A Knife to Remember by Jill Churchill

supposed to do a scene with Miss Harwell yesterday and she got sick. Measles or something. Jake thought it would be nice if I stepped into her place. I mean, I am here. It would save the producers time from auditioning somebody else. And I have had years of acting lessons, and — anyway, he was just telling me that he'd mentioned the possibility to a few people.”
    Jane and Shelley exchanged meaningful glances. This was probably what Jake was wanting the unknown blackmail victim to help with.
    “I don't understand," Jane said. "Why would that be cause for a disagreement? I'd think you'd be grateful."
    “Oh, I was grateful! Very grateful!" Angela all but shouted. "But I want to make it on my own, you see. By my own talent and skills."
    “Come now, surely it doesn't hurt to have a `legend' point those skills out to others, does it?”
    Angela squirmed. "Well, I think he was a littleah, forceful about it."
    “Forceful?" Shelley asked serenely.
    “Offensive, maybe," Angela allowed. "Well, you had to know Jake to understand, but he never did anything subtle. Not with people. With things, yes. He was great with things. You've never seen anybody pay such fanatic attention to detail. I was an extra on another film he did here last year and it was a period piece and there was luggage. You know, old suitcases with stickers on them like people used to collect? And Jake discovered that some of the stickers weren't from the right period. He stopped the whole production to get them painted out. Now, you know nobody in the audience would ever notice a thing like that, but Jake did and he said he wouldn't have his name on a film that allowed something sloppy like that. He shut down production for a whole day to get it fixed right."
    “That must have made him popular," Shelley said.
    “No, not popular, but he was right. And he was meticulous about being right. That's what made his reputation so great. If a person takes that kind of attention with little things, you know they'll never make big mistakes.”
    Jane wasn't so sure she agreed with this, but didn't argue. Angela was obviously working at leading them off the scent and Jane wasn't to be deterred. "So he was great with things, but not with people, you said?”
    Angela looked defeated. "Yeah."
    “And what had he done regarding you that you objected to?" Jane felt she was stabbing another pin into this beautiful butterfly. But having come this far, they couldn't release her before she confirmed their suspicions.
    Angela looked down at her cup of cocoa, the marshmallows now melted down into a repulsive skin on the surface. "He'd threaten people," she said softly. "He didn't say so exactly, but I could tell what he meant. He was such an overbearing turd when he wanted something."
    “But he wanted it for you, not himself," Jane pointed out.
    Angela laughed bitterly, looking ten years older than she had moments before. "Don't kid yourself. Jake never did anything for anybody without a payoff in mind. He thought he'd do me a favor and I'd fall into bed with him. And in the meantime, half the cast and crew would have hated
me
for this goddamned 'favor' he was supposedly doing me. Some fucking favor!" she said, bursting into tears.
     
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    Jane patted Angela's hand absently while Angela cried it out. Shelley leaned over and whispered to Jane, "Don't let her off the hook yet. Find out what he had over people.”
    Jane whispered back, "A little recess first." Shelley nodded her agreement.
    Angela was sniffling into a paper napkin. "I'm — I'm sorry. I didn't mean to — I wasn't—"
    “It's all right," Jane said in her best motherly tone. "We artists often wear our hearts and emotions very close to the surface.”
    Angela clutched her hand gratefully. "You
do
understand! I knew you would."
    “If you aren't in a scene this morning, what are you doing here?" Jane asked, shifting the subject.
    Angela relaxed visibly. She sniffled a few more times and pulled herself together. "I came