An Assignment
Stan Brophy moved purposefully away from the small crowd gathered around the entrance to the property room and soon turned a corner out onto the studio lot and out of sight. Some of the gathered investigators giggled, others huffed, some just grinned.
"Lights!" the call came from the set and suddenly the scurry of day to day activity on the set was back in full throttle. Each of those who had witnessed the talent agent's discovery in flagrante delicto suddenly had real jobs to do and the crowd faded quickly away.
Some days passed. The detective got busy tracking down a sneak thief on the lot who was breaking into the actor's trailers during filming sessions. The doctor was called to revive a number of fainting starlets. The young blonde actress was recalled to her shooting schedule with Tarzan. The hopeful red-headed actress continued to try to catch the eye of influential producers and directors, eager to be noticed in a virtual sea of beautiful young women who seemed to arrive in Los Angeles from all over the world in bus load parcels. The older actress used Mr. Brophy's business card as collateral to receive a free voice assessment session from a minor English peer who had parleyed a posh voice into a career. He gave her some helpful pointers.
It has been almost two weeks since the incident in the props room when each of the investigators receives a note, written in beautiful cursive, hand delivered by one of the studio pages.
"Please meet me at 6 o'clock tomorrow night on Sound Stage 14. I will make it worth your while. Ed Meyers."
Ed Meyers is one of the owners of the studio, a Hollywood legend, an award winning producer and a well known tough guy from New Jersey. His invitation is more in the way of a summons.
Sound Stage 14 is where they are filming Appointment in Zamora, a desert romance with a famed Latin Lover as the male lead. Ed Meyers is the principal money man in this film, which has been having some issues according to the studio scuttlebutt.
The sun is sinking over the Pacific Ocean as the investigators are vetted and allowed into the cavernous space. A handful of sets are in place: Some kind of castle wall and a massive gate, an oasis, a kasbah interior. A group of carpenters and sound engineers are working on details of the kasbah set, but they are hustled out by large men in dark suits who then take up positions by all of the entrances.
Ed Meyers is short and fat. He twirls a thick cigar, but it is not lit. He stalks up and down in front the investigators as he speaks, punctuating his statements with jabs of the cigar in their direction. His voice is grating, his accent is thick.
"Youse guys. You know who I am, right?" He does not wait to get anyone's agreement, but keeps on. He is clearly angry, but not necessarily at the investigators – yet.
"You know who Stan Brophy is too, right? My secretary," he points his cigar at a slim young man in chinos and a loose linen shirt who smiles and nods,"tells me that youse were seen with said Brophy in this here studio about two weeks back. Hob nobbing in the props department. Yukking it up. Maybe there was some slap and tickle?" He looks deliberately at the pretty girls but with a professional rather than a lecher's eye.
Again he does not wait for acknowledgment or discussion of these facts before he continues.
"I don't give a tinker's cuss about what happened back then, but I do need to find Stan Brophy. And youse? You know him.
"Said Brophy has taken money from me. Ten large." The cigar waggles violently.
"He promised me a star! A babe! Someone worthy of being in my new movie. Jeanne St. Jayne! That's who he promised me. And two days ago, when she was supposed to start filming, she is a no show.
"Eddie," he jabs the cigar at the elegant young secretary again, "he goes over to find her. You know. Stars sleep in. They forget what day it is. But she is not at home.
"No. She is on a sound stage at Universal filming another movie!" His voice is getting more dangerous and indignant now.
"She is my star! I paid Brophy for her to be in my movie, and she is now cheating on me with those Commie fakakas down the street."
He controls his rage with some effort and sticks the cigar in his mouth. Eddie strides forward swiftly with a lighter and soon a plume of blue grey smoke wafts up across the fake castle wall.
"This is not your fault," Meyers says finally. "But youse are going to help me fix it.
"Said Brophy, may he rot in hell for a million years, has vanished off the surface of the Earth. He is nowhere to be found. He is not at home. He is not at his golf club. He is not at his athletics club. He is not at his favorite hotel where he takes young ladies to . . ." he looks at the women in the group and tails off, puffing again on the cigar.
"Eddie tells me youse was seen talking with said Brophy. From this my keen mind deduces that youse knows him." He stabs at the them with the lit cigar.
"I will pay you to find him. I will pay you one hundred dollars today, each, and two hundred dollars again when you bring that welshing scumbag on his knees in front of me to explain what he has done with my money and why my star is not on my stage."
OOC: Going to move the action away from the studio for now, leaving that to our Keeper to continue her story when she is ready. Please feel free to interact with Ed Meyers and/or his sleek secretary, Eddie. Ask questions. It's what Investigators do.