I told him I’d have to consult Mike and I did. We were up against it. We called a conference.
“Kessler tells me he has troubles. I guess you all know what they are.” They all knew.
Johnson spoke up. “He’s right, too. We know better. Where did you get it?”
I turned to Mike. “Want to do the talking?”
A shake of his head. “You’re doing all right.”
“All right.” Kessler hunched a little forward and Marrs lit another cigarette. “We weren’t lying and we weren’t exaggerating when we said the actual photography was ours. Every frame of film was taken right here in this country, within the last few months. Just how—I won’t mention why or where—we can’t tell you just now.” Kessler snorted in disgust. “Let me finish.
“We all know that we’re cashing in, hand over fist. And we’re going to cash in some more. We have, on our personal schedule, five more pictures. Three of that five we want you to handle as you did the others. The last two of the five will show you both the reason for all the childish secrecy, as Kessler calls it, and another motive that we have so far kept hidden. The last two pictures will show you both our motives and our methods; one is as important as the other. Now— is that enough? Can we go ahead on that basis?”
It wasn’t enough for Kessler. “That doesn’t mean a thing to me. What are we, a bunch of hacks?”
Johnson was thinking about his bank balance. “Five more. Two years, maybe four.”
Marrs was skeptical. “Who do you think you’re going to kid that long? Where’s your studio? Where’s your talent? Where do you shoot your exteriors? Where do you get costumes and your extras? In one single shot you’ve got forty thousand extras, if you’ve got one! Maybe you can shut me up, but who’s going to answer the questions that Metro and Fox and Paramount and RKO have been asking? Those boys aren’t fools, they know their business. How do you expect me to handle any publicity when I don’t know what the score is, myself?”