Death of a Blue Movie Star

line went dead.
    Schmidt sat staring at the glossy black-and-gray phone for a full minute before he realized he was still holding the silent receiver. He hung it up angrily.
    He felt like swearing, though he knew that if he did he’d immediately regret saying the cuss word. He was proud of the fact that he was both a tough, moneymaking businessman and a deeply religious man who abhorred the use of obscenities. With his thumb he continued to crush the crackers into dust.
    His appetite for the soup was gone and he pitched it into his wastebasket. The lid came off and the soup spilled into the plastic bag lining the garbage can. The smell of fish and onions wafted up, which made him even more angry.
    But he remained completely still as he folded his hands together and prayed until he was calm. That was one thing he had learned to do—he never made a decision when he was in what he called a secular state.
    In five minutes the spirit of the Lord had calmed him. His decision was to do exactly what he’d thought of doing when he’d hung up after speaking to the girl. He picked up the phone and gently pressed out a number.

 
    CHAPTER FIFTEEN
     

    “You can use L&R’s camera. It’s got a telephoto built in.”
    Stu, the cook-editor-food stylist from Belvedere Post-Production, said, “Why exactly do you want to film this guy?”
    “I’m going to get a confession. I’m going to trick him.”
    “Isn’t it illegal to film people if they don’t know about it?”
    “No. Not if they’re in a public place. That’s what public dominion means.”
    “Public domain. And that’s something different. The copyright law.”
    “Oh.” Rune was frowning. “Well, I don’t know. But I’m sure it’s okay and I’m doing it.”
    “What kind of camera is it?”
    “Betacam. Have you—?”
    “I know how to use one. Ampex deck?”
    “Right,” Rune said. “You’ll be up on the balcony at Lincoln Center, shooting down. That’s all you have to do. Just tape me talking to this guy.”
    “You still haven’t told me why. What kind of confession?”
    “I’ll have a tape recorder,” she said quickly. “You don’t even have to worry about audio.”
    “I’m not going to do it, you don’t tell me what you’re up to.”
    “Trust me, Stu.”
    “I hate that phrase.”
    “Don’t you like adventures?”
    “No. I like cooking, I like eating. I’d like money if I had any. But one thing I definitely don’t like is adventures.”
    “I’ll give you a credit on my film.”
    “Great. Just be sure to put my prison number after my name.”
    “It’s not illegal. That’s not the problem.”
    “So there
is
a problem…. What is it, getting beat up? Or killed? Will you dedicate the film to my memory?”
    “You aren’t going to get killed.”
    “You didn’t say anything about not being beat up.”
    “You won’t get beat up.”
    “It sounded to me,” Stu said, “that there was a tacit
probably
attached to that last sentence. Was there?”
    “Look, you
definitely
won’t get beat up. I promise. Feel better?”
    “No … Lincoln Center? Why there?”
    Rune slung the battery pack over her shoulder. “So that if you do get beat up there’ll be plenty of witnesses.”

     
    Rune had flashed an ID to the security guard of Avery Fischer Hall. His eyes went wide for a moment, then he let her into the quiet hall.
    “We’re doing some surveillance,” she told him.
    “Yes, ma’am,” he answered and returned to his station. “You need any more help you give me a call.”
    “What’s that?” Stu asked. “That you just showed him?”
    “An identification card.”
    “I
know
that. What kind?”
    “Sort of FBI.”
    He said, “What? How did you get that?”
    “I kind of made it. On L&R’s word processor. Then I had it laminated.”
    “Wait—why did you tell me? I don’t want to know things like that. Forget I asked.”
    They continued up the stairs. On the walls were dozens of posters of operas and plays that had been performed at Lincoln Center. Rune pointed at one. “Wild. Look.” It was for Offenbach’s
Orpheus in the Underworld
.
    Stu glanced at it. “I prefer easy listening. What’s the significance?”
    Rune was quiet for a moment; she felt like crying. “That’s Eurydice. That woman. She reminds me of someone I used to know.”
    They climbed the top floor and stepped out on the roof. Rune set up the camera.
    “Now, don’t pan. I’m worried about strobing. Don’t get fancy. Keep the camera