Page 58 of The Perils of Paulie
“Sleep well.” I closed the door softly and made a beeline to the front desk, where I forced a clerk to tell me which room Roger was in.
“I have a few things to say,” I told him when he answered the door, pushing past him uninvited. Inside were two of the production assistants, both film teams, Graham, and one of the wardrobe ladies who I knew had flown out to check our garments before we left the U.S. “Sorry if I’m interrupting a meeting, but I want to know what’s going on with the Esses trying to kill Dixon’s team. Did you look at their car?”
“Yes, of course,” he answered, surprising me. He waved toward Graham, who was sitting on the bed with a laptop perched on his knees. “We went over it, as well as the Engaging Englishmen’s car, to make sure it didn’t suffer any damage.”
“There’s nothing wrong with the Essex car’s brakes that was at all evident,” Graham said in agreement.
“Which means it was done deliberately? Dammit, Roger, those men could have been killed or permanently injured! You can’t let the Essex team go on being villains, not if they are taking very real actions to eliminate the competition.”
“Pish,” Roger said, startling me a little. I hadn’t pegged him for the sort of man who said words like “pish” in serious conversation. “It was an accident, nothing more. The Essex Esses simply neglected to put the stones in front of the wheels, and since there was evidently a slight incline, the car simply slipped its brakes with the result that, sadly, two more racers are going home.”
For the first time, I noticed a frazzled component to Roger’s expression. No doubt he was feeling the stresses and strains of all the accidents. “How do you know it wasn’t a deliberate accident? I know Dixon told you what the Esses said about being villains and working up plans for eliminating people—”
“They were rehearsing bits for the camera, nothing more,” Roger said, waving my concern away. “Now, Paulie, dear, as much as I’d love to stand here and chat with you, we really must proceed with our production meeting. We have the cars to get loaded on the plane tonight, and we’re waiting for a fax from the Kazakhstan embassy, and of course there is everything to get packed and loaded onto the charter plane by morning.” While he spoke, he shooed me to the door, giving me a gentle push through it before adding, “It’s all very tragic, I agree, but I assure you that with the exception of the engine corrosion, none of the accidents were intentional. The police are very confident they will track down the source of the acid used on the engine, so you can sleep tonight secure in the knowledge that there is no nefarious plan afoot.”
“But—”
He closed the door in my face. I considered knocking until he opened up so I could continue my argument, but the realization that I had no more proof that the Esses were behind the accident any more than I had proof that Anton was working for my father had me turning and walking quickly to my room.
July 26
From: Julia
Hey, babe! Angela says you’re in SF tomorrow? I can pop into town and meet you for lunch. Am dying to see you in your suffragette threads.
July 26
To: Julia
We get on plane at 8 a.m., so no time for lunch. I sent you selfies!
July 26
From: Julia
Yeah, but it’s not the same as seeing you in person. How was cross-country drive?
July 26
To: Julia
It would take hours to tell you. This evening one car ran into boyfriend’s and took out his brother and other car’s member. Germans got snockered and were given boob.
July 26
To: Julia
Boot! They were given the boot!
July 26
From: Julia
Who cares about boobs! You have boyfriend? Who is boyfriend? When did this happen? Wait. Calling you.
July 26
To: Julia
