The stage manager and two gofers started putting together the sets, assembling three-sided bedrooms, arranging furniture in the living rooms according to the storyboards. Watching all the activity that went into just getting ready for a production always fascinated Rosie even though she’d seen it a thousand times. This morning though, she was on the set to solve a problem.
It had started with notes from the director that one of the male actors was abusing the women during the shoot, several of whom had quit. Rosie had never seen the problem actor; she’d enjoyed watching the sex when both actors were enjoying it. That happened seldom enough, there always seemed to be some kind of complication that involved multiple takes, something everyone hated.
The actors provided valuable revenue to the other part of the business, and she had to retain as many as possible. Most of them had no connections with the structured world, no friends outside the industry. Most were estranged from their families.
Simms had followed up on yesterday’s meeting, calling to make sure that Rosie had arrived on the set to take care of their “Italian problem.” But Rosie had her own plans.
It was her practice to work with the director and make sure that all scenes were scripted and shot based on a storyboard. There was no gratuitous sex, only as much or as little as the story demanded, or the director instructed.
It was easy for the man to get carried away while the woman was in a submissive position. During almost every sexual encounter, the man experienced orgasm while the woman didn’t. But Rosie knew that the men didn’t have it so easy either. They were required to retain an erection through several takes, surrounded by cameramen and lighting technicians.
Director Erin Von Seagram adjusted his headset. “Camera two zoom out and get a wide shot of Clovis undressing, we’ll use it for B-roll later.”
As director, he took it upon himself to keep track of personality conflicts that might interrupt the production. Shading his eyes, he scanned the sky. “Not a cloud in sight, perfect day for the outdoor shots,” he said. Occasionally, the actors didn’t want to follow the script and sometimes their suggestions were better, and he incorporated them into the scene.
Looking at the roster for the upcoming scene, Von Seagram knew there was probably going to be a problem.
Having just had a fight with his wife, Michael Lambrosco would enter the apartment of his mistress and they would then engage in vigorous sex. It was a simple scene. Von Seagram had double-checked the camera angles the night before. That’s when he noticed Michael would be the male lead, and decided to call the owner of Lewd and Lascivious. She was usually around the set, but he hadn’t seen her in a couple of days. When she didn’t answer her phone, he left a message.
He set up the cameras in preparation for the potentially volatile scene. The woman would be on all fours and Michael would enter her from behind.
“Alright, listen up. Camera one, camera two, this is to be a simple scene. Camera one, you’re looking the woman in the face; two, you’re on the profile. The scene will open with the mistress answering the door.”
As Von Seagram readied for the take, checking lighting and calling for quiet on the set, he quickly glanced around for Rosie, but she was nowhere in sight.
He picked up the loudhailer.“Quiet on the set… and… action!”
Looking through the viewfinder of the tracking lens that allowed him to see what the camera was seeing, he watched Michael enter the set and undress. The woman playing the part of the mistress was already nude and on the bed.
Rosie stepped out of the shadows to stand next to the director.
“I got your message,” she whispered in the director’s ear. “Is that him?”
Von Seagram nodded.
“Let me see the storyboard.”
He reached over to the clipboard sitting on a stool, looking at it as he handed it to Rosie.
“Calls for an all-fours, plain and simple, no ad-libs. She knows that and so does he,” said Von Seagram. He nodded toward the nude female on the set. “Most of the time I like the guys to ad-lib, the girls know that and go along with whatever the guy does. But not this time, not with this guy.”
Rosie took a minute to scan the various scenes on the storyboard. Looking up at the scene, the man was just entering the young brunette.
“Is that Michael?” Rosie said.
“Yeah, that’s him, Michael Lambrosco. Thinks he’s a real stud.”
Rosie watched as Michael worked like a jackhammer.
“See what I mean? Not just that he’s over the top but he’s messed up the scene. Look how he’s grabbing her hair, that’s not called for.”
He turned to Rosie. “Thank God she was oiled up. She must have known who her partner was going to be.”
“Thanks for the ride,” Michael said over his shoulder as he stepped from the scene.
“Hey fuck you,” she said, and stomped off the set. She pulled on her terrycloth robe, and confronted Von Seagram. “See what that son-of-a-bitch did to me? He coulda torn me up and that sure as fucking hell weren’t in my script. I’m outta here.”
She turned and walked away without giving him a chance to respond.
When Von Seagram looked over for Rosie’s response, she was gone. He looked down at the clipboard she’d been holding, and at a harshly scrawled message she’d left on the storyboard.
“You see that? Absolutely no gratitude,” Michael said shaking his head in mock concern. “Hey I hope you got the shot.”
“Give it a rest Michael, Rosie wants to see you in her trailer ASAP,” Von Seagram said.
Michael walked from the set, pulled on a terrycloth robe, paused to tighten it, then knocked on the trailer door. He was surprised to see the owner of the company answer the door in a similar robe.
“Ah, hey Miss Rehnquist. Von Seagram said you wanted to see me.”
“Yeah, thanks for coming so soon.” Rosie stepped back, inviting Michael to come in. “Can I offer you some coffee? Sorry I don’t have anything stronger.”
“Nah. That’s ok. I’m good.”
“Michael, let me get right to the point. You don’t stick to the script and I’m losing girls because of you,” Rosie said, as she set the little box she’d been holding on the coffee table.
“Well maybe I’m a little more then they can handle, if you know what I mean.”
Rosie retained her best stone face. “Oh, I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
Michael gave a silly grin. “Well, you know I’m Italian, right?” He gave a little thrust with his hips.
“Ok you’re Italian,” she said, keeping the blank look on her face.
“Like I said, maybe I’m more then they can handle.”
That was Rosie’s cue. She walked up to Michael and untied his robe. He never saw the syringe she held against her left wrist.
“Let’s just take a look.” She stood staring at his growing erection, letting her own robe fall off her shoulders. With Michael fully distracted, she reached out with her right hand as if to pull him into an embrace and thrust the needle deep into his neck.
Michael convulsed several times.
“You just scared the shit out of me, baby,” Rosie said, jabbing a second needle deep, filling the vein with pure heroin. “That’s for all the girls, you bastard.”
Michael’s eyes grew wide then slowly closed.
Chapter Fourteen
The vintage ambulance sped along the Oregon I-5 corridor north from Medford. No sirens, just a simple blue light spinning to keep the police away. If pulled over, all their papers were up to date and indicating the transport of an organ. Besides, police rarely pull over a speeding ambulance.