“L.A. is going to be under water in twenty years. As an American, I figure I should do my bit to help out.”
He eyes me before deciding I’m joking. He takes a clipboard from the wall inside his hut.
“Name?”
I have no idea what name Ritchie or Lucifer gave the guy.
“Stark.”
The guard scans the list and nods. He hands me a plastic parking permit about the size of a hardback book.
“Keep that on your dashboard in plain view.”
He pulls a white paper map of the lot from the back of the clipboard and hands it to me, pointing to landmarks with his pen.
“Follow the outside road around the edge of the lot. The soundstage you want is all the way on the far side. There are some producers’ bungalows nearby. That’s where you can park.”
“Thanks.”
“Looks like there’s a hell of a production going on out there.”
“That’s the idea.”
I follow the road around the outside of the lot. On my left is the freeway. On the studio side, there are forklifts and sweaty guys putting up scaffolding outside soundstages. Men and women in khakis and button-down shirts cruise by them on golf carts. The stages look like blimp hangars, giant humpback Quonset huts with huge posters of the studio’s new releases. The place is about as glamorous as dental surgery.
I park the car outside the bungalows, take the knife from the ignition, and slip it back inside my coat.
There’s a soundstage across the road. Outside, a hundred people are unloading trucks, telling other people how to unload trucks, or sitting in trucks waiting to be unloaded. Ritchie and Lucifer are at the edge of the chaos, with Ritchie pointing at some papers and then at the stage, where they’re building something huge. Old women in elaborately decorated robes carry incense among the workers. Others walk around the perimeter with bottles in each hand. From one they sprinkle sacred oil on the ground. From the other they sprinkle what smells like animal blood.
Ritchie waves me over. He nods at the car when I get close.
“She’s a beauty. How long have you had her?”
“A half hour, give or take.”
“You know, if you leave the windows down like that, the sun is going to bleach the upholstery.”
“That’s okay. I only drive cars once.”
Ritchie looks from me to the car and back. It takes him a minute, but he finally gets it.
“I see.”
“Keep it, if you want. It drives like a dream. There aren’t any keys, but I’m sure someone around here can change the VIN and slap in a new ignition.”
Lucifer watches the old women make their rounds. Ritchie’s eyes flick down to my waist. He’s spotted the gun and smiles.
“Have you ever been on a movie lot before?”
“Can’t say that I have.”
“Then this ought to be pretty interesting for you.”
“Okay.”
“Let me give you a tour. We’re shooting all the Heaven sequences first, so that’s what’s being built right now. I guess you’ll have to take my word for that since you’re better acquainted with the other place.”
“Heaven for the weather and Hell for the company.”