The Cutthroat (Isaac Bell 10)

“Just a minute, dear. Grandpa is holding me.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” said Isaac Bell, tightening his grip when Marion attempted, halfheartedly, to slip off his lap.

“Grandma!”

They were visiting the New York branch of what had become a large family of private detectives. This bunch descended from dark-eyed offspring of Harry Warren, with dollops of Millses, Dashwoods, and Abbotts.

“I better see what’s happening.”

“I’ll back you up,” said Bell.

In a book-lined room filled with toys and children, the TV was tuned to Channel 9, a local New York station that showed old movies. Film credits were flickering oddly, frozen on the screen.

“Look, Grandma.”

It looked to Bell like the projectionist was on his coffee break. Marion said the f

ilm-chain’s pull-down claw had ripped through adjacent sprocket holes. A transparent “fire door” was keeping the hot projector lamp from melting the stuck film, and wasn’t it wonderful they had transferred flammable nitrate film to safety stock.

“Grandma!”

“Marion, what time did you say the Abbotts were coming to pick up all these little urchins?” Bell asked. “They’re taking all of them ice skating in the park, aren’t they?”

“They’ll be here by three.”

“Look, Grandma,” called a persistent voice.

Marion found her glasses and looked at the end credits still shivering in place.

“Oh, it’s Jekyll and Hyde. Did you like it, children?”

“Yeah, it was neat.”

“Yes, it was fun to watch?”

“It wasn’t fun to make,” said Bell.

“Isaac!”

“See, Grandma? It says ‘Marion Morgan Bell.’ That’s you.”

“Why’s your name on the movie, Grandma?”

“Because I made it.”

“You did? It was really scary, Grandma.”

“Really spooky,” added a little boy, who had climbed the back of the chair and was now seated on Bell’s shoulder. Another started climbing the tall detective’s leg.

“Grandma, did you know Grandpa when you made the movie?”

“Look down in that corner. Can you read that?”

The frame was jumping and reading it was difficult.

“‘Special’ is the first word,” she prompted.

“‘Special . . . thanks—to Isaac Bell.’ That’s Grandpa!”