The Cutthroat (Isaac Bell 10)

He sat close to her, took her arm firmly, and spoke his line.

Helen said, “Yes, Mr. Doyle.”

“No, no, no, no.” Apparently baffled, and sounding impatient, he ran his fingers through his hair. Then he patted her shoulder.

Helen Mills said, “I think I could relax a little if you just talked to me for a moment. Tell me about yourself.”

Lockwood smiled, and asked in a husky voice, “What do you want to know?”

“Oh, I don’t know . . . Where were you born? You sound as if you’re from England.”

“Well, that’s very sweet of you to say, but I’m afraid my birthplace is not quite so romantic.”

“I read in a magazine that you’re from London.”

“You’re confusing me with my fellow star. Mr. Vietor is from England.”

“Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry,” Helen said. In fact, Grady Forrer’s researchers had queried the magazine’s editor, who stood by the story but offered no actual proof.

“Sometimes publicists exaggerate.”

“Where were you born?”

“Jersey City. Just across the river from New York. You’re not from New York, are you?”

“Oh, gosh, just a little town you never heard of, in Maryland.”

Lockwood sighed. “You Southern girls are just so exciting, I lose all control around you.”

“Please let go of me, Mr. Lockwood.”

“Now, dear, just relax and get into the mood of your line. You are, after all, saying yes.”

“My ‘yes’ does not go backstage.”

“It better if you want to get on the stage,” he said curtly. “Now, come on, dear, we don’t have all afternoon. I can get you this part with a snap of my fingers.”

“If you don’t take your hands off me, Mr. Lockwood, I will floor you.”

He reached toward her blouse with one hand while attempting to get up her skirt with the other. “You can’t floor me. I’m bigger than you are.”

She could hear Isaac Bell. “You’re a strong girl, Helen. Never give up. Go straight at him.”

“What if he’s too big to fight?”

“Feint. Throw him off.”

Helen laughed loudly.

“Are you laughing at me?”

Lockwood suddenly got a mean look on his face. He raised a hand to slap her.

That left him wide open.

“Thank you for reading, gentlemen,” said Henry Young. “We will be in touch.”

Four actors smiled gamely, thanked the stage manager, and headed up the aisle of the empty theater.