The Last Don - Mario Puzo [99]
“I want to be in the movie business for the long haul,” Cross said. “I want to work with LoddStone Studios. There’s money enough for everyone.”
Eli Marrion had been studying Cross all during the meeting, trying to come to an assessment. The man was very low key, not a bluffer or a bullshit artist. Pacific Ocean Security could not establish any real link with Athena, there was no likely conspiracy. A decision had to be made, but it was not really as difficult a decision as the people in this room were pretending. Marrion was so weary now he could feel the weight of his clothing on his skeletal frame. He wanted this to be over.
Skippy Deere said, “Maybe Athena is just nuts, maybe she’s gone over the edge. Then we can bail out with the insurance.”
Molly Flanders said, “She’s saner than anyone in this room. I can have all of you certified before you get her.”
Bobby Bantz looked Cross directly in the face. “Will you sign papers that you have no agreement with Athena Aquitane at this point in time?”
“Yes,” Cross said. He let his dislike for Bantz show.
Marrion, observing this, felt satisfaction. At least this part of the meeting was going according to plan. Bantz was now established as the bad guy. It was amazing how people almost instinctively disliked him, and it really wasn’t his fault. It was the role chosen for him to play, though admittedly it suited his personality.
“We want twenty percent of the profits of the picture,” Bantz said. “We distribute it domestic and foreign. And we will be partners in any sequel.”
Skippy Deere said in exasperation, “Bobby, they are all dead at the end of the picture, there can be no sequel.”
“OK,” Bantz said, “rights in any prequel.”
“Prequel, sequel, bullshit,” Molly said. “You can have them. But you get no more than ten percent of the profits. You’ll make a fortune on distribution. And you have no risk. Take it or leave it.”
Eli Marrion could endure no more. He rose, standing very straight, and spoke in a measured, serene voice. “Twelve percent,” he said, “We have a deal.”
He paused and then looking directly at Cross, he said, “It’s not so much the money. But this could be a great picture and I don’t want to scrap it. Also, I’m very curious to see what will happen.” He turned to Molly. “Now, yes or no?”
Molly Flanders, without even looking at Cross for a sign, said, “Yes.”
Later, Eli Marrion and Bobby Bantz sat alone in the conference room. They were both silent. They had learned over the years that there were things that must not be said aloud. Finally Marrion said, “There’s a moral question here.”
Bantz said, “We’ve signed to keep the agreement secret, Eli, but if you feel we must, I could make a call.”
Marrion sighed. “Then we lose the film. This man Cross is our only hope. Plus if he found out the leak came from you there might be some danger.”
“Whatever he is, he doesn’t dare touch LoddStone,” Bantz said. “What I worry about is letting him get a foot in the door.”
Marrion sipped his drink, puffed his cigar. The thin, woody-smelling smoke made his body tingle.
Eli Marrion was really tired now. He was getting too old to worry about long-term future disasters. The great universal disaster was closer.
“Don’t make the call,” he said. “We have to keep the agreement. And besides, maybe I’m getting into my second childhood, but I’d love to see what the magician pulls out of his hat.”
Skippy Deere, after the meeting, went back to his house and made a call summoning Jim Losey to meet with him. At their meeting he swore Losey to secrecy and told him what had happened. “I think you should put a surveillance on Cross,” he said. “You might find out something interesting.”
But he said this only after he had agreed to sign Jim Losey to play a small part in a new movie he was making about serial murders in Santa Monica.
As for Cross De Lena, he returned to Las Vegas and in his penthouse suite pondered the new course of his life. Why had he taken the risk? Most important, the winnings could