Joseph Kanon - Stardust

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Ben saw Lasner shift in his seat, restless.

“Like to tell us where this is?”

“Outside Continental.”

“And what were you doing there?”

“Trying to get to work.”

“That’s quite a commute you have there from the looks of it,” Minot said, getting a laugh. “Now isn’t it a fact, Mr. Jasper, that the police were called in to break up a union riot? Isn’t it a fact, unless there’s something wrong with my eyes, the photograph shows you in that same riot? Fighting with a policeman, in fact. And isn’t it a fact you were later treated for injuries at Continental with Howard Stein-practically brought in together is my understanding? That’s the Howard Stein whose affiliation with the Communist Party has been under investigation for years. That Howard Stein. And that’s his union outside in the picture and you in it, throwing punches with the rest of them. Now,” he said, pausing for effect, “I don’t doubt that Milton Schaeffer, a self-confessed Communist, confessed right in this room, in fact, admired your skills with Western movies. But isn’t it just possible-I can’t help feeling there’s a chance of this-that he also liked to have people around who agreed with him politically? Requested people like that. Especially when he was about to make a few changes to the picture. Changes to make us feel a little better about the Russians. I’d just have to say this was possible. Now I’m not asking you to tell us which union you support or how you voted-that’s your business. I’m just saying things like this,” he said, pointing back to the screen, “might give somebody the impression you lean-” He broke off, covering the mike with his hand as an aide whispered in his ear. “Excuse me,” he said after the aide left. “Now let’s talk about Convoy. Yesterday we heard how all those Bundles for Britain ended up going to the Soviets instead. Was that already settled when you came on the picture or did Mr. Schaeffer discuss it with you?”

“No.”

“No, he didn’t discuss it with you?”

“That’s right.”

“Well, now, that’s interesting, because we have testimony, and we’ll get it sworn in later, that Mr. Schaeffer actually reshot scenes-a pretty expensive proposition I’m told-after consulting with you. Do you recall that?”

“We didn’t have enough reaction shots. He took a few more, that’s all.”

“Reaction shots of who?”

“Brian Hill.”

“That’s the fellow playing the Russian. Make his part bigger, that the idea?”

“In that scene, yes.”

“Quite a bit bigger, in fact. That’s where he talks about the Russian people, isn’t it. How they’re hungry because the Nazis took over their farms. Now some of us were under the impression that all started a little earlier, when the Soviets did it, forced them into collectives, but we’re not here to give history lessons and neither was Convoy to Murmansk, I guess. Just make the Russians look like all-around good guys. That was more the point, wouldn’t you say?”

Hal said nothing.

“Wouldn’t you say?” Minot repeated.

“I’m not sure I understand the question.”

“Well, not so much a question. More a general impression.”

“Of the picture? I thought Schaeffer did a good job, considering.”

“Considering what?”

“He had to shoot it in a tank. Technically, it’s a headache, Navy pictures.”

“I meant your overall impression of the story line. What the movie was saying.”

Hal shrugged. “It was a U-boat picture. A war picture.”

“Did Mr. Schaeffer ask you to feature the Russians, when you edited scenes?”

“No.”

“But you did in this scene.”

“You cut to whoever has the dramatic moment. Who the audience would want to see.”

“And in this case, they’d want to see Lieutenant Malinkov, our friend from Murmansk?”

“What the hell is this about?” Lasner said, his voice low, but loud enough to be heard in the row. Fay put a hand on his arm, shushing him.

“Were you aware at the time of Mr. Schaeffer’s political affiliations?”

“No.”

“I’ve been told that the editor is the unsung hero on a picture, the one who makes the real decisions. What we see up there, that’s pretty much what you want us to see. How you want us to feel about it. You agree with that?”

“You can only work with what they shoot.”

“A modest man. But Mr. Schaeffer put a lot of trust in you. From what I hear, he gave you pretty much a free hand. Easier when somebody knows what you’re after. Heart in the right place, so to speak. I’d like to return for a minute, if I may, to Mr. Stein. Your comrade, if I can use the word, in that little dustup on Gower Street. Was that the first time you’d met him?”

“No.”

“Oh, you knew him, then.”

“I’ve met him, I wouldn’t say I knew him.”

“Where’d you meet?”

“I don’t remember exactly. Somebody’s house. Socially.”

“Come now, Mr. Jasper, it was a little closer to home than that, wasn’t it? Would you like to identify the name Elaine Seitzman for the committee?”

“She’s my sister.”

“Seitzman’s her married name?”

“Yes.”

“A housewife. And a secretary. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes.”

“A paralegal secretary. Howard Stein’s secretary for a while, isn’t that so?”

“Her firm did some work for him once. That’s a lot of years ago.”

“Got arrested with him, in fact. A public disturbance. Or maybe she was just on her way to work, too,” he said, smiling to the audience. “It seems to be an unlucky family that way. She introduce you to Howard Stein?”

“She may have. I don’t remember. I only met him to shake hands.”

“Even though she was working for him.”

“Her firm worked for him.”

“All right, I’m not here to contradict you. Her firm. She stay with them?”

“No, she left after she got married.”

“But she kept working. This time for the government. Care to tell us in what capacity?”

“As a paralegal.”

“I meant which branch of the government. Turns out it was the NLRB,” Minot said, picking up a note. “That’s the National Labor Relations Board, for anyone here doesn’t know. Is that where they’re recruiting now? Howard Stein’s office?”

Ben noticed Ostermann raising his head at this, interested.

“This was eight years ago,” Hal said.

“All right, we’ll bring things closer to the present day, if you prefer. You know the public record’s a useful thing. Memory can play tricks on us, but when you’ve got something down in black and white-I’m thinking now about a paid ad in the Los Angeles Times. Open letter to President Roosevelt with your name on it. Ring a bell? Organization called the Motion Picture European Relief Fund. Decent size, I guess. Whole bunch of names on the letter. Would you like to tell the committee what the fund was for?”

“To help refugees get out of Europe.”

“Get them here, in other words.”

“Here, Cuba, Mexico, whoever would take them.”

“These were Jewish refugees?”

“Not all.”

“Not all. What were you asking the president to do?”

“Change INS regulations. To allow more refugees in.”

“And did he do this?”

“No. There was congressional opposition,” Hal said, looking directly at Minot.

“Maybe they were a little uneasy, seeing who was making the request.”

“Those people died,” Hal said simply.

Even Minot paused. “Well, now I doubt that was Congress’s intention.”

“They still died.”

Minot nodded. “I think everybody here knows that, Mr. Jasper. We fought a war to stop it. All of us. But right now I’d like to look at that letter you were sending the president. Remember who was on the steering committee?”

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