Kingdom of Darkness

  ‘Good to meetcha,’ said Marvin with a broad Chicago accent. He extended a walnut-brown hand to Eddie and Nina in turn. ‘Come on, siddown. Let’s eat. And talk.’

  The five took their places. A waiter was summoned and orders taken, then conversation began in earnest. ‘So, Mr Bronze—’ Nina started.

  ‘Marvin, Marvin! We’re all friends here. Hopefully very good ones by the time we’re done.’

  ‘So, Marvin . . . what do you want to talk to us about?’

  Marvin and Grant swapped glances, Grant grinning with barely contained anticipation. ‘I want to talk to you about you!’ said the older man.

  ‘Us?’ said Eddie. ‘What about us?’

  ‘You’re big properties!’ Marvin proclaimed. ‘You, Nina, I know a publisher in New York offered you six figures to write a book about all those incredible things you’ve discovered. Like Atlantis and the vault of whatsisname, the Indian guy.’

  Nina was startled. ‘How did you know about that? They haven’t announced it publicly, because I don’t know how long it’ll take to write – and they definitely haven’t gone public about the money side of it.’

  He chuckled. ‘If there’s a deal being made that could lead to a movie, Hollywood knows about it. There’s only one thing they’re short of out here, and that’s ideas. They need a constant flow of new ideas for movies. And the best are the ones that come from real life.’ He leaned towards the couple. ‘Let me lay it out for you. Your lives would make fantastic movies. A whole series of movies, even. You two have got the potential to become a billion-dollar franchise!’

  ‘Yeah, but who’d play me?’ Eddie asked while his wife was temporarily dumbstruck. Grant’s smile widened. ‘What? No! You can’t bloody play me!’

  ‘Nothing’s set yet, dude – but I’ve been practising the accent. Check this out.’ The actor cleared his throat. ‘Looook art, thurrs a lurd o’ turrorists cooomin’ o’er that ’ill. Boogration an’ foockry!’

  Nina let out an involuntary yelp of laughter. Her husband was less amused. ‘That’s nothing like me! And it’s not even close to a Yorkshire accent. It’s more like . . . I dunno what the fuck it’s like. A Welsh South African Pakistani Martian, maybe.’

  ‘To be fair, honey,’ said Nina, ‘you can’t do accents either.’ By the time Grant had realised the implied criticism of his efforts, she had already turned back to Marvin. ‘So – you want to buy the movie rights to our lives?’

  ‘No, no,’ he replied, shaking his head. ‘I want to buy the movie rights to the book of your lives. Someone wanted to make a biopic about you, they wouldn’t have to pay you a penny. You’re both public figures.’

  ‘I’m not a public figure,’ Eddie objected.

  ‘Your wife is,’ Marvin told him, ‘so you are too. That’s how it works, like it or not. But my way makes it official. Gives the movie the seal of authenticity.’

  ‘But like I said, I don’t know when the book will be finished,’ said Nina. ‘Or even if.’ Again Macy picked up on the resignation in her tone; the younger woman’s expression became questioning, but she didn’t interrupt. ‘And to be honest, I’m not entirely comfortable with Hollywood turning what I do into mass entertainment. I mean, it’s my work – it’s my life! And real people have died on my archaeological expeditions, friends of ours. I don’t like the idea of moments like that being re-created for people to watch while they’re eating popcorn.’

  ‘I understand, believe me,’ said Marvin. ‘But here’s the thing: like it or not, you are famous, and this is the time to capitalise on it . . . before someone else does. You know how many scripts with the word “Atlantis” in the title are going around the studios? A dozen at least – and they’re all riding on your back. Ancient myths and legends are big right now, and it’s entirely because of the stuff you’ve dug up over the past few years.’

  ‘I think they were already big without me. I mean, they’ve been in the collective consciousness for thousands of years.’

  ‘That’s just it, though. They’ve been there in the background, with nobody really paying any attention until you came along.’ He leaned forward again, hands spread wide. ‘You know what movies are? They’re our modern-day myths and legends. The difference is that they don’t evolve over time, they’re manufactured, fully formed, like Athena born from the forehead of Zeus.’ Noticing Nina’s surprise, he added with a sly smile: ‘What, just ’cause I’m a Hollywood producer I can’t know my classics? You should see my art collection. I can bore for my country about Dutch Renaissance paintings.’

  ‘Oh, he can, man,’ said Grant, pressing fingers to his temple to suppress a headache-inducing memory.

  ‘People believe in movies,’ Marvin went on. ‘And even if what’s up on screen is total bullshit, it still gets taken in.’ His gaze became more intense behind his tinted glasses. ‘Nina, this is your chance to make sure that the story being told on that screen – your story – is true. What do you say?’

  Feeling uncomfortably as though she was being bamboozled by an expert, Nina looked to Eddie for advice, but he could only manage an uncertain shrug. ‘I’ll . . . think about it,’ she eventually said.

  This seemed to satisfy Marvin for the moment; she was sure he would follow up with more persistence before long. ‘Good, great,’ he said as the waiter approached with their first courses. ‘Okay, now let’s eat.’

  2

  ‘That’s the Hollywood sign?’ said Eddie, disappointed. ‘It’s a bit small, innit?’

  He and Nina stood with Macy on Hollywood Boulevard, looking up the flight of stairs beside the Kodak Theater at the distant landmark, its white letters shimmering in the summer heat. Grant and Marvin had stayed at the studio to attend another meeting. ‘Well, it is quite a long way away,’ Nina pointed out.

  ‘I was still expecting something more impressive. I thought it’d be three hundred feet tall with spotlights and animatronic dinosaurs or whatever.’

  ‘When I first came here, I thought it’d be bigger too,’ admitted Macy. ‘It was kind of a let-down.’

  ‘That’s Hollywood for you, I suppose,’ Nina said. ‘It all looks a lot more spectacular and glamorous on the big screen. Anyway, at least now you can say you’ve seen it.’

  Eddie took a photo with his phone, and they headed back towards their waiting limo. ‘Speaking of the big screen, what did you reckon to all that stuff Marvin was saying?’

  ‘I dunno. I really don’t. On the one hand, somebody wants to make a movie about my life. How flattering is that? On the other . . .’ Nina sighed. ‘I dread to think what they might do with it.’

  ‘Christ, yeah,’ Eddie agreed. ‘For a start, Grant playing me? For fuck’s sake! Maybe Jason Statham or Tom Hardy, someone like that, I could cope with. But not a bloody Californian surfer dude.’

  ‘And who’d play me? Some bimbo with huge fake boobs, probably.’

  ‘I’d pay to see that,’ he said, smirking. Nina slapped his arm.

  ‘Hey, if they make a sequel about finding the Pyramid of Osiris, I could play myself!’ Macy chirped.

  The smirk widened. ‘That’ll save ’em having to look for a bimbo with huge fake boobs.’ Nina batted Eddie’s arm again; Macy took a moment to work out exactly what he had meant, then followed suit. ‘Ow.’

  ‘Serves you right,’ Nina told him, before taking his hand as they walked along. ‘I don’t know,’ she said again. ‘I have to admit that I’m tempted. And assuming that Marvin was only partially bullshitting us rather than totally, it seems like the potential money from a successful movie is astronomical. But would it be selling out? Is it cheapening everything I’ve worked for?’

  Eddie squeezed her hand. ‘Only you can figure that one out, love. Although the kind of money he was talking about was pretty mind-blowing, even more than the book deal. You could fund your own expeditions, never mind going
through the IHA.’

  She became downcast. ‘I won’t get to go on them, though, will I?’

  Macy suddenly stopped, taking Nina’s wrist and pulling her and Eddie to a halt. ‘Okay, so what’s going on?’ she demanded. ‘That’s the third time you’ve said something that sounds as if you’re giving up archaeology. I know you, Nina – that’d be like you giving up . . .’ She tried to think of a comparison. ‘Breathing.’

  ‘I don’t really want to talk about it,’ Nina told her.

  The younger woman snorted. ‘You know that now I totally won’t give up asking until you do, right?’

  Eddie recognised his wife’s growing discomfort and attempted to change the subject. ‘Hey, cool!’ he cried, looking down at his feet. ‘I’m standing on William Shatner!’ Set into the paving was one of the many pink marble stars along the Hollywood Walk of Fame. ‘That’s made my day.’

  ‘Shouldn’t you be standing on Clint Eastwood to say that?’ said Nina.

  ‘Clint doesn’t have a star; I looked it up.’ He turned and swept an arm back at those they had already passed. ‘Can you believe that? Clint fucking Eastwood doesn’t have a Hollywood star! He was Dirty Harry, the Man With No Name – and he was in my favourite film of all time!’

  ‘Which one?’ asked Macy.

  ‘Where Eagles Dare! Absolute classic.’

  ‘Isn’t that the one where he just, like, shoots hundreds of Nazis?’

  ‘Like I said, classic.’

  ‘He bought a PlayStation 4 just so he could watch it on Blu-ray,’ said Nina with humorous despair. They continued back towards Grauman’s Chinese Theatre, a short way down the street.

  Seeing that Macy had no intention of dropping her line of questioning, Eddie decided to distract her again. ‘You know what, though? If they do make a movie about us, that means there’ll be an Eddie Chase action figure! That’d be pretty cool.’

  ‘Yeah, but it’d look like Grant,’ Macy pointed out.

  ‘What?’ He scowled. ‘Buggeration and fuckery, it would, wouldn’t it?’

  ‘I’m also not sure that toy companies would want to make a figure whose catchphrase is “Buggeration and fuckery”,’ added his wife.

  They reached Grauman’s, where their ride was waiting. Nina pursed her lips at the sight. ‘I know Grant wanted to do something nice for us, but did he have to hire that?’ Their limousine was a gaudy, chrome-dripping Hummer H2, stretched to almost double its original not inconsiderable length. ‘Everyone’ll think I’m on my prom night.’

  ‘That’s your big problem,’ said Eddie. ‘You actually give a crap what people think.’ He took a photo of the iconic cinema. ‘Okay, that’s another one crossed off my list of things to see.’

  ‘It’s in a great location,’ said Nina sarcastically. ‘Directly opposite a Hooters.’

  Eddie looked across the street at the chain restaurant. ‘I dunno, seems fine to me. Watch a film, cross the road, get some nosh and ogle girls in tight tops and hot pants . . .’ He trailed off as he noticed something else.

  ‘Y’know, most women would consider half the stuff that comes out of your mouth as grounds for divorce,’ Nina joked, before realising that his expression had changed. With slight concern – she had seen the look too many times before – she followed his gaze. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘That Jeep there,’ said Eddie. A bright yellow Jeep Wrangler had stopped at the kerb about twenty yards behind them.

  ‘What about it?’

  ‘It’s keeping pace with us. It was parked about that far away from the Shat’s star, and I’m sure it was on the corner when we were looking at the Hollywood sign.’

  ‘You think it’s following us?’ Nina said, dubious.

  As if the driver had realised he had been seen, the Jeep suddenly pulled out. Eddie watched it pass, but caught only a glimpse of a young blond man through the tinted windows. It reached the junction with North Orange Drive and turned left, disappearing from sight. ‘See?’ she said. ‘He’s gone.’

  ‘For now,’ said Eddie, still staring after it.

  ‘Oh, come on. Why would anyone be following us around? Unless it was some rival producer to Marvin. I mean, pretty much everybody who’s ever had a problem with us is dead. Except for ex-president Dalton, but after he got arrested I’d imagine he has bigger things to worry about than us.’

  ‘Yeah, like not dropping the soap in the shower.’ He tapped on one of the limo’s windows.

  The driver’s door opened, and a young Hispanic man in a shiny and slightly too tight uniform hopped out. ‘There you are!’ he said, scurrying to open the rear door for them. ‘Did you see the Hollywood sign?’

  ‘Thanks, Hector,’ said Nina, climbing inside. ‘Yes, we did.’

  ‘It was so bloody small we had to squint,’ Eddie added, joining her.

  ‘Yeah, people always think it’s bigger than it really is,’ Hector said. He waited for Macy to get in, then closed the door and returned to his seat. ‘So where you going next?’

  ‘Rodeo Drive, please,’ Nina told him.

  ‘Hey, Beverly Hills! You’ll like it. Very classy. Very expensive.’ He put the oversized 4x4 into drive and carefully merged with the traffic.

  ‘Good choice,’ said Macy. She opened her little Victoria Beckham handbag. ‘And gee, look! Grant loaned me his credit card.’

  ‘Poor bugger,’ said Eddie. He settled beside Nina on one of the plump scarlet bench seats running the limo’s length. ‘Why do you want to go there anyway?’ he asked her. ‘It’s just shops.’

  Nina retrieved a pamphlet from her own bag. ‘I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Eddie, but I’m a woman.’

  ‘That explains the nice soft curvy bits and the lack of hairy bollocks, then.’

  She laughed as Macy held in a giggle. ‘And as a woman, sometimes – not often, as I’m sure you’re very happy about, but sometimes – I have the urge to look at things I don’t need and can’t afford in places I’d never normally go. And since we’re in the same city as one of the most ridiculously overpriced shopping streets on the planet, this is one of those times.’

  ‘You live in New York!’ Eddie hooted. ‘The IHA is five blocks from Fifth Avenue!’

  ‘That’s different. We’re on vacation!’ She unfolded the pamphlet to reveal a map of Beverly Hills. ‘Hector, how long will it take to get there?’

  ‘This traffic?’ their driver replied. ‘About twenty-five, thirty minutes.’

  Nina shook her head. ‘What is it about Los Angeles?’ she asked Macy rhetorically. ‘No matter where you are, the place you want to go is always a thirty-minute drive away. And there’s nothing interesting in between.’ She flicked a dismissive glance at the low-rise sprawl of office blocks and mini malls outside.

  ‘Good job we’re in here, then,’ said Eddie. The limo was home to a well-stocked bar. ‘We don’t have to drive, so we might as well get bladdered. You want something?’

  ‘Ehh . . . why not?’ Nina had already had two glasses of wine over the long lunch with Grant and Marvin, and had briefly been considering one of the miniature bottles of Perrier in the glass-fronted fridge . . . but they were on vacation. ‘What have they got?’

  ‘Loads of spirits – tequila, brandy, vodka, rum . . .’

  ‘A bit much for the afternoon. Any wine?’

  He took out a chilled bottle of champagne. ‘This do you?’

  ‘Perfect. Since Grant’s paying for it.’

  Eddie unwrapped the foil, and a loud pop! echoed through the limo as he removed the cork. ‘Whoa, it’s got a bit overexcited!’ he said as froth gushed on to his hand. Nina hurriedly used a glass to catch it. ‘Thanks.’ He filled it for her. ‘Macy?’

  ‘You are old enough to drink legally, aren’t you?’ Nina asked teasingly as Macy brought up a glass.

  ??
?Yeah!’ she huffed. ‘I’m twenty-one now. Finally!’

  Eddie poured a glass for himself, then put the bottle into an ice bucket. ‘Something to celebrate, then. Cheers!’

  ‘Cheers!’ the two women echoed. They all clinked glasses and took sips, though Nina’s was by far the largest.

  ‘Ooh, and I’ve got something else to celebrate,’ said Macy, retrieving a larger designer tote bag from the back of the cabin. ‘My photo shoot!’ She took out a glossy men’s magazine. ‘Grant knows the editor; he set it up for me. Here, check this out.’

  ‘Oooo . . . kay,’ Nina said slowly as she took in the double-page picture. Macy, pouting seductively at the camera, was posing atop a rock before a vivid orange desert sunset. Her long dark hair had been tied back into a loose ponytail, and she had a gleaming pistol in each hand. The headline read: TRUE-LIFE TOMB RAIDER. ‘Is that . . . are you dressed as Lara Croft?’

  ‘Pretty good likeness,’ said Eddie with an approving nod. ‘You got the tight top and hot pants right, too.’

  ‘Thanks!’ Macy replied.

  Nina had already moved on to the accompanying text, her attention caught by a familiar name. ‘Hey, this mentions me.’ She took the magazine from Macy.

  ‘Let’s see,’ said Eddie. ‘Where . . . oh, there. “As a student of famous archaeologist Nina Wilde, Macy discovered the long-lost Pyramid of Osiris deep in the Egyptian desert, and later uncovered the legendary El Dorado, City of Gold, hidden in the mountains of Peru. But as our sizzling shoot reveals, she’s every bit as sexy as she is smart.”’

  ‘You weren’t my student!’ Nina objected.

  Macy gave an apologetic shrug. ‘Yeah, I told them that, but I guess they thought it sounded better.’

  ‘So what else did they get wrong?’ Nina quickly read on, turning the page to reveal a second spread of similarly provocative portraits. ‘“With a boyfriend like Hollywood star Grant Thorn and a screen career on the horizon, it would be easy for Macy to take the road to the high life. But the Miami native insists she’s keeping her archaeological options open. She’s no mere MAW, but a real-life Lara Croft whose future is as exciting as the treasures of the past she digs up . . .” What’s a MAW?’