The Paper Dragon (26 page)

"So this year, on January 18th, the stockholders of this fine company are going to sit back and look at the figures and they're going to learn that
Scimitar
has earned back only ten million dollars in a six-month showing, and that's a far cry from the thirty million dollars it cost to make, and an even farther cry from the two and a half times we have to earn back because that rotten director talked me into doing it in color, seventy-five million dollars before we're even off the hook. The stockholders are going to jump on that the way Moses jumped on the water, seventy-five
million
dollars. Will anyone remind them that I've earned
ten
times seventy-five million dollars for this company since my father died, God rest his soul? Will anyone remind them of
Dust
, which earned twelve million at a time when twelve million was equal to thirty-five million today? Will anyone remind them of
The Peddlers
at ten-and-a-half million profit, or
Marcia Steele
at six million profit, or
The Paper Dragon
at fourteen million, which book we bought for thirty-five thousand dollars, and which entire picture cost us only eight-fifty to make, will anyone remind them of what Leo Kessler has
done
, or only of what Leo Kessler has failed to do?

"Oh, let me tell you they are going to remind us of
The Paper Dragon
if we lose this trial. They are going to remind us that in the past three years we have had only one film that really made any kind of money, and that film was
The Paper Dragon
, which only enabled us to get rolling on
Scimitar
. Without Driscoll's book, we'd never have got involved in that lousy desert out there with that Swedish bitch screwing everything in sight, including the Moslem camel boys, and maybe the camels, too, what a production, I wish I'd never heard of it! They are going to remind us that here was a winner,
The Paper Dragon
, a profit of fourteen million dollars, and due to Mr. Leo Kessler's expert handling of the company, it turns out that this winner, ha! was plagiarized from something that was offered to API back in 1947 and again in 1952, something that is right there in our studio files for Ralph Knowles to look at while he's doing his screenplay. And when we add that to
Scimitar
and the money that's going down the drain with
that
one, you can rest assured that Mr. Leo Kessler will be out on the street selling pencils, look what happened to Griffith."

"What happened to Griffith?" Sam asked.

"
Birth of a Nation
, the biggest movie ever to be made in the history of the business, he dies a pauper in a Hollywood fleabag. Who'll remember
Dust
when Mr. Leo Kessler is kicked out on his ass?"

"Nobody," Sam said.

"You said it."

"We'll win the case," Sam said. "Don't worry."

"That's good," Kessler said, "but that's not why I sent young snotnose Kahn out to ogle the office girls, and it's not why I asked you to lock the door, either. If we win the case, we don't need locked doors. We'll have the stockholders down on us
anyway
, but at least I can then say 'What the hell are you yelling about? Who was it who
made
the money for us to later invest in
Scimitar
, Sam Goldwyn maybe? It was
me
, it was
me
who saw possibilities in
The Paper Dragon
, it was
me
who brought it to the screen, it was
me
who made fourteen million dollars with it, so who has a better right to be daring with a picture that could still maybe earn out the cost once we're through with two-a-days and can go into general release, the Swedish bitch is big box office, and don't forget it.' That's what I can say." He paused. "
If
we win the case."

"We'll win it," Sam said. "Willow's a good lawyer."

"Is he Jewish?"

"I don't know."

"Brackman
is
," Kessler said. "Never sell a Jew short."

"With all due respect, Leo, he's made a few mistakes already."

"Good, he should only make a
hundred
of them. I'm not worried about what happens if we
win
this case. I'm worried… about what happens if it looks like we're
losing
it."

"I don't get you," Sam said.

"You don't get me?" Kessler paused. "
Did
he steal that play or not, Sam?"

"I don't think so."

"But will the
judge
think so?"

Sam shrugged. "That's why we're having a trial, Leo."

"What do
you
think the judge will think?"

"I think the judge will decide against Constantine."

"You think we'll win?"

"Yes. I think we'll win."

"But when will we know?"

"When the judge gives his opinion."

"Which will be when?"

"He can give it immediately after our summation, or it can take as long as two months. Who knows?"

"Two months after the trial
ends
, do you mean?"

"That's right, it could take that long."

Kessler nodded. He walked to the leather chair behind his desk, slumped into it, and laced his thin fingers across his chest. "You know, of course, that Ralph Knowles is flying in from the Coast, don't you? To testify."

"Yes, I know that."

"I want protection," Kessler said.

"Against what?"

"Against being kicked out of this company, what the hell do you think I've been talking about here for the past ten minutes?"

"How can I give you that?"

"By making sure that Ralph Knowles is very carefully prepared before he goes on that witness stand."

"
All
witnesses are prepared, Leo. Knowles will—"

"We had nothing to do with this," Kessler said.

"What do you mean?"

"Neither API nor Mr. Leo Kessler had anything to do with this."

"With
what
?"

"I bought a book. I paid thirty-five thousand dollars for it in good honest American money. I bought it from galleys even before it became a bestseller. It was a good book, I thought it would make a great movie. I had no way of knowing it was stolen from a play written back in 1946."

"Who says it was stolen?"

"
If
we lose," Kessler said.

"I'm having trouble following you," Sam answered.

"
If
we lose — and don't tell me this can't happen, Sam, don't tell me innocent men haven't been sent to the electric chair or the gas chamber for crimes they never committed —
if
we lose this case, I want it to be clear in the record that James Driscoll was the crook.
We
had nothing to do with it, Sam, we had no way of knowing."

"Granted. But, Leo, I think he's innocent. I think he really did write the damn book all by himself, without ever having heard of Arthur Constantine
or
his play."

"Sam," Kessler said, "I respect your opinion highly, but I must tell you that your opinion isn't worth two cents. It's the
judge's
opinion that matters. And if the judge says James Driscoll stole that play, then James Driscoll
did
steal that play, and that's all there is to it."

"Well, that's not quite
all
there is to it. We can still appeal."

"Fine, we'll appeal. And by the time we appeal, I'll be out on my ass in the street selling pencils."

"Or chestnuts," Sam said.

"Everything is funny to you," Kessler replied. "
I'm
a man gasping for breath, and
you
make jokes. When I want comedians, I'll hire Charles DeGaulle."

"Okay, what do you want?"

"Ralph Knowles is the biggest horse's ass I know, and there are some very big horse's asses in this industry. I want you to make sure he understands exactly what's he's going to say before he testifies, and that he doesn't say a word that would lead anyone to think he even
suspected
there was a copy of
Catchpole
in our files out there on the Coast."

"
Did
he know there was a copy of the play in our files?"

"I don't know what he knew or didn't know. Directors are to me traffic cops, and worse than actors. The only good director I ever met was the one who dropped dead on the sound stage of a picture we were making, causing us to abandon it. He saved us a half-million dollars."

"All right, I'll see that Knowles is carefully prepared."

"See that he's more than carefully prepared. Put the words in his mouth, let him memorize them. He wrote his screenplay from Driscoll's book, he consulted only Driscoll's book, he followed Driscoll's book to the letter, making only those changes necessary to adapt it to the screen. Like everyone else at API, he had no idea Driscoll was a crook."

"Leo," Sam said, "do you want to
win
this case, or simply lose it with honor?"

"I want to keep my job," Kessler said.

"Un-huh."

"Win it, lose it, I don't give a damn — so long as API comes out clean. And if that means throwing Driscoll to the wolves or the lions or whoever, then throw him and good riddance. I'm not married to him."

"Well," Sam said, and paused. "If it's any consolation, I think we'll win it, anyway. In fact, I don't see how we can lose."

"So win it. Am I telling you to lose the damn thing? What do you think this is, a club fight in New Jersey? I saw that picture, thank you. It was with Robert Ryan."

"Julie Garfield."

"That was another one."

The office went silent. Sam looked at his watch. "What time does Knowles get in?" he asked.

"Late tonight. He'll be ready for you tomorrow morning."

"We'll be starting with Chester Danton tomorrow morning."

"Well, when will Knowles go on the stand?"

"In the afternoon, most likely. That's up to Willow. He's running the case, we agreed to that."

"Then you've got plenty of time to talk to him."

"Yes."

"What's the matter?" Kessler asked.

"Nothing."

"What's the look on your face?"

"I was thinking of Driscoll."

"What about him?"

"All the poor bastard did was write a book."

By six-thirty that evening, the three men had each consumed four martinis, and the atmosphere at their table was convivial and relaxed, to say the least. Even James Driscoll, whom Jonah usually found rather reserved, seemed cheerful and optimistic, and it was he who suggested they have another drink before parting. Jonah was not ready to part just yet, not until he had fully discussed what was on his mind. He readily agreed to the fifth drink, and Norman Sheppard raised his arm to signal the waiter.

"What we're asking you to do," Jonah said, "is to reconstruct the events that led to your calling your division the 105th. That's all we're really trying to do."

"The hell with it," Driscoll said.

"No, we can't say the hell with it," Jonah said.

"We're having a good time here," Driscoll said. "The hell with it."

"We won't have such a good time if we lose this case," Norman said. "That's why we're asking you to try to remember, Jimmy. Try to remember how you hit upon those three digits."

"I just did," Driscoll said.

"But how?"

"I don't remember."

"Well, think about it."

"I
am
thinking about it."

"Maybe you've got some notes on it," Norman said. "You've supplied us with a lot of other material, so perhaps…"

"No, I wouldn't have kept notes on anything like that."

"All we're trying to do is trace the origin, that's all."

"It's a coincidence, plain and simple," Driscoll said.

"I think I'm getting drunk," Jonah said suddenly.

"I
know
I'm getting drunk," Driscoll said, and laughed. "That's good. Relax from the trial."

"We can't relax," Norman said.

"
I
can relax," Driscoll answered.

"I wish 
I
could relax," Jonah said, and removed his glasses and wiped his eyes. His eyes were a pale blue. He pressed them with thumb and forefinger and then replaced his glasses.

"Brackman is going to harp on that 105th Division," Norman said, "and unless you can come up with a reasonable explanation, I feel we're going to be in trouble. I think those are Jonah's feelings as well, aren't they, Jonah?"

"Let me say that the coincidence unless explained will seem extraordinary."

"Well, it
is
extraordinary," Driscoll said. "I think a great
many
of the similarities between my book and the play are extraordinary."

"On Monday afternoon, I drove up to Vassar," Jonah said. "To see a friend of mine who teaches World History there. Now, I know your novel takes place during October and November of 1950, and that the action you describe was against the Chinese — but is it possible you also ran into some North Korean troops?"

"No."

"You did not?"

"I did not."

"Is it possible you overheard talk about engagements with North Korean troops?"

"It's possible, I suppose. Most of the talk was about Chinese intervention, though. We kept wondering when it would happen — even after it
did
happen."

"Would you recall anyone mentioning the North Korean 105th?"

"No. Should I?"

"Well," Jonah said, and shrugged. "You never heard it mentioned, huh?"

"Not to my knowledge. Was it an infantry division?"

"No, it was an armored brigade."

"Then that lets it out, doesn't it?"

"Not necessarily," Norman said. "If we could show it was involved in—"

"It wasn't," Driscoll said. "The major battle in the book is against Chinese troops. And even the patrol is into territory held by the Chinese."

"Well, that's the end of
that
possibility," Norman said.

"That's what I thought on Monday," Jonah answered. "But I was hoping Jimmy would say, 'Why, yes, of course! I had a long discussion with some veterans of the June-July fighting, and they told me all about the 105th Armored Brigade and their Russian-built T-34 tanks."