Okay, I told myself, you don't actually know something's wrong. It
could be anything. Still, it was very worrying. Steve, my one and only
. . .
I was staring at the phone, wondering what my next move should be.
Whatever else, I've got to try to reach Lou, tell him I've found Sarah.
But then what? He certainly wasn't going to be any help in getting us
out. If he blundered his way down here, there was a real chance he'd
misread the delicacy of the situation and end up getting us all
"disappeared" by the Army. But still, I had to tell him about her.
I picked up the handset again, keyed in the U.S. country code, and
tried the number for his place in Soho. He'd said he was going to be
released from St. Vincent's today, so maybe he was home by now.
The familiar ring jangled half a dozen times and then . . .
"Crenshaw residence." It was the Irish tones of Mrs. Reilly, Sarah's
day nurse. Hallelujah. I guessed she was there now taking care of Lou.
"Uh, this is Morgan James. Mr. Crenshaw's niece. Remember? I came by.
Is he home yet? I need to talk to him."
"He's resting, dear. I was just about to go out and get some things,
milk and soup and the like."
"So . . . dare I ask? How is he?"
"He's weak, but I think he's going to be fine. If people will just let
him be."
"Look, I hate to bother him, but it's really an emergency. I'm calling
from Guatemala."
"Oh. I truly don't know if he's awake, dear. He was napping a while
ago."
"Could you . . . could you go and see? Please. And take the phone?"
"Just a minute." She sounded reluctant, but I could hear her movements
as she shuffled across the loft. I listened, wondering how long Alex
Goddard was going to be away, and then a moment later . . .
"Yeah." There was a rustle as Lou got a grip on his cordless. "Morgan,
is that you? Where the hell are you now?"
It took me a second to even find my voice, I was so thrilled to hear
him. He sounded just like always.
"Hey, how's it going, champ?" I said. Come on, Lou. Get well. Fight.
"I started having these migraines, but they gave me some medicine--"
"Listen." I cut him off, and immediately felt guilty I'd been so
impatient. "I'm up in northern Guatemala and I've found Sarah."
"Oh, my God." That was followed by a long silence, probably an
emotional meltdown. "Is she all right?"
What was I going to say? That she'd been brainwashed or worse by Alex
Goddard? That we were both in his clutches, cut off from the world, and
in deep, deep trouble?
"She's able to stand," I said.
I don't remember what white lies I eventually managed to tell him. I
think it was something like, "She's being treated for a post-coma
syndrome by a medical specialist. I've found out that when she was in
Guatemala before, she was given some very bad drugs, and someone here
who knows about them is trying to reverse some of the damage."
"Alex Goddard, right?" There was no BS-ing Lou for very long. "That
bastard."
"Lou, I'm going to get her out of here and back home as soon as
possible. Everything's going to be all right. Don't worry. It's really
too complicated to try and explain over the phone."
"Yeah, well, I'm coming. Soon as I'm up. I'm gonna take that son of a
bitch by the--"
"Don't. Don't you go anywhere. I'm handling it, okay?"
I heard him grunt, whether from pain or frustration I couldn't be sure.
"Lou, listen, I'm going to try and phone you every day. If I miss a
day, then you should call the embassy down here. Tell them you're FBI.
That might get their attention. The place where I am, where Sarah is,
is named Baalum. It's a . . . kind of village. In the northern Peten
Department. I don't know if the U.S. has any clout up here, but that's
where they should come looking."
I got him to write it down, and then eased him off the line as gently
as I could and hung up. I would have loved for him to be here, but I
wanted to try to get Sarah out by stealth if I could. And stealth was
scarcely Lou's style.
My calls were one for two, and there still wasn't anybody to help me.
The time had come to try David. I was having the glimmerings of a new
strategy.
It was lunchtime in New York, but on Wednesdays he usually just had a
sandwich at his desk. Maybe I could catch him.
"Hello," declared the British female voice he'd put on his machine,
hoping it would sound like he had a classy secretary. "You've reached
the office of David Roth, president of Applecore Productions. We're
sorry Mr. Roth is not available at this time to--"
"David," I barked into the phone. "If you're there, pick up. This is
Morgan. I've got to talk to you."
While the announcement kept running, noises erupted outside in the
hall, voices and a clicking sound, as though something was being rolled
along the tile floor. Shit. Was Alex Goddard about to walk in? My mouth
went dry. Come on, David, I know you're there, hiding--Variety with a
tuna salad on rye, extra pickle. Dr. Brown's Cel-Ray soda.
"David damnit, pick up." I said it quieter this time, but I could feel
my heart pounding. "This is an emergency."
"Morgy, don't!" He yelled as I heard the receiver being
lifted. "Jesus, I just walked in from the deli. Listen, thank God it's
you. Drop whatever the hell you're not doing and get your butt in here.
Jerry Reiner called, you know, the Orion distribution deal--and he
wants a rough cut of _Baby Love_ yesterday so he can pitch it to the
suits on the fifth floor. We could be staring at financial success
here. I hope you can handle the vulgarity of that."
"David, you're not going to believe where I am," I began, working out
my game plan as I went along, trying to sound cool and control my
racing pulse. "I'm in northern Guatemala, at a place that would make a
terrific feature. It's like a Maya theme park, deep in the rain forest.
But it's real. I want you to contact the embassy and get them to grease
the way for my crew to come here. This is too good to pass up." I
thought about the costs and then added, "At least one camera and sound."
One sure way to get Sarah out was to blow the place open to the world.
"What's . . . where are you again?"
I gave him a glowing trailer of the Williamsburg-like qualities of
Baalum--a beautiful, exciting recreation of times gone by that
out-Disneyed Disney. The cable channels would be bidding for the
footage.
"Hey, look, all things in time." He wasn't buying. "I'm talking an
actual deal here. You know, money? Fuck the jungle wonderland. You've
got exactly one more day down there on the Tarzan set, or wherever the
hell it is, and then I'm gonna start finishing final cut on this damned
picture myself. Don't make me have to do that, Morgy. This is not a
drill. Nicky Russo came by again yesterday. He's fully prepared to call
our note and impound your original negative. It's here, under lock and
key, but we've got to get this project in the can and sold."
"You touch a frame of my movie and I won't be responsible for my
actions." God, he was missing my SOS. "David do one thing for me,
please. I can't tell you how important it is. I haven't explained
everything. This situation is . . . It's very threatening. I need you
to at least call the embassy down here and see if they'll send
somebody. The Army's all over the place and--"
A loud noise intervened followed by complete, absolute silence. The
diodes on the panel all began flashing yellow.
"Shit!" Had Alex Goddard been listening in and decided to cut me off
before I could get word to the embassy?
I slammed the box and went for the usual maneuver: I cut the connection
and tried again, but nothing. Again, and still nothing.
My hands were trembling. I'd just lost contact with the outside world.
I was completely isolated in the middle of nowhere.
How convenient. Alex Goddard let me tell a couple of people I was
physically okay, and then he blocked the line.
I exhaled settled into the padded chair next to the computers, and
tried to think. David, David why wouldn't you listen? He was so excited
he'd completely ignored my distress signal. Nobody was going to come
and help me get out of here.
I gazed around the room, wondering what to do next. Was there another
phone, a radio, a box of flares, for godsake?
That was when I spotted the outlines of another door--why hadn't I
noticed it sooner?--this one steel, there on the left. Alex Goddard
might walk in any second now, but I had to try to learn everything I
could as fast as I could. What was going on besides what was going on?
Alert for any new sounds from outside, I quickly went over and tried
the knob.
It was locked tight.
Figured. Now I really wanted to know what was in there.
When I glanced around the office, I noticed a ring of keys on the desk.
Could he have forgotten them?
More important, would I blow everything if he caught me snooping? In
spite of his attempt at a cool veneer, he might go ballistic.