“Canaan,” Lou said.
“The Promised Land,” Ray said. He looked at Lou. “Gordie’s right. Let’s see if Gabe Pollack knows anything about it.”
“We can drop by his office tomorrow.”
They were silent for awhile, sipping their beers and crunching on tortilla chips.
Gordie printed the word SULTAN on his napkin and turned it to face them.
“What are you doing?” Ray asked.
“You think it’s an anagram?” Gordie said.
For the next several minutes, they fiddled with the letters:
Stun.
Lust.
Salt.
Slut.
Slant.
Last.
They couldn’t come up with any word using all six letters.
Other possible codes proved equally unenlightening, although Ray’s idea of focusing on the first letters of the words in Marshall’s will yielded a disturbing message: Sultan Pointed On October First.
“Spoof?” Ray said. “It better not be.”
“We used to be good at this stuff,” Gordie said.
“What stuff?” Lou asked.
“Figuring things out.”
Ray gave him a dubious look. “We did?”
“Sure,” Gordie said. “Don’t you remember? It was Bronco Billy’s finest hour.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Come on, Ray,” Gordie said.
“What?”
“I’ll give you a hint.”
“Okay.”
“Yakov Blotnik.”
“Who?”
“Yakov Blotnik.”
Lou and Ray gave each other a baffled look.
And then Ray smiled. “Oh, yeah. Yakov Blotnik.”
SCENE 34: THE EXAM {3rd Draft}:
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. BARRETT COLLEGE QUADRANGLE - NIGHT
CAMERA ON CLASSROOM BUILDING
Dead of winter. Snow gently falling. The building is dark except for a single brightly lit classroom on the second floor. We are too far away to make out the identities of the four people inside, but we recognize them as they speak.
LOU
(straining for the answer)
Some sort of eye doctor, right?
BRONCO BILLY
(patiently)
But what is his name? You have to know his name.
INT. CLASSROOM - NIGHT
It’s one of those seminar rooms with a long conference table surrounded by chairs.
Ray, Lou, Gordie, and Billy are in there cramming for an English exam. Books and notebooks are strewn around the table, along with empty cans of Coke, Styrofoam coffee cups, and a bag from Dunkin’ Donuts. Billy sits at the head of the table, as much in charge as anyone could be after all these hours.
Lou leafs through a dog-eared copy of The Great Gatsby, looking for the answer. Gordie crumples sheets of loose-leaf paper and tries to toss them into the waste basket in the corner. Ray stands by the window and peers into the snowy night as he takes a drag on his Camel cigarette.
BILLY
(looking up at them)
Well?
LOU
(still searching through the book)
Egg-something. Egbert?
BILLY
No.
GORDIE
(as a crumpled paper
drops in basket)
Bradley shoots, he scores!
LOU
Okay, Bronco. We give up. Who?
BILLY
Dr. T. J. Eckleberg.
GORDIE
And who is he again?
BILLY
The face on the billboard in the valley of ashes in The Great Gatsby.
RAY
(disgusted)
This is total chickenshit.
BILLY
Professor Berger said this kind of stuff would be on the exam.
RAY
This is college, for chrissake. What’s he doing giving us a goddamned seventh grade quiz?
BILLY
To make sure we read the books he assigned. He said we’d have to know names, places, things like that.
RAY
Total chickenshit.
BILLY
It’s fifty percent of our grade.
GORDIE
(with a new “ball”)
Dr. Eckleberg at the head of the key. Dr. E shoots. HE SCORES!
LOU
How about some Philip Roth?
GORDIE
(pausing in his game)
Goodbye, Columbus. What a great tush, eh?
RAY
Whose?
GORDIE
Whose? My God, man. Whose? Ali MacGraw’s, that’s whose. Remember that scene at the country club when she gets out of the pool and reaches back to snap the bottom of her swimming suit down. There’s not a Jewish guy my age who doesn’t get a woody remembering that scene.
LOU
He won’t ask about Goodbye, Columbus. Too easy. We need to focus on the other stories.
BILLY
Good point, Lou.
RAY
(mimicking Billy)
Good point, Lou.
BILLY
(studying his class notes)
Okay, who was Yakov Blotnik?
GORDIE
(laughing)
Who?
BILLY
Yakov Blotnik.
RAY
(rolling his eyes heavenward)
Fuck if I know.
BILLY
Anyone?
GORDIE
Yakov Blotnik? Uh, Jay Gatsby’s real name?
LOU
F. Scott Fitzgerald’s real name?
GORDIE
Ray Gorman’s real name.
BILLY
This is serious. Yakov Blotnik.
LOU
We give up.
BILLY
Yakov Blotnik is the janitor in Philip Roth’s short story, “The Conversion of the Jews.”
A moment of silence, and then the other three burst into laughter.
EXT. QUADRANGLE - NIGHT
They are still laughing as the camera pulls further away until all we can be see is the illuminated windows of the otherwise dark building.
GORDIE
Cousy to Russell. Russell back to Cousy. Over to Hondo. Hondo to Blotnik. Yakov Blotnik shoots, HE SCORES!
RAY
The janitor in “The Conversion of the Jews”? Unbelievable. Total chickenshit.
CUT TO:
INT. LECTURE HALL - DAY
The next day. Exam time. All rows of seats in the tiered lecture hall are filled, a closed bluebook on every desk. Professor Berger stands at the lectern below as student proctors pass out the exams. Billy is seated down in the front row. The other three are interspersed among the rest of the class, with Ray all the way in back on the top row.
ANGLE ON PROFESSOR BERGER
as he glances back at the clock over the blackboard and CLEARS his throat.
PROF. BERGER
You will have exactly one hour to complete this exam. No talking whatsoever.
He pauses to glance back at the clock again.
ANGLE ON STUDENTS
Gradual zoom in on Ray Gorman, who is seated way up in the back row.
PROF. BERGER
(off screen)
You may now…begin the exam.
The SOUND of 70 exam booklets opening.
CLOSE ON RAY
as he opens his booklet and starts reading.
INSERT OF FIRST PAGE OF THE EXAM
where the following question is visible:
1. Who is the janitor in
Philip Roth’s “The Conversion of the Jews”?
ANGLE ON RAY
His frown relaxes into a smile and he looks up.
RAY’S POINT OF VIEW
Three rows below Ray to the right, Lou turns and looks back with a grin and then glances down to his left, where Gordie is seated.
ANGLE ON GORDIE
as he looks back at Lou with raised eyebrows and an expression of wonder.
RAY’S POINT OF VIEW
From all the way down in the front row, Billy sneaks a look back at Ray.
ANGLE ON RAY
as he winks at Bill and gives him a thumbs-up.
ANGLE ON BRONCO BILLY
as he smiles.
Chapter Twenty
“Rachel Gold?” Ray said. “You trust her?”
“Gabe does,” Lou said. “That’s good enough for me.”
“She’s a lawyer?”
“She is. Used to be at Abbott & Windsor.”
“What happened?”
“She left.”
“Voluntarily?”
“Definitely. Gabe said she was one of their best associates. Smart, tough, hardworking. And apparently gorgeous.”
“I like that last part. So why’d she leave?”
“According to Gabe, she wasn’t crazy about life in a big law firm. She wanted to go solo. She’s got her own practice now. Mostly litigation.”
“That takes some balls. I like that in a woman.”
They were in a small conference room down the hall from Gabe Pollack’s office at Abbott & Windsor. Just the two of them this morning. Gordie was giving a presentation to one of his agency’s big accounts, and Billy had a representative from the Spanish consulate visiting his classes.
“And she’s from St. Louis, too?” Ray said.
Lou smiled. “Another graduate of U. City.”
“Did you know her in high school?”
“Nah. She’s at least ten years younger than us.”
Having struck out on the newspaper angle yesterday, they’d shifted their focus to the Canaan bequest—namely, that odd codicil to Marshall’s will that established a trust fund for the maintenance of a grave at a pet cemetery for something called Canaan. Although Marshall’s will seemed to direct them toward wherever the mysterious sultan had pointed, the odd pet cemetery bequest was hard to ignore.
Gabe had been familiar with the codicil—or at least its existence. That was clear when they mentioned it to him.
“Ah, yes.” He’d nodded and smiled. “The Canaan legacy.”
The firm had discovered the codicil among Marshall’s estate papers after his death. Its existence had been a surprise to all—from his widow, who knew nothing about it, to the trusts-and-estates partner at Abbott & Windsor, who’d drafted what he’d believed was the entirety of Marshall’s estate plan. The firm had retained its former associate, Rachel Gold, to quietly investigate the matter. Although the results of her investigation had been strictly confidential at the firm, Gabe believed it was unrelated to Sirena.
Gabe had called Lou earlier that morning when he learned that Rachel was going to be at the law firm that day regarding another confidential matter for Abbott & Windsor. If they could come by around ten-thirty, she’d meet with them before heading back to her office.
There was a knock on the conference room door.
“Come in,” Lou called.
The door opened and a young woman stepped in. A strikingly beautiful young woman. She gave them a friendly, confident smile.
“Hi, guys. I’m Rachel.”
They stood, shook her hand, and introduced themselves.
Rachel Gold was tall and slender, with dark curly hair, high cheekbones, and intelligent green eyes. She was wearing a dark two-piece suit, the skirt hemmed at the knees, an ivory silk shirt underneath the jacket, and low heels. There was a calm, assured aura about her that conveyed the sense that she’d be happy to meet you in court or on a tennis court. Lou liked her immediately.
She took the seat at the head of the table and set her leather briefcase and purse on the floor beside her. Lou sat on one side of the table and Ray on the other.
“Well?” Rachel said.
“Thanks for meeting with us,” Lou said.
She smiled at Lou. “We U. City grads have to stick together.”
Lou grinned. “Agreed.”
“So tell me why I’m here.”
She listened as Ray gave her the background on Sirena.
When he finished, she frowned. “So you believe Mr. Marshall arranged for her disappearance?”
“Apparently,” Lou said.
“Okay. And?”
Lou said, “We understand that after Marshall died, the firm retained you to work on a matter involving his estate.”
She nodded. “That’s true.”
“Specifically, we understand it had something to do with that codicil for the grave in the pet cemetery.”
“That’s also true.”
“We went over to probate court,” Lou said, “and made a copy of it. Canaan, right?”
She nodded.
“What’s the deal with the grave?” Ray asked.
Rachel shook her head. “I can’t say anything more about the grave, Ray. Attorney-client privilege. But I can guarantee that your missing statue was never in that grave. Ever.”
“You’re that sure?” Ray said.
“I am.”
After a moment, Ray said, “Was it one of his practical jokes?”
“Pardon?”
“That Canaan legacy thing.”
Rachel leaned back as she considered the question.
“In a way,” she finally said.
“When you were doing that investigation,” Lou said, “did you come across anything having to do with Sirena?”
Rachel frowned as she thought it over. She shook her head. “No.”
Ray asked, “Did Marshall know any sultans?”
“Sultans?” she repeated.
“Yeah.”
She shrugged. “It’s possible. Abbott & Windsor has an office in Riyadh. I think Marshall handled a commercial arbitration over there back when I was an associate. I assume they have sultans in Riyadh.”
“Did he represent one?” Lou asked.
“I don’t know.” Another pause. “Why?”
Lou explained the sultan reference in the will.
“That is odd.” Rachel leaned back in her chair. “You should ask Gabe to run off a list of Marshall’s clients. That information should still be in the firm’s database. That list may tell you whether he ever represented a sultan—or handled any matter that might have involved a sultan.”
***
“This is frustrating,” Ray said.
They were heading back down the hallway toward Gabe’s office.
“Raymond?”
They stopped and turned toward the voice. The speaker was a female attorney in her early forties. She held a yellow legal pad in one hand and a dark Prentice-Hall treatise on tax law in the other.
Lou glanced over at Ray, who had a rigid smile on his face.
“Elaine,” Ray said. “What are you doing here?”
She was dressed in a conservative gray suit and dark flats.
“I work here, Raymond.”
Ray said, “I thought you were at Winston and Strawn.”
“I was. Things change. I came over her about eight years ago. What are you doing here?”
“Talking to one of your lawyers. Me and, uh, this is Lou. My friend Lou Solomon. Lou, this is Elaine, uh—”
Ray paused, glancing down at her left hand. She was wearing a gold wedding band.
“Sansbury,” she said, reaching to shake Lou’s hand. “Elaine Sansbury. Very nice to meet you. You were one of Raymond’s roo
mmates freshman year, right?”
“Right,” Lou said, surprised.
“The normal one, right?”
“Normal?” Lou smiled. “Says who?”
“Raymond.” She glanced over at Ray and winked. “Although he may not be the most reliable expert witness on the subject of normality.”
Lou laughed. “No comment.”
“There were two others, right?” She squinted in concentration. “There was Gordie. Gordie Cohen. He was the comedian. And then—hmm—cowboy name, right? Tex? Bronco? Bronco Billy. You called yourselves the James Gang.”
Lou raised his eyebrows. “I’m impressed. How do you know all this?”
“Raymond and I were once married.” She looked at Ray. “A long time ago, eh?”
“Seems that way.”
Surprised, Lou glanced at Elaine and then Ray and back at Elaine. She had lively blue eyes, thick chestnut hair cut short, and a sprinkling of freckles over her high cheeks and broad nose. She had the round face and stout build of a Russian peasant.
She said to Ray, “I read that article about you in Forbes. I was impressed.”
There was a moment of silence, and then Ray said, “You’re looking fine, Elaine.”
She laughed. “You’re sweet, but you always sucked at bullshit. I put on forty-two pounds when I got pregnant. Everyone told me, ‘Don’t worry, Elaine. Once the baby’s born, all that weight’ll drop right off.’ That was six years ago. Apparently, thirty-five of those pounds decided to take up permanent residence.”
“So you have a child?” Ray asked.
“Hey,” Lou said to them, “I’ve got to go check on that list with Gabe. When I’m done, where will I find you two?”
“My office,” Elaine said. “I’m one floor down. When you’re done just have the receptionist buzz me.”
She turned to Ray with a warm smile. “Come on, Raymond.”
SCENE 64: FRONT-END, PART II {Draft 3}:
CUT TO:
INT. BARRETT COLLEGE DINING HALL - NIGHT
Dinner. The usual mealtime sounds in the crowded dining hall: LAUGHTER, SHOUTS, CLANGING of plates and silverware.
ANGLE ON LOU AND RAY
They are wearing white cotton busboy jackets and pushing a large metal bussing cart through the dining hall.
A group of upperclassmen get up from a table and leave. Lou and Ray push their cart over to the table and go to work: scraping the plates into the garbage pail on the cart; stacking the trays, dirty dishes and glasses on the cart; putting the silverware into the divided rack.
The Sirena Quest Page 10