Alonso Duke made the call to his casting director. Afterward he didn’t feel as much pain of conscious and guilt as he thought he would. And why should he? His wife was cheating on him and the fact that he was now a paraplegic did not make it right. Well, she could have the role her little heart desired in his upcoming film. In fact, he wanted to keep that cheating bitch and her lover/actor in close proximity for just the right moment when he brought their world crashing down.
Confined to a wheelchair since the auto accident on the Santa Monica freeway last year, Alonso made the best of his lot, which wasn’t bad to start with. At 36, he was an established and successful film producer credited with several box office hits that glorified violence though not gratuitously. From old Italian stock, Alonso grew up in the hard boroughs of New York where he acquired the tools needed to survive in a dog eat dog world. And survive he did, breaking free of the stifling ignominy of poverty and misery of sub human existence.
But all secular success and the riches that go with it could not ease the rage he now felt. He didn’t want to believe it was true but there was no denying the evidence. His vivacious young wife of 24 was having an affair with Bobby Raymond, the star of his upcoming movie, “A Little Justice”.
Though not a big man, Alonso was surprisingly compact and sinewy with well developed muscle, which, coupled with the dark, almost gothic European features, presented the image of a very handsome man. And a very exacting man in which jealously rode in a tall saddle and retribution, an even taller saddle that had no equals, no room for unabated marital disloyalty. It simply was not the Italian way as his lecherous wife would soon learn.
Alonso believed that film making could be too graphic, leaving nothing to the moviegoer’s imagination and so tempered his productions to allure future audience. That strategy alone assured his success. The new film too, like the others, would do well, due in large part to his proclivity to edit the story line or sub-plots while the movie was being shot. He had an intuitive gift of knowing when to change something, or when not to, always with the same result; huge ticket sales.
The call he just made to the casting director would assure his wife Alicia a part in the movie that she had so desperately wanted. Of course now he knew why. It was a chance to wallow in the lap of further infidelity, even flaunt it. Well, Alonso now granted that request but she would never know he had a hand to landing her a part. A role that would cast her as a conniving high priced hooker who ensnares Bobby Raymond in a night of lust and treachery. But first a screen test was required to insure there was at least some acting ability present, although he suspected her talents lay mostly between bed sheets.
Alicia would soon now present Alfonso with divorce papers and then she would have it all. His money and her lover Bobby. What more could a girl ask for. Life was too good to be true , she happily thought, as she drove to the audition set up for her. An audition that required she read a few lines from the movie script, have a few photos taken and that was it.
Alicia arrived at Paramount Recording studio 7 in a state of near ecstasy, having just left Bobby Raymond passionately spent and a new career blossoming. She entertained no qualms about having an affair. What was a girl to do, now that her man at home sat helpless in a wheelchair, useless. She had married the twerpy Italian for his money anyway and though she had never planned infidelity, she now welcomed it. Besides, Bobby Raymond was a real hunk who treated her with respect in addition to being a great lover. And now she had a chance to actually be in the same movie with him, albeit small. Bill Montgomery, the sound engineer greeted her cordially and all was made ready.
“Okay Alicia, remember, you are making a call to the character Rip Shamley as played by Bobby Raymond. Make your voice as sexy, as provocative as possible, but above all, make it convincing. You can begin now.”
“Hi sweetheart, been thinking about you all day and had a great idea. Meet me at the old Ambassador hotel tonight around 10.00 PM. We’ve got the whole place to ourselves all night and I got something special for you baby. Don’t be late or it might get cold. Later sugar.”
“That’s fine,” Bill broke in from the sound booth, “now read the next page in its entirety.”
The rest of the audition was a recitation of heated exchanges that culminated into her pulling a weapon on Rip Shamley. Alicia thought to herself for a moment, how odd the first reading was, not recalling it in the script at all.
Bill Montgomery took the recording of Mrs. Duke and hand delivered it to Alfonso as instructed, and then destroyed the script page from which she read, again, just as instructed. He didn’t ask questions.
Alfonso then located an old audition tape of Bobby Raymond and skillfully spliced together a seamless recording that went.
“Care to fool around? If you think you can handle me, I’ll see you at the hotel, the Ambassador. Tonight. 10:00PM. Hurry. Can’t wait.”
Alfonso’s intent was clear. Soon, he would leave each recorded message on the other’s answering machine, and hope they would respond without question, thereby catching them in the act. To burst in upon them with his entourage of VIPs would be utterly vilifying to the cheating pair. The humiliation would certainly be unbearable, destroying both their careers. Just exactly what Alfonso wanted.
When the two lovers were in separate parts of the San Fernando Valley on shooting assignments some days later, Alfonso made a call to Raymond’s answering service and then to his wife’s private number at the Swan Lake club, an exclusive women’s group that championed woman’s rights to an extreme, he thought. How it would shake up the management there if they knew he had access to its members phone numbers, no doubt, denting the pristine and secretive facade they sought so hard to maintain.
That evening Alfonso had his chauffeur drive him to the cordoned off area of downtown where the Ambassador hotel was situated. The place was a hubbub of activity with workman milling about the hotel, preparing the old hotel and the surrounding grounds for a crucial upcoming shoot in two days time.
Alfonso remained after everyone left and sure enough, they both showed at 10:00 PM, not knowing their rendezvous was set up by him. He watched them as they merrily made their way into the deserted hotel, confident they would use the suite on the twelfth floor. After a few moments his assumption was confirmed as a beam of light flitted against the window curtain, a flashlight no doubt since the electric power had been shut off in the hotel.
Alfonso sat sullenly yet excitedly in the wardrobe trailer all night, staring at the top floor of the hotel, his anger growing diametrically as he imagined the perfidy there. In between nursing his anger, he thought about how finally he now was able to produce a film with spectacular, realistic footage that until recent years had been nearly impossible to arrange. Until now that is.
At 6:00 AM sharp Alfonso wheeled into the nearby mobile office of Dirk Armstrong, LTD. Again the entire area was filled with activity, cameras being positioned, sound equipment put in place.
“Well good morning Mr. Duke. You’ll be glad to know we were able to facilitate your request to move everything up one day, although we had some snags with the federal boys downtown. We had to amend the permit at a substantial cost, but we’re ready.”
“Good, my crew outside is all set, the cameras are rolling, so let’s do it.”
“All right Mr. Duke, it should be an astonishing scene for your movie, thank God no one is inside. By the way, why the rush?”
“Well, I’m just impulsive that way, always changing my mind. Besides, keeping ahead of schedule will do a little justice for everybody involved,” he said, barely containing a huge grin.
“Okay then Mr. Duke, would you like to do the honors?”
“Well I’m flattered and most delighted.This will wrap up a wonderful film in grand style and ‘A Little Justice’ will be a realization in more ways than you can know.”
With that he wheeled over to the black box in the corner with the T-handle plunger in raised position and with a deep breath of sweet revenge, pushed down with all his might.
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Reviewed by Kitty
6/29/2002
I just discovered Steve Rylor, and find his writings excellent.
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