Free Magic Hour by Susan Isaacs Page A

few weeks. Was Sy angry at anybody?"
    She leaned against the kitchen counter and smiled. "Everybody. When he was making a movie, anyone who gave him a hard time was an enemy. It was funny, because for all his charm he was aloof, and always in control. When we were married, we'd have fights where I'd yell, kick the refrigerator, and Sy would watch, like he was watching an actress doing an improvisation: Wife Losing Her Temper.
    "But when he was producing—God, that was another story! Goodbye charm. And forget aloof. His money and his reputation were on the line. He never yelled—that wasn't his way—but he'd lace into people in this icy voice. It could really get scary—all that fury expressed in this absolutely cold manner. Let me tell you: he got his way."
    "Was he angry at anyone the last time you talked?"
    "Lindsay, I guess."
    "But they were living together. They were supposed to be in love."
    "Well, I've got to tell you: the love part is debatable. But even if they had been, this is the movie business. An executive producer doesn't love an actress who's jeopardizing a twenty-million-dollar project. Sy told me the dailies were awful, which really surprised me because her success isn't just based on blatant beauty; she's a talented actress."
    "But you think Sy got disillusioned with her?"
    "Sy had a gift for falling in and out of love pretty easily."
    "Let's put love aside. Was he annoyed with her? Angry?"
    "Furious. He said she was just coasting—not putting any thought or energy into the role because it wasn't an 'important film.' That really ticked Sy off, because it was an article of faith with him that any movie that's true, that moves audiences—even a screwball comedy—is an important film. He believed in Starry Night . And Lindsay didn't. What made the problem even worse was that she has such a monumental ego she couldn't see how flawed her performance was. And naturally, she wouldn't try to fix what she'd decided wasn't broken. Let me tell you, if he hadn't gotten killed, he would have made her life a living hell."
    "So he was ready to steamroll Lindsay?"
    "Yup. And the director too."
    "What's his name?"
    "Victor Santana."
    "Why was he mad at him?"
    "Because Santana had gone gaga over Lindsay and couldn't or wouldn't get her to change."
    "Anyone else?"
    "Oh, his usual hate list. The director of photography they'd hired—a French boy genius—was shooting too pastelly. The line producer was bellying up to NABET—the film technicians' union—too much. Sy was angry at everyone ."
    "Okay, then who of the movie people was seriously angry at Sy?"
    "I don't know. I'm not part of the Starry Night company."
    "How about Lindsay Keefe?"
    "My guess is if you tell a critically acclaimed actress—a movie star—that her performance is putrid and then, no matter how many little adjustments she makes, that the dailies are still awful ... well, you figure it out. But even I wouldn't believe she'd shoot him because he criticized her work."
    "Who else?"
    "I don't know."
    I looked her straight in the eye. "He was your ex-husband. He could talk to you."
    "We didn't talk all that much."
    "You talked enough. What else was on his mind?"
    "He never really said anything specific."
    "Tell me anyway."
    "Well, I just want you to know this is my interpretation of what he didn't say."
    "Go ahead."
    "This is a very expensive movie for an independent production. I think maybe he was a little concerned that his backers were upset. The people who invested might have heard about trouble on the set, and they might have gotten anxious."
    "Who were they?"
    "Specifically? Beats me. I think a couple of them may have been from his days in the kosher meat business." She paused. "You know there are some rough people in that industry."
    "Yeah, there's mob money in it."
    "From the little Sy said, though, these guys didn't sound like out-and-out goons. More like businessmen in suits and ties, except with five-pound gold ID bracelets."
    "Was that all?