Free Get Shorty by Elmore Leonard Page B

business. Tommy calls back, says, ‘Frank DePhillips, you’re all set.’ You ever hear of him?”
    Harry shook his head.
    â€œDon’t go to sleep on me, okay?”
    â€œI got a headache, that’s all. Who’s Frank DePhillips?”
    â€œHe’s to some part of L.A. what Jimmy Cap is to South Miami. But I don’t meet with him, he’s on a level only talks to certain people. I meet with one of his lawyers down at the courts, criminal division. Young guy, he comes running out of a courtroom loaded down with papers and shit, looks at me, says, ‘What do you want?’ Fuckin lawyers, they’re always rushing around the last minute. I remind him Mr.DePhillips set this up, also I happen to represent one of the biggest casinos in Vegas. That gets me about two minutes of his time. He says, ‘I’ll see what I can do. Gimme a phone number.’ I tell him I’ll call him, otherwise I’d never hear. Also I don’t want him to know I’m staying at this dump on Ventura. Two days later I meet him and another lawyer in a restaurant in a hotel that’s Japanese. I mean the entire hotel, not just the restaurant, a Japanese hotel right in the middle of downtown L.A.”
    Harry said, “Yeah, the Otani.”
    â€œRight by the city hall. These two lawyers eat there all the time. I watch ’em dig into the raw fish, suck up bowls of noodles . . . The noodles weren’t bad. So this other lawyer gives me addresses and phone numbers, yours and anybody you ever been intimate with on a single sheet of paper. He says, ‘You’re not the only one looking for old Harry Zimm,’ and mentions your investors have been trying to find you for two months. I said, ‘Oh, what’s the problem?’ Guy says, ‘It looks like Harry skipped with two hunnerd thousand they put in one of his movies.’ “
    Harry was shaking his head. He looked worn out.
    â€œThat doesn’t surprise me. This town loves rumors, everybody knows everything, just ask them. My investors have been trying to find me for two months? I spoke to them, it wasn’t more than two weeks ago.”
    Chili said, “You mention the Piston­Lakers game?”
    Harry said, “Look, these guys came to me originally, I mean before. They already put money in twoof my pictures and did okay, they’re happy. Which you can’t say about most film investors, the ones that want to be in show biz, get to meet movie stars and they find out, Christ, it’s a high-risk business.”
    Harry was easing into it, watching his step.
    Chili said, “Yeah? . . .”
    â€œThese guys already know movie stars, celebrities; they run a limo service. So they come in on another participation deal—this was back a few months ago when I was planning what would be my next picture. About a band of killer circus freaks that travel around the country leaving bodies in their wake. The characters, there’s a seven-hundred-pound fat lady who wouldn’t fit through that door, has a way of seducing guys, gets them in her trailer—”
    Chili said, “Harry, look at me,” and waited to see his watery eyes in the kitchen light, fizzed hair standing up. “You’re trying to tell me how you fucked up without sounding stupid, and that’s hard to do. Let’s get to where you’re at, okay? You blew their two hunnerd grand on a basketball game and you haven’t told ’em about it. Why not?”
    â€œBecause they’re not the type of guys,” Harry said, “would take it with any degree of understanding or restraint.”
    â€œThey scare you.”
    â€œWhat’d I just say?”
    â€œI’m not sure. You want to say something to me, Harry, say it, don’t beat around the bush.”
    â€œOkay, they scare me. I keep thinking the first thing they’d do is break my legs.”
    â€œYou got that on the brain.