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“He’s not a talkative feller. Though near as Ah can gather, he himself’s on the level.”
“Are they?”
“All I know is they ain’t asking for protection money. But if it’s not a racket, why is Imperial taking the independents’ side in the Trust war? Kindness of their hearts?”
Bell said, “I suspect that the truth is printed on their calling card.”
“‘The Independent’s Friend?’ How you f
igure that?”
“If an outfit that distributes and exhibits moving pictures befriends all the independents, they can rent out a lot of films.”
Texas Walt shoved his Stetson back on his head. “Like the cattle broker buying up every herd at the railhead.”
“And the meat packer in Chicago buying by the trainload. The Independent’s Friend could control the distribution and exhibition of all the independents’ moving pictures.”
“You’re sure they’re the same Imperial as the outfit you’re tracking?”
Bell nodded emphatically. “Larry Saunders got the Los Angeles exchange to trace their telephone number back to the Imperial Building.”
“And you’re sure Imperial Film’s a blind for something else?” Hatfield asked.
“That’s what we’re going to find out,” said Isaac Bell.
“Reckon you want me to continue riding for Tarses?”
“No. I want you inside that building. They’ve got cinematography studio stages up in the penthouse. Audition at Imperial to get a job acting inside.”
“Acting jobs ain’t all that easy to tie on to, Isaac. There’s men and women lined up everywhere they’re taking pictures.”
“You have a leg up, Walt. You look like you should be in pictures. And you’ve already worked in a couple. Get inside Imperial first thing tomorrow.”
Texas Walt hesitated.
“What’s wrong?” asked Bell.
“Well, I don’t want to leave Tarses in a lurch.”
“Tarses? What does Tarses have to do with the Talking Pictures case?”
Texas Walt scuffed the carpet with his boot. “Fact is, he’s talking about me playing a bigger part.”
“Why don’t you ask Mr. Van Dorn for a leave of absence?” Bell asked in a quiet, silky manner that Texas Walt Hatfield misinterpreted.
“Think the boss would go for that?”
“After we crack the case.”
Texas Walt worked a deep groove into the carpet. “Sorry, Isaac. I didn’t mean to say I won’t take home the gal I brung to the dance.”
“Appreciate it,” said Bell. “Here’s where we stand: I’ve got the boys watching Clyde on the eighth floor of the Imperial Building; I want you up top in the roof studios. I’ve seen Mademoiselle Viorets’s office on the seventh, and I’m heading now to the fourth floor where they do the recordings.”
“How you fixin’ to get in?”
“I already am in.”
* * *
