“Lou Katz. Morris Agency.”

“Lou works with Abe Lastfogel,” Lasner explained.

“I’m his number two,” Katz said, evidently a point. “You’re with Continental?”

“The Army,” Lasner said. “He’s making pictures for the Army.”

“Oh,” Katz said, his eyes beginning to move away. “You know who this is?” Lasner said. “Otto Kohler’s kid.”

“Really,” Katz said uneasily, not sure he could admit the name meant nothing.

“The director,” Lasner said. “Silents.”

“Right, silents,” Katz said, relieved. “Let me get us some drinks. You’re fine?” He nodded at Ben’s hand and without waiting for an answer headed into the bar crowd.

“Watch this,” Lasner said. “You want a drink right away, always travel with the Morris office.”

“Sorry about today. I thought you’d be busy.”

“So come now.” He glanced at his watch. “We’ve got the eight seating. It’ll be a help to me. You have dinner with Katz, you always feel a hand in your pocket. Look at this, what did I tell you?”

Katz was slipping through the crowd, drinks in hand.

“Looks like a full train,” he said. “You see Julie Sherman over there?” He nodded toward the starlet from the bond drive. “You know Fox isn’t picking up her option.”

“Lou, don’t peddle,” Lasner said. “Anyway, what would I do with her?”

“Nobody ever lost money showing tits. Your health,” he said, raising his glass.

“Then what happened at Fox?”

“Too much like Tierney. Who needs two? She should be somewhere they work with the talent. You know she can sing? Test her. See what she can do. You can’t run a studio on loan-outs.”

“How many times, Lou? Contract talent’s okay for the programmers. That’s your base,” he said, demonstrating with his hands. “Up here you don’t want to carry around that kind of expense. You get top-heavy. For A pictures, buy what you need. How many A’s do I make? Sell her to Metro, they can afford it.”