gray and radiated intelligence and an absolute concentration that daunted most people. It was perhaps for this reason that he insisted that everyone call him by his first name.
Marrion spoke in an emotionless voice. “If Athena won’t listen to you people, she won’t listen to me. My position of authority won’t impress her. Which makes it all the more puzzling that she is so frightened over such a senseless attack by such a foolish man. Can’t we buy our way out of this?”
“We will try,” Bantz said. “But it makes no difference to Athena. She doesn’t trust him.”
Skippy Deere, the producer, said, “And we tried muscle. I got some friends in the police department to lean on him, but he’s tough. His family has money and political connections and he’s crazy in the bargain.”
Stuart said, “Exactly how much does the Studio lose if it closes down the picture? I’ll do my best to let you recoup on future packages.”
There was a problem about letting Melo Stuart know the extent of the damages; as Athena’s agent, it would give him too much leverage. Marrion did not answer but nodded to Bobby Bantz.
Bantz was reluctant, but spoke. “Actual money spent, fifty million. Okay, we can eat fifty million. But we have to give back the foreign sales money, the video money, and there’s no Locomotive for Christmas. That can cost us another . . .” He paused, not willing to give that figure, “and then if we add the profits that we lose . . . shit, two hundred million dollars. You’d have to give us a break on a lot of packages, Melo.”
Stuart smiled, thinking he would have to jack up his price for Athena. “But actually, in real cash put out, you only lose fifty,” he said.
When Marrion spoke his voice had lost its gentleness. “Melo,” he said, “How much will it cost us to get your client back to work?” They knew what had happened. Marrion had decided to act as if this was just a scam.
Stuart read the message. How much are you going to stick us up for on this little scheme? This was an attack on his integrity but he had no intention of getting on his high horse. Not with Marrion. If it had been Bantz, he would have been wrathfully indignant.
Stuart was a very powerful man in the movie world. He didn’t have to kiss even Marrion’s ass. He controlled a stable of five A directors, not strictly Bankable but very powerful indeed; two male Bankable Stars; and one female Bankable Star, Athena. Which meant he had three people who could assure a green light for any movie. But still