To Kill the Duke Read Online Free PDF Page B

with the phone in his hand when his secretary waltzed in.
    “Mr. Powell, I have the Fox people on hold,” she said.
    “Buzz ‘em on in after you keep them on hold for 30 seconds,” he said.
    “You’ll have to hang up the phone,” she said.
    She went to her desk and passed the call back to her boss’ line as he had requested.
    “Hello. Thanks for getting back to me,” Dick said into the phone.
    There was no one on the other end. Just when Dick was about to hang up, a woman’s voice came on and told him to hold the line for just a few more seconds.
    “Crap,” Powell said to his empty office. “I always lose playing this game.”
    “Hey Powell, this is Strabala over at Fox. What can we do for you?” the executive asked.
    “I need a loan-out,” Powell said.
    “For what project?” Strabala asked.
    “Now Strabala, if I tell you that, you’ll steal it,” Dick said.
    “Of course we will. Then, we will need a loan-out and you’ll steal the project from us. I think that is how the game is played,” Strabala said sarcastically.
    “I don’t play games. You guys know that,” Powell said sternly.
    “Just kidding, Dick. No one can play games and work for Howard Hughes. Who do you want?” Strabala asked in a very nice voice.
    Thinking he was being cute, Powell said “MB.”
    “Brando!!!!!!!!!!!??” Strabala screamed. “Are you crazy?”
    How come he knew what MB stood for right away and I didn’t?
a slightly wounded Powell thought to himself?
    “Yes and no,” a composed Dick Powell answered his counterpart at Fox.
    “I think you mean ‘yes,’” commented Strabala.
    “Look
quid pro quo
. Give me Brando for my picture and I’ll help you on anything you might need. Remember
anything
can happen in this business… especially down the line with Howard Hughes owing you a favor,” Powell reminded Strabala.
    “Anything but you guys getting Brando. Do you know how many stars or would-be stars my boss has lost to yours?” Strabala asked Powell.
    “Strabala, just what are you talking about?” A frustrated Dick Powell asked, because Dick Powell couldn’t remember his studio signing any of Fox’s stars during his tenure.
    “Hughes has fucked so many of my bosses’ girlfriends, while they thought that the girls were being loyal to them. There is no way he would loan out anything to you guys, let alone Brando,” Strabala said.
    “You’re joking,” Powell said.
How does Howard have the time to make billions, invent things, fly planes and screw so many women?
Powell thought as he waited for Strabala to answer him.
    “You don’t know do you, Dick?” Strabala said.
    “Know what?!” Powell yelled.
    “I forgot. You’re one of the
good guys
in Hollywood. Principled. A loving husband and father. Work hard, make an honest buck. A great boss. Everyone likes you. You don’t play in the promiscuous part of our community,” Strabala said.
    “I will take that as a compliment… I think,” Powell said.
    “So, you’re wondering what this has to do with business.” Strabala asked.
    “You’re a mind reader, Strabala. Of course I want to know how what you just said has anything to do with us making a bona fide offer to your bosses to obtain your contract player for one picture,” a confused Dick Powell asked of his parallel at Fox Studios.
    “Hold on Dick, it’s one of my bosses.”
    Powell started to fume while he waited for Strabala to return to the phone line. He thought,
he should just throw the big money offer, because money was always more important in Hollywood than sex… or revenge — no matter how good the sex or how great the revenge.
    “Basically… nothing, Dick. My bosses aren’t going to do anything for Howard. Tell Hughes that this time, his little dick — by the way, no pun intended — has finally cost him,” Strabala said.
    There has to be a better… no, another way,
Dick Powell thought as he rubbed his chin thinking about how to answer what he’d just heard. Dick Powell,