After another minute of reassurance he hung up, facing Ben again.
“A little crise de nerfs, ” he said lightly. “Still, that’s the business. I know, you’re going to make a documentary. Show us how ghastly it all was,” he said, affecting a shiver. “But that’s not the business. You know what it is, pictures? Attractive people. That’s all it’s ever been. So you want to look your best.” He put his hand to his head again, smiling slyly. “Keep your hair. Come on, I’ll show you Japan.”
They made it out of the building without another interruption, Bunny giving a running description as they went.
“That’s Payroll and Accounting. You’d get your check there, but I gather you don’t get a check.” A point to be cleared up.
“The Army’s still paying me.” He looked at the closed door. “They’d have a list, wouldn’t they? Every employee.”
“If we’re paying them. Why?”
“In case I was looking for someone.”
“Check the phone directory,” Bunny said simply. “There’ll be one on your desk.” He looked over at Ben, as if he were hearing the question again, then let it go. “We’ve got you in B building, next door. Mr. L wanted you in Admin, but there’s no room at the inn so you’re out in the stable. Be grateful in the end-nobody looking over your shoulder. I wish I were there sometimes. I’m afraid you’ll have to share a secretary. I wasn’t sure how much help you’d need.”
“That’s fine.”
“Bunny,” someone said, waving hello.
“How’d you get the name?” Ben said.
“You know, no one’s ever asked. All these years. Not rabbits. Pets, I mean. My mother, when I was little. Because I got my lines right away. You know, ‘quick as a.’ Anyway, it stuck. Editing rooms over there. I understand you got Hal back for us. He’s a great favorite of Mr. L’s. An A-list project,” he said, leaving it open, wanting to know how involved Lasner would be.
“How old were you when you started?”
“In the womb. I don’t know, four or five. Before I could read. She’d say the lines, and I’d have to remember them. But then you grow up. Nobody makes it past that. Look at Temple. Who wants to see her necking?”
“How did you end up here?”
“Through Fay. Mrs. L,” he explained.
“Yes, we met. At the train station.”
“Did you?” he said, another opening, then went back to the thread. “A great lady-not exactly thick on the ground out here. And smart. But she started late, so she needed somebody to help. You know, which fork where. How to do this and that. So, me. Anyway, the more I did for her, the more I got to know Mr. L, and he figured there were things I could do for him, too. So it all just happened. Here we are.”
He opened the door to a sound stage and flicked on the light. Ben had thought Japan would mean a Madame Butterfly set, tea house and garden, but this was Japan itself-a huge, three-dimensional model made of plaster, set up table height on a series of trestles that covered most of the floor.
“It’s built to scale,” Bunny said. “Every bay, river. Took months. Mr. L’s very proud of it.”
“But what-”
“You set the camera up there, on the crane, and you move it along what would be the flight plan. Pilot watches the film, he knows what he’s going to see when he gets there. The exact topography.” A craftsman’s pride.
Ben walked over. Mountains, cities, before you released the bombs. Up close, just plaster and canvas, like a train village under a Christmas tree.
“This must have cost-”
Bunny nodded. “It was the time. We had special effects do it after hours, so you run up overtime. The Army just paid for the materials.” He caught Ben’s surprise. “Our contribution to the war effort. We didn’t just hand out doughnuts at the Canteen.”
“What are you going to do with it now?”
“Well, that’s the question, isn’t it? It’s just sitting here taking up space, but Mr. L can’t bring himself to get rid of it. The Army doesn’t want it. They can do actual aerial photography now. Funny thing is, the film quality’s not as good. They were better off with this.”
They made a circle of the back lot past the prop department, a hangar full of furniture, and the New York set. Everyone nodded or acknowledged Bunny, as if he were taking roll call. Lasner caught up with them on Sound Stage 5, in front of a plywood Hellcat fighter, sliced in half. A few grips were adjusting lights, fixed on the painted flat sky, but everyone else had gone to lunch.
“Well, at last,” Lasner said, putting his hand on Ben’s shoulder. “Everything all right at home?”
“Yes. Thanks.”
“Hell of a thing. Anyway, you’re here. Bunny have you all set up? Anything you need, see him. It’s like talking to me.” He turned to Bunny. “What’s this about Rosemary’s dress?”
“Good news travels fast.”
“I happened to be over there.”
“What did you think?”
“What do I know? You’re the one knows this stuff.” He paused. “She never complains.”
“She’s nervous, that’s all. It’ll be fine.” He looked at Lasner. “It’s already paid for.”
“Don’t pinch. This is the picture we put her across. So what’s that worth?”
“I’ll look at the dress,” Bunny said, case closed. Ben watched the play between them, a practiced volley. It’s like talking to me.
Lasner nodded, then turned to the plane.
“Two more weeks on this. Think we can get it out before November?”
“We still have to score it.”
“The longer we wait- Who the hell’s going to want to see a war picture now? Would you?” he said to Ben. “I’m asking you. Seriously. These last two years, you show any goddam thing, you do business. Now we got all these guys coming back, kids over there seeing things, like you did. What do they want? Maybe they’re sick of this,” he said, gesturing to the plane. “War pictures.”
“Not with Dick Marshall,” Bunny said, indicating the pilot seat. “He’s had three in a row.”
“That’s no guarantee. Maybe Hayworth, that’s it. And that prick Cohn has her.” He cocked his head toward the studio across Gower, then looked at Ben. “You got the message about Saturday? Just a few people. Bring somebody. Nice.”
He left them at the door, heading back to his phones.
“It makes him crazy,” Bunny said. “Cohn having Hayworth.”
“Why?”
“They both started out down here. Same street. You don’t expect to get a star like that, not here. Well, maybe Rosemary will do it for him. She’s worked hard enough.”
“I thought it was all magic.”
“It helps if you help. Let’s get you back.”
“I met Cohn in Europe,” Ben said as they walked.
“You get around,” Bunny said, raising an eyebrow, having fun with it.
“I was an interpreter.”
“Cohn into English?”
Ben smiled. “Almost. He’s a little rough around the edges.”
“And he speaks so warmly of you.”
A policeman passed, touching his fingers to his hat. “Mr. Jenkins.”
“Bert,” Bunny said back.
“Not an actor?”
“Studio police. We have our own force.”
“Under you. Operations,” Ben said, thinking.
“It’s a small force.”
“And who deals with the outside police?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know, runs interference. If somebody gets in trouble.”
“You think this is Metro? Benny Thau and his house detectives? There, no wonder. Just handling Mickey’s a full-time job. The rest of us just toddle off to bed and say our prayers like good children. Why, do you need to get a ticket fixed? Already?”
Ben shook his head. “Thank somebody.”
“For what?”
“Getting an accident report changed.”
“Changed.”
“To make it an accident. You know Danny Kohler was my brother.”
Bunny looked at him carefully. “Mr. L mentioned it.”
“Somebody at Continental got the report on him changed. Saved the family some embarrassment, so-”
“According to whom?”