Chapter 7

I called Julie Wade the next afternoon, which was a Saturday. She had a low, husky voice that could evoke pictures in a man's mind-exciting pictures. "Oh, yes, Mr. Devlin," she said after I had identified myself. "Jason told me he'd have you contact me."

I glanced at my watch. It was a little after one-thirty. "Jason said he set up an appointment for four-thirty, Miss Wade."

"Please call me Julie. Miss Wade sounds so formal-even over the telephone."

"Sure, Julie," I answered. "And you can call me Phil."

"Okay, Phil." She laughed-a low, husky laugh that just matched her voice.

"I'll see you at four-thirty, then," I said. "All right. Will you come over here?"

"Sure, Julie."

"Got a pencil? I'll give you the address."

"Jason already gave it to me," I said.

She laughed again. "Jason thinks of everything."

I was silent for a moment. Even though she had laughed, there was something in her voice that told me she probably had about as much use for Jason as I did.

"Yes. 'Bye, Phil."

I said good-bye and hung up the phone. I barely had time to lift my hand from the phone when its suddenly rang. I picked it up again and said "Hello."

It was Carla.

"Oh, Phil!" she said quickly. "I'm so glad I caught you at home."

Not only her words, but her tone of voice instantly alerted me. "What's the matter, Carla?" I asked.

"Well...."

"Come on," I said impatiently. "What's wrong?"

"Well, nothing's really wrong, Phil. I-I called just to tell you something before it got back to you from another source."

"Tell me what?"

"Now, don't get angry, Phil...." Her voice trailed off.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "What's there to get angry about?"

"Jason Thorpe."

I almost dropped the phone. "You mean he was there?"

"Yes, Phil. He was here ... last night. In my house." There was a long pause, and then she said. "He left just a Little while ago."

I felt my face grow hot as the implications of what she had said sank in. "You mean he stayed the night?" I asked in a voice that had suddenly Mimed so hoarse I didn't recognize it as my own.

"Yes," Carla said in a very faint voice.

"And you called just to tell me that?" I said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

"Yes, Phil. I wanted you to hear it from me before it got back to you some other way."

"That was very thoughtful of you, Carla."

"Please don't be angry, Phil."

"Who's angry?"

"Phil, listen to me-"

"Why should I be angry, Carla?" I interrupted. "After all, something like this happens to me every day. I'm really quite used to it."

"Phil, please-"

"I'm glad you called to tell me, though. It does-how that at least you were thinking of me."

"Phil, will you please listen to me?" Her voice was getting desperate.

"I'm listening," I said, fishing a cigarette out of the pack in my pocket and lighting it.

"Jason flew out here yesterday," Carla said, and it was evident she was trying to speak calmly. "I didn't know he was coming. Honest, Phil, I had no idea at all that he was in Hollywood until he called me."

"Go on," I said.

"Well, he insisted on seeing me, Phil. He said it was about you and the new theater and, well, naturally I couldn't refuse to see him after that."

"Naturally," I said, puffing hard on my cigarette. I was beginning to get a glimmer of understanding now and could guess what had happened.

"Jason has been checking up on you, Phil."

"So?"

"So he asked me a lot of questions about your background and did I think you'd make a good director, and all sorts of questions like that."

"What'd you tell him?"

"I told him that I thought you'd make an excellent director, Phil. He ... well, Jason apparently checked into your previous experience, and he told me he wasn't too impressed by it."

"That figures," I said.

"And then Jason asked me point-blank if I really wanted you as my director if I did a play for him in the new theater. I didn't let you down, Phil. I want you to know that. I told Jason I'd be only too happy to have you as my director."

"He believed you?"

"I'm a good actress, Phil. He believed me."

"Okay," I said. "Now let's hear the rest of it."

"What's there to tell, Phil?" Carla said in a voice that seemed suddenly heavy with weariness. "I told you once that Jason is a smooth operator. Before I knew it, he had me in my bedroom and ... well, I guess I don't have to go into detail about it."

"Oh, by all means, go into detail, Carla," I said, not bothering to cover up the bitterness in my voice.

"Let's hear all about it. Did he rip your clothes off? Or did you undress for him first? Was he gentle? Was he rough? Tell me all about it. I'm anxious to know. I'm particularly anxious to know if you enjoyed it."

"Please, Phil, don't-don't talk like that."

"How else do you expect me to talk?"

"I did it for you, Phil. Can't you realize that?

"For me?"

"Yes."

"Don't snow me, Carla. I'm not near as stupid as I look."

"It's the truth, Phil. Jason was awfully suspicious about you. He kept on asking all those questions as though he doubted you'd be a good director, and I could tell he was thinking that you were trying to put something over on him. When he started making a pass at me, I didn't want to get him angry. I was afraid he'd take it out on you and fire you. I did it for you, Phil. It was the only way I could think of at the moment to ... to save your job for you."

"Thanks," I said. "Thanks for nothing."

"Now you're mad at me, aren't you, Phil?"

"You're damn right I'm mad!" I shouted.

"Please, Phil ... it's over with now. You can't undo it. Jason left, and he won't be back."

"Oh, sure."

"He won't be back," she repeated firmly. "He's got some business to attend to here before he leaves, and besides, I told him I'd be tied up from now on with conferences at the studio."

I finished my cigarette and stubbed it out in the ash tray. When I continued to remain silent, Carla said faintly. "Phil?"

"Yeah?"

"You do understand, don't you, Phil?"

"No, I don't."

"Will you at least try to understand? Will you do that much for me?" There was a pathetic note in her voice that wrenched at me.

"All right ... I'll try," I said wearily.

"That's all I ask, Phil."

"I'm going to hang up now," I said. I couldn't take any more.

"Phil-wait!"

"What is it?"

"You're not mad at me any more, are you, Phil?"

"No, I'm not mad. I just want to hang up now. I I've got to think."

"All right, Phil. Will you call me again soon?"

"I guess so."

"Well ... good-bye for now, Phil."

I put the phone down gently, not bothering to say good-bye to her. I lit another cigarette and tried to think. It was no use. Everything seemed to be whirling around in my mind at once. I put out the cigarette and shook my head rapidly, trying to clear it.

There was only one thing to do now, I decided only one thing that might help.

I'd get drunk.

I was going to get drunker than I had ever been before.