Chili didn’t say anything. He liked the way she was handling it. If she was pissed off you couldn’t tell.
“He knew I was gonna turn up here,” Harry said, “just from talking to you on the phone.”
“Why, what did I say?”
“Something about your voice. It was a feeling he had, a hunch. You want to hear his idea?”
Chili watched her. His feeling now was Karen’d say no and tell him to get the hell out of her house. But she didn’t say anything. Or Harry didn’t give her a chance.
“It’s about a guy,” Harry said, “who scams an airline out of three hundred grand. Go on, tell her.”
“You just did.”
“I mean the way you told it to me. Start at the beginning, we see how the story line develops.”
“Well, basically,” Chili said, “this guy owes a shylock fifteen thousand, plus he’s a few weeks behind on the vig, the interest you have to pay, on account of he doesn’t have it. The guy runs a drycleaner’s but spends everything he makes at the track.”
Chili could see Harry ready to cut in and let him.
“You understand what he means,” Harry said. “The guy borrowed money from a loan shark. It’s the kind of situation, you don’t pay you get your legs broken.”
“Or the guy thinks he could get ’em broken,” Chili said. “You have to understand the loan shark’s in business the same as anybody else. He isn’t in it looking for a chance to hurt people. He’s in it to make money. You go to him, you understand that, you’re gonna pay him every week. You don’t like that idea, you don’t have any business going to him.”
Karen said, “Yeah?” Telling him to go on.
“But you don’t make your payments,” Harry said, “you can get your legs broken, or worse.”
“It can happen,” Chili said, looking at Karen, “but it’s not, you know, the usual way. Maybe once in a while you hear about it.”
“If the guy doesn’t think it’s gonna happen to him,” Harry said, “you don’t have a story. That’s the only reason he gets on the plane, he’s scared to death, he’s running for his life.”
“That’s right,” Chili said, “the guy’s scared. I just meant he wouldn’t necessarily get his legs broken in that kind of situation, a few weeks behind. The guy doesn’t know any better, so he gets on the plane.”
“This’s Miami,” Harry said. “He’s going to Vegas. He’s got a few bucks and he’s thinking maybe it’s his only chance.”
“He gets on the plane,” Chili said, watching Karen’s eyes come back to him, “ready to go, and the plane sits there at the gate, doesn’t move. They announce over the PA there’s some kind of mechanical problem, they’ll be there maybe an hour, but keep your seats in case they get it fixed sooner. The guy’s nervous, in no shape to just sit there, sweat it out. So he gets off the plane, goes in the cocktail lounge and starts throwing ’em down, one after the other. He’s in there when the plane takes off . . .”
“Without him,” Harry said. “The guy’s so out of it he doesn’t even know it’s gone.”
“That’s right,” Chili said. “As a matter of fact, he’s still in the cocktail lounge when he hears people talking about a plane crash. But the shape he’s in, he doesn’t find out right away it’s the plane he was on. It didn’t gain altitude on account of something to do with the wind and went down in the Everglades, the swamp there, and exploded. Killed everybody aboard, a hunnerd and seventeen people counting the crew. Then when the guy finds out it was his flight, he can’t believe it. If he’d stayed on that plane he’d be dead. Right then he knows his luck has changed. If everybody thinks he’s dead he won’t have to pay back the fifteen or what he owes on the vig, four and a half a week. He’d be saving himself a pile of dough.”
Karen was about to say something, but Harry beat her.
“Not to mention saving his ass.”
She said to Chili, “The interest is four hundred and fifty a week on fifteen thousand?”
“That’s right. Three percent.”
“But a week,” Karen said. “That’s a hundred and fifty percent a year.”
“A hunnerd and fifty-six,” Chili said. “That’s not too bad. I mean some’ll charge you more’n that, go as high as six for five on a short-term loan.”
He watched her shrug without unfolding her arms.
“What the guy does,” Chili said, “is look in the Herald for his name on the list of victims. See, the way the plane exploded and went down in the swamp, they’re not only having trouble identifying bodies, they can’t find ’em all. Or a lot of ’em, they find like just parts of bodies, an arm . . . Others, they’re burned beyond recognition. So when the guy doesn’t see his name in the paper right away, he has his wife call the airline and say her husband was on that flight. What they do, they bring her out to the airport where they’re identifying bodies and going through personal effects, whatever wasn’t burned up. See, the guy’s bags were on the plane. Oh, the bodies they keep in refrigerated trucks right there in the hangar. They don’t show the wife any bodies, they tell her to get her husband’s dental chart from his dentist. She says Leo hasn’t been to a dentist for as long as they’re married. The guy’s name is Leo, Leo Devoe.”
Karen moved to lean against the doorjamb and Chili noticed she was barefoot. He wondered if she wore anything under that T-shirt she slept in.
“So what the wife does, she identifies stuff from Leo’s bags. Tells ’em what to look for and there it is, his monogrammed shirts, what kind of razor he used, things only she would know about. So Leo’s identified and gets his name in the paper. A couple days go by, people from the airline come to see the wife, tell her how sorry they are and all and offer her a settlement, the amount based on what he would’ve earned operating the drycleaner’s the rest of his life. Leo had some kind of trouble with his kidneys, so they were giving him about ten years.”
“Yeah, but wait,” Harry said. “The best part, the guy hadn’t even thought about a settlement, he’s so happy to get out from under the shylock. All of a sudden he realizes he can sue the airline, go for at least a million. It’s the loser’s grandiose dream, see, but now he’s pressing his luck . . .”
Karen said, “How much is the wife offered? . . .”
Chili started to tell her as Harry said, “Three hundred grand, and they take it, money in the hand, babe. The guy has his wife cash the check and he takes off for Las Vegas with the dough. Gets there, he’s supposed to call her, tell her when to come out . . . Wait, he does call her a couple of times.”
“Twice,” Chili said. “Basically stringing her along.”
“After that, nothing,” Harry said. “She never hears from him again. Meanwhile, the guy’s hot.
Runs the three hundred grand up to almost half a million . . .”
“He comes to L.A.,” Chili said, and stopped as Harry raised his hand.
“It drives the guy nuts, he’s winning but can’t tell anybody who he is. You show in a back story his motivation, his desire to be famous, pal around with celebrities, the headliners doing the big rooms. Now he’s got the dough to buy his way in, mix with celebs and he can’t resist the temptation. Even if it means he’s liable to be revealed as a fraud, and very likely shot dead by the shylock, he makes up his mind to go for it. Where else but Hollywood. That wouldn’t be a bad title, Go for It.” Harry said all this to Karen. Now he looked at Chili again. “So, he comes to L.A . . . .”
“I don’t know about his wanting to meet celebrities,” Chili said, “that’s something new. But, yeah, he comes to L.A. Then, after that, I don’t know what happens.”
He saw Karen waiting. She seemed patient, moved only that one time. He turned his head to see Harry looking at him, Harry saying after a moment, “That’s it? That’s your great idea for a movie?”