The McBain Brief by Ed McBain Read Free Book Online Page B

since this was a movie we were making, I guess you would have called us off- camera actors. That is to say, we were in the script even during those first two weeks of shooting, but all you did was hear our voices. And though you never actually saw any of us, you knew there was a director there, and a cameraman, and a writer, which was the beauty part of the script, the play-within-a-play aspect. It wasn’t until after those two weeks of shooting that any of us would appear on camera as real live actors, which was what the script called for because, you see, there was supposed to be intensely personal human relationships developed between the girl and the people making the movie—the movie itself was supposed to become an artistic microcosm of life itself, if you know what I mean. In other words, the girl was supposed to perform with her leading man only during the early parts of the movie, and then become gradually involved with the people working with her, and do on camera with them what she had earlier been doing with him, but more. I know that sounds complicated, but it was in Solly’s script, and when we explained it to the girl, she said, “I don’t understand. Does this mean I have to do this with Solly in front of the camera?”
    â€œNot Solly himself, ” I said. “The writer of the movie.”
    â€œSolly is the writer of the movie,” she said.
    â€œIn real life, he’s the writer of the movie,” I said. “But in the movie, he’s only pretending to be the writer of the movie.”
    â€œAnd we’re supposed to do it here? In the loft?”
    â€œYes. The loft is where we’re shooting the movie, and what happens is that during the coffee break, The Girl gets involved with The Writer, and this leads to a beautiful sex experience for both of them.”
    â€œBut Solly is bald, ” she said.
    â€œMy dear,” I said, “you’d be surprised how many bald men go to see pornographic movies. There are at least millions and millions of them.”
    â€œIf we could afford an actor to play the part,” Solly said, “we’d hire him in a minute. But that would only cut into our profits.”
    â€œI didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, Solly,” the girl said. “It’s just I have never balled a bald man in my life.”
    â€œThere is always a first time,” Solly said.
    This was at one a.m. in the morning at the start of the third week’s shooting. Ben had told the girl he needed to reload the camera, and he was in the bathroom now, with the light out. We had sent Harry home at midnight. He had gone reluctantly, it seemed to me, but I didn’t yet suspect anything was developing between him and the girl. All I knew was that he had done his job very realistically during those first two weeks, and we were ready to phase him out since his services were not too strenuously required during the remaining eighteen weeks of shooting. In fact, as I explained to the girl, she was supposed to become more and more involved with the people making the film, and less and less involved with her leading man, until the very end of the picture when she got married.
    â€œMarried?” she said. “To who?”
    â€œTo Harry. We have a nice little scene where you get married at the end. But that’s after you have sort of experienced all different kinds of sexual experience and gratification with the various men working on this film, which experience provides the bedrock of a good marital relationship later on.”
    â€œYou mean, sort of, I learn different things from them, and this prepares me for being like a good wife to Harry later on, is that it?”
    â€œThat’s it exactly, ” I said.
    â€œThat’s beautiful,” she said, and she began to weep.
    Ben came out of the bathroom, camera in hand. “All loaded,” he said, “and ready to shoot.” He looked at the girl. “Is