Date:         Mon, 25 May 1998 15:39:18 GMT
From: Robyn Harris <Robyn_Harris@POST.WESLEYAN-COLLEGE.EDU>
Organization: Wesleyan College
Subject:      [WRITERS] INT: Goldman Pictures (w/o oops)


        Lareine made her way through the back of the soundstage, 
carefully picking her way over cables.  She opened a dark door 
that read "Janitor's Closet."  Bruno sat inside.
        "Reine!"  He stood up, all 350 pounds of him, and hugged 
her.
        "Bruno!  You still working door for my two-bit uncle?"
        "It's a living," He opened the door behind him.  It was a 
stairwell winding down into the darkness.
        "Good, because there is someone following me.  I don't 
know who it is, but I saw his car earlier and then I saw someone 
coming in behind me," Lareine started down the stairs.
        "I'll take care of it," Bruno touched his jacket.
        "I don't want to know.  What are they filming?"
        "Some Bacall flick."
        "Oh.  Thanks Bruno," Lareine descended down the stairs.  
The door behind her clicked shut and a door at the bottom opened.  
She took the last half of the stairs quickly and emerged through 
the door into a large room.  Uncle Tony was sitting at a long 
table with a few of his men, playing poker.
        "Uncle Tony?"
        Tony turned.  Tony DeLauro was not a small man.  He was 6 
feet tall with dark hair with only the slightest hint of gray.  He 
looked like a movie star, except for the small scar on his 
eyebrow..  "Reine?"
        "Hi Uncle Tony."
        "Reine!  Where have you been?  I've been looking for you 
for a year."
        "I know Uncle, it hasn't been easy shaking your men.  But 
I'm sorry I was trying to hide from you.  I thought--I thought I 
could make it on my own."
        Tony DeLauro walked over and hugged his niece.  "But you 
didn't?"
        "Oh Uncle Tony, it was awful!  I had an interview with 
Harry Goldman.  He tried to get me to..." Lareine whispered into 
her uncle's ear, not wanting the men around to hear her.
        "That son-of-a-bitch."  Tony turned and walked to the 
table.  He picked up a phone.  "I'll kill 'im."
        "Tony!  Don't hurt him, just scare him.  Please?"
        "Lareine I know what's best for you."
        "Please, I want him to live, you can hurt him as long as 
he lives."  Lareine didn't want any blood on her hands, well, not 
much anyway.  She looked up into her Uncle's eyes, pleading.
        "Who can resist that face?" Tony asked his men, 
rhetorically.  "We won't kill him."  He dialed the phone.  Lareine 
felt vindicated.  A buzzer sounded.
        "Someone's comin' Tony," one of the men said.
        "Let 'im in."
        The man walked over to the door and waited for the sound 
of the top door closing.  Once he heard it, he swung the door 
open.  Lareine turned to see a man walk out, in a brown suit and 
loosely knotted black silk tie.  It was the same man she had seen 
talking to Humphrey Bogart on the Goldman lot.
        Tony hung up the phone and turned to the man.  "You must 
be Marlowe's friend, Jake?  John?  Jack?"
        "Jeff."
        "Welcome, Jeff.  Now how in the hell did you get down 
here?"
        Every gun in the room suddenly sighted onto the newcomer.
        "Reine, you get the hell out of her.  There's an extra car 
waiting out the back way."
        "Yes, sir."
        Lareine hurried through the back door.  It had a long 
sloping tunnel that opened up outside the lot.  Lareine climbed 
into the waiting car and gave him directions to her home.
        Meanwhile, downstairs, The newcomer glanced around at his 
adversaries.  There were twenty of them, and no place to hide.  
Trying to be conversational he said, "Nice dish."
        "That's my niece."
        "Aren't they all?"
        "No.  She really is.  Her father was killed by Phil 
Marlowe.  I won't hold that against him though.  Alex was an 
asshole."  Tony holstered his gun and his men followed.
        "Couldn't let her know you were hired by me to tail her.  
She's not really into the family business."
        "Can't imagine why."
        Tony motioned the man to sit at the table.  "You're funny.  
You know that?"









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Robyn Alyson
tHe OnLy DiFfErEnCe BeTwEeN FaNtAsY aNd ReAlItY iS pErCePtIoN