Chapter 15

Julie and I worked on her play for another full week. The work didn't go as well as it had on that first session. We got bogged down in the second act, and no matter how hard we tried we just couldn't seem to get it into shape.

The first and third acts weren't in final form, either, and we worked on them whenever we hit a really tough snag in the second act-which was often.

Julie's good nature was a big help, but the strain on her began to tell after a while. It was her play, her conception, her story, and my constant efforts to change it-no matter how justified those changes were-soon brought her to the stage where her nerves were tense. We argued, we even yelled at each other a few times, and once I stormed out of her apartment in a fit of anger.

But we kept on working.

And we kept on spending nights together.

The nights were the best. Julie opened up a whole new world of warmth and affection and deep emotion for me with the intensity of her lovemaking. I had never known anything like it before. My feelings about her were still confused, still not certain, and I did think of Carla a lot during that week.

Between the strain of working on the play and the emotional turmoil of making love to Julie and trying to straighten out my own feelings, I was not in such good shape at the end of the first week's work.

And then came the phone call from Jason.

He reached me at my apartment just as I was getting ready to leave for another afternoon session on the play with Julie.

"I'm at my place, Phil," he said in a voice that seemed suddenly cold and hard. "Get over here right away."

"I was just about to do some work on the play, Jason," I said.

His voice was even colder when he replied, and there was something else in it, something I couldn't quite define. It might have been fear, except that I knew Jason wouldn't allow himself the human frailty of being afraid of anything. Anyhow, when he snapped, "I said get over here now and I mean it, Phil I" I said "Sure thing, Jason," and hung up the phone and rushed down to the street and hailed a taxi.

In the taxi I lit a cigarette and silently cursed my self for jumping whenever Jason snapped his fingers. I had turned into a trembling, fearful fool where he was concerned, and all because he controlled my future. It wouldn't be forever, I promised myself. As soon as I got that contract, and as soon as I felt a little more secure, I'd change my tactics with Jason. He'd know then that he couldn't push me around.

But even as I told myself all this, I realized deep down that with a man like Jason you don't assert your independence so easily. It was one thing to promise yourself you were going to do it someday. It was quite another matter to keep that promise.

Just as the cab pulled up in front of Jason's place, a siren wailed in back of us, and a police car pulled up to the curb. Two cops got out and ran to the alley at the side of the building. I looked at the cabbie, but he just shrugged his shoulders, and I paid him and walked into the lobby. The doorman was nowhere in sight.

Jason answered the door himself. He was wearing a velvet smoking jacket, and his face was set into hard lines as he looked at me.

He held the door open for me silently, and I followed him inside. He turned and faced me, his eyes regarding me coldly.

"What about Carla, Phil?" he asked abruptly.

"I don't understand, Jason. What about Carla?" I countered, stalling for time.

"Don't play games with me!" he snapped. "Has Carla agreed to star in the play yet?"

"Well-"

"Has she or hasn't she, Phil?"

"Well, it's this way, Jason. I-"

"Give me a straight answer Phil."

"No!" I snapped back at him. "She hasn't agreed to appear in the play yet."

"Why not?"

I was silent for a moment, and the sound of more police sirens drifted up from the street.

"Answer my question, Phil!" Jason said sharply.

"I-I haven't had a chance to talk much with her about it, Jason," I stammered, feeling the old fear come over me. "I wanted to give her a little more time to think it over."

"You've given her more than enough time. I want you to get in touch with her today, Phil. I want you to get a definite commitment out of her today. I want her to sign a contract as soon as possible." He looked at me from under beetling brows. "You won't get a contract with me, Phil, until Carla signs one first. And I'm not going to wait much longer. I want a definite affirmative answer from her today so my lawyers can start drawing up the contract."

I spread my hands helplessly. "What's the rush, Jason? Julie and I are still working on the play, and "I want to be able to announce tonight or tomorrow morning at the latest that Carla is going to star in the play," Jason cut in. "I have some very good reasons for this, Phil."

"Can I ask what those reasons are, Jason?"

"The play and the new theater and I myself are about to receive some very strong publicity, Phil," he said in a flat, emotionless voice. "It might be considered unwelcome publicity in some circles, but I intend to take full advantage of it."

"What are you talking about, Jason?" T asked, genuinely puzzled not only at his words but also at the curious hardness of his face and tone of voice.

A thin smile touched his lips and then was gone in an instant. "Iris was here," he said briefly.

"So?"

"I gave her the bad news, told her she wasn't going to be in the play."

I looked at him, waiting for him to go on. He motioned for me to follow him and went to the bedroom door and opened it. A woman's clothing was strewn about haphazardly--a dress over the back of a chair, shoes in a corner, stockings on the back of another chair, a bra and half-slip under the stockings, and a pair of panties draped over the edge of the bed.

Jason walked to the open window, through which the sound of still more police sirens came clearly. He motioned me to the window and pointed down.

T looked down nine floors to the alley below. A small crowd of police were grouped around the twisted body of a naked woman. Even at that distance, I could see she was a blonde.

I drew back from the window and looked at Jason, the truth beginning to dawn on me.

"It's Iris," he said in a flat voice. "The damned fool jumped through the window."