20 November, 1940 - Los Angeles, California
“Where is Cameron Murphy?” Lou Silverman barked into the phone on his desk.
“I don’t know,” Erica replied, her voice wavering across the wire. “But I’ll find him.”
“We were to have met at ten o’clock Monday morning. It’s already Wednesday. If this is any indication of his future behavior, I can’t use Cameron in your picture.”
“Please, Lou, give me twenty-four hours. I’ll find him, and I swear to you, he’ll never pull this stunt again. I’ll stake my own salary on it, Lou.”
“Hate to see you do that, Erica. But you’re absolutely right, he’ll never do this again, because if he does, he’s finished, not just with me, but with every major studio. I’m doing you a favor now as it is.” Lou paused, lowering his voice. “Don’t let me down, Erica, or it’s
