Karen turned to look at him. “Are you?”
“What’s he want? I’ll do it.”
“He wants Michael . . . But listen,” Karen said, “the way Harry’s acting, that’s his personality. To help him, you first have to break through this barrier he sets up—doing it his way, the independent producer, nobody knows anything but him. His last three pictures might’ve broken even, but didn’t do nearly as well as his early stuff. I tried to tell him. You know why? You haven’t kept up. If you’re going to do low budget exploitation you either have to go much heavier on the special effects, or you have to get outrageously campy, make pictures like Assault of the Killer Bimbos, Surf Nazis Must Die, Space Sluts in the Slammer—they’re so bad they’re fun. Or, you have to approach horror in a new and different way, like Near Dark, that I think is brilliant. A love story about a guy who falls for a vampire. But there’s not one scene in a dark empty castle, the vampire dressed like Fred Astaire in white tie and tails. These are raunchy vampires; they roam around this flat, empty farmland out west in a station wagon looking for blood, hurrying to get what they need and stay out of the sun or they’ll catch fire and burn up. It shows what it’s really like to be a vampire,” Karen said. “And I couldn’t get Harry to go see it.”
Chili sipped his vodka and not much tonic, glad Harry wasn’t here, comfortable in the cushioned patio chair, more impressed by Karen every time he talked to her. She wasn’t anything like Fay, but she’d understand Fay and could play her in a minute.
“You know all that stuff,” Chili said. “I don’t mean just what movies are about, but other things, the business.”
“I’ve been out here fifteen years and I pay attention,” Karen said. “Harry’s upset, and one of the reasons is my being offered a studio job. He said, ‘I don’t believe it,’ because he still thinks of me as the girl he hired with nice tits and a great scream. My dad teaches quantum physics at a university and my mother’s a real estate broker, has her own company and is incredibly successful; she has a super business mind. I’m not saying I follow after either one of them exactly, but I did-n’t come into the world on a bus to L.A. I have a background. I know more about the film industry now than Harry does because I keep up, I know what’s going on and I have good story sense. Elaine knows that, it’s why she wants to hire me.”
GET SHORTY 217
“You gonna take the job?”
“I’m thinking about it,” Karen said. “Meanwhile, poor Harry’s off trying to raise money, so he can hire a writer . . .”
Chili paused, about to sip his drink.
“. . . and get deeper in debt. That’s where he went, to talk to his investors.”
Chili said, “You mean the limo guys?”
“I know it’s the same ones he’s been trying to avoid. I said, ‘Harry, you told me you’ve been dying to get out from under them,’ and he said he didn’t have a choice.”
“He went to their office?”
“No, they’re meeting somewhere . . . Tribeca, it’s on Beverly Drive.”
Chili put his drink down. “Can we have dinner there?”
Karen said, “If you’d like,” and stared at him for maybe ten seconds before she said, “Harry’s a big boy,” and continued to stare as if wanting him to say something. “Isn’t he?”
Chili got up. He said, “You ready?”
They were in the big corner booth upstairs at Tribeca, Catlett, Harry, now the Bear sliding in and Catlett had to stop what he was saying to introduce his associate, this former movie stuntman, bodybuilder and health nut in the Hawaiian shirt. So what did the health nut do? Immediately dove into the bread basket and started eating rolls thick with butter, getting crumbs in his beard and all over the table in front of him. Now Harry, watching him, grabbed a roll for himself before they were gone. Harry was on his second Scotch, Catlett still sipping his ice-cold Pouilly-Fuissé. Harry had ordered the meatloaf, which Catlett liked the sound of, basic food, indicating the man was in a basic frame of mind and would not get tricky on him. Catlett had ordered the shrimp salad, not wanting to make this one his dinner; he’d have that later on at Mateo’s with people he liked, some cute woman who’d laugh at his wit and bullshit. The Bear ordered a beer— another simple soul—and would eat later, at home.
So far Catlett had explained once again he’d give Harry one hundred and seventy thousand dollars, interest and point free, pay it back when you can, for the privilege of working on Lovejoy and learning from the expert how moving pictures were made. Fringe benefits would come up later. All he wanted, Catlett had mentioned this time, was some kind of small credit up on the screen, head gofer, anything, his friends would get a kick out of seeing. Now then . . .
“I told you it was your boy, didn’t I, let me have the script?”
Harry didn’t know who he meant. “My boy? . . .”
“Chili Palmer, from Miami, Florida.”
“He gave it to you?”
“Loaned it. Was the other night in your office.”
Harry said, “Well, you say you read it,” not yet convinced.
“Ask me something.”
“All right, what’s Lovejoy’s brother-in-law’s name?”
“You mean Stanley? I was thinking it wouldn’t be bad if something happened to Stanley, the way he gets on your nerves. Even though as Lovejoy says to his sis, her and Stan have their own problems, being stuck with each other.”
GET SHORTY 219
Now the man couldn’t have a doubt in his head, just questions.
“Why’d he show it to you?”
“I thought maybe you told him to.”
“I sent him to pick up a script, that’s all.”
“Well, he called me, I went over. Man, I’ve been wondering why ever since. This town, you don’t want to go showing your ideas around. I know of a guy left a script in one of the limos and the producer fired him. I thought that was heavy. The producer—I won’t mention his name, one of the big power play-ers—he said if the guy wasn’t any more reliable than that he didn’t want him around.”
Catlett sipped his wine, giving Harry a minute to think about it and then took a shot saying, “I asked this Chili Palmer what his position was and he said you and him were partners, gonna produce the movie together. It surprised me, him coming in off the street and not knowing shit, you know, about the business. I noticed he didn’t even know how to read a script, what some of the directions meant. In fact, he’s talking about producing the movie with you, he hadn’t even read it. Man, that didn’t sound right to me.”
Harry picked up his roll and took a bite out of it like he was eating an apple, crumbs dribbling down the front of him. The Bear, spreading butter on his, paused to watch this.
“I don’t mean to sound like I’m sticking my nose in your business,” Catlett said, going at him again, “and if you don’t care to tell me, don’t. It’s just I’m curious to know what this Chili Palmer does for you.”
“Not much,” Harry said.
Good, starting to speak.
“He run errands for you?”
“He has different functions, you might say.”
“Kind of a tough guy, huh? That was how he came on,” Catlett said. “See, I suspected you had him around to do heavy work, deal with me and Ronnie, and that was something I couldn’t get straight in my head. What would you need him for? Has Ronnie ever given you any trouble? I know I haven’t. Ronnie might’ve shot off his mouth, but that’s Ronnie. Man, he’s from Santa Barbara and he’s gonna let you know it. Anyway, Ronnie isn’t in this deal— the one hundred and seventy thousand dollars I’m giving you as working capital in good faith. You’re gonna find out, Harry, I know more about movies than most people in the business. You watch me.”