She studied a page. "Doesn't say."

And I never found out, and that's one of many things that bother me. "Do you know who's seen the test?"

"Oh, sure, we have to keep a record." She studied another page. "But I'm the only one who looked at it."

"You?"

"He came in one day to fill out some forms. We got to kidding around. It's hard to describe. There's something about him. So I thought I'd take a look at his test."

"And?"

"What can I say? I recommended him for that bit part in Broken Promises."

"If I want to see that test, do you have to check with anybody?"

She thought about it. "You're still on the payroll for Broken Promises, aren't you?"

"Right."

"And Crane's in the movie. It seems a legitimate request." She checked a schedule. "Use screening room four. In thirty minutes. I'll send down a projectionist with the reel."

So I sat in the dark and watched the test and first felt the shiver that I'd soon know well. When the reel was over, I didn't move for quite a while.

The projectionist came out. "Are you all right, Mr. Sloane? I mean, you're not sick or anything?"

"No. Thanks. I'm…"

"What?"

"Just thinking."

I took a deep breath and went back to the casting office.

"There's been a mistake. That wasn't Crane's test."

The thin-faced woman shook her head. "There's no mistake."

"But that was a scene from The Prodigal Son. James Deacon's movie. There's been a switch."

"No, that was Wes Crane. It's the scene he wanted to do. The set department used something that looked like the hayloft in the original."

"Wes…"

"Crane," she said. "Not Deacon."

We stared.

"And you liked it?" I asked.

"Well, I thought he was ballsy to choose that scene – and pull it off. One wrong move, he'd have looked like an idiot. Yeah, I liked it."

"You want to help the kid along?"

"Depends. Will it get me in trouble?"

"Exactly the opposite. You'll earn brownie points."

"How?"

"Just phone the studio VP. Tell him I was down here asking to watch a screen test. Tell him you didn't let me because I didn't have authorization. But I acted upset, so now you've had second thoughts, and you're calling him to make sure you did the right thing. You don't want to lose your job."

"So what will that accomplish?"

"He'll get curious. He'll ask whose test it was. Just tell him the truth. But use these words. 'The kid who looks like James Deacon.'"

"I still don't see…"

"You will." I grinned.

I called my agent and told him to plant an item in Variety and Hollywood Reporter. "Oscar-winning scribe, David Sloane, currently prepping his first behind-the-lens chore on Mercenaries, toplining James Deacon lookalike, Wes Crane."

"What's going on? Is somebody else representing you? I don't know from chicken livers about Mercenaries."

"Lou, trust me."

"Who's the studio?"

"All in good time."

"You sonofabitch, if you expect me to work for you when somebody else is getting the commission – "

"Believe me, you'll get your ten percent. But if anybody calls, tell them they have to talk to me. You're not allowed to discuss the project."

"Discuss it? How the hell can I discuss it when I don't know a thing about it?"

"There. You see how easy it'll be?"

Then I drove to a video store and bought a tape of The Prodigal Son.

I hadn't seen the movie in years. That evening, Jill and I watched it fifteen times. Or at least a part of it that often. Every time the hayloft scene was over, I rewound the tape to the start of the scene.

"For God's sake, what are you doing? Don't you want to see the whole movie?"

"It's the same." I stared in astonishment.

"What do you mean the same? Have you been drinking?"

"The hayloft scene. It's the same as in Wes Crane's screen test."

"Well, of course. You told me the set department tried to imitate the original scene."

"I don't mean the hayloft." I tingled again. "See, here in The Prodigal Son, Deacon does most of the scene sprawled on the floor of the loft. He has the side of his face pressed against those bits of straw. I can almost smell the dust and the chaff. He's talking more to the floor than he is to his father behind him."

"I see it. So what are you getting at?"

"That's identical in Wes Crane's test. One continuous shot with the camera at the floor. Crane has his cheek against the wood. He sounds the same as Deacon. Every movement, every pause, even that choking noise right here as if the character's about to start sobbing – they're identical."

"But what's the mystery about it? Crane must have studied this section before he decided to use it in his test."

I rewound the tape.

"No, not again," Jill said.

The next afternoon, the studio VP phoned. "I'm disappointed in you, David."

"Don't tell me you didn't like the rewrite on Broken Promises."

"The rewrite? The… Oh, yes, the rewrite. Great, David, great. They're shooting it now. Of course, you understand I had to make a few extra changes. Don't worry, though. I won't ask to share the writing credit with you." He chuckled.

I chuckled right back. "Well, that's a relief."

"What I'm calling about are the trades today. Since when have you become a director?"

"I was afraid of this. I'm not allowed to talk about it."

"I asked your agent. He says he didn't handle the deal."

"Well, yeah, it's something I set up on my own."

"Where?"

"Walt, really I can't talk about it. Those items in the trades surprised the hell out of me. They might screw up the deal. I haven't finished the negotiations yet."

"With this kid who looks like James Deacon."

"Honestly I've said as much as I can, Walt."

"I'll tell you flat out. I don't think it's right for you to try to sneak him away from us. I'm the one who discovered him, remember. I had a look at his screen test yesterday. He's got the makings of a star."

I knew when he'd screened that test. Right after the woman in the casting department phoned him to ask if I had a right to see the test. One thing you can count on in this business. Everybody's so paranoid they want to know what everybody else is doing. If they think a trend is developing, they'll stampede to follow it.

"Walt, I'm not exactly trying to sneak him away from you. You don't have him under contract, do you?"

He ignored the question. "And what's this project called Mercenaries? What's that all about?"

"It's a script I did on spec. I got the idea when I heard about the ads at the back of Soldier of Fortune magazine."

"Soldier of… David, I thought we had a good working relationship."

"Sure. That's what I thought too."

"Then why didn't you talk to me about this story? Hey, we're friends, after all. Chances are you wouldn't have had to write it on spec. I could have given you some development money."

And after you'd finished mucking with it, you'd have turned it into a musical, I thought. "Well, I guess I figured it wasn't for you. Since I wanted to direct and use an unknown in the lead."

Another thing you can count on in this business. Tell a producer that a project isn't for him, and he'll feel so left out he'll want to see it. That doesn't mean he'll buy it. But at least he'll have the satisfaction of knowing that he didn't miss out on a chance for a hit.

"Directing, David? You're a writer. What do you know about directing? I'd have to draw the line on that. But using the kid as a lead. I considered that yesterday after I saw his test."