Monday, April 13: The Scribbler
EVERY SINGLE ONE of the Criminal Brief authors last week picked up on Leigh’s delusional rants about a Criminal Brief Corporate Headquarters and wrote independently about it. Honest, it was nothing like an assignment—everybody chose to write about the same thing without consulting with anybody else. And to prove it, you’ll notice that our descriptions are all different. I can explain Steve’s, at least: he got off the elevator on the wrong floor. As far as John’s claim that there’s a firing range in the building, now we know what’s at the top of those stairs! Below, you will find my own description.
Just goes to show how different writers treat the same material differently. —JLW
THE VIRTUAL TOUR
by James Lincoln Warren
Since there has been so much interest expressed on this website in the Criminal Brief Corporate Headquarters, I thought I would give the Gentle Reader a virtual tour of our digs.
CBHQ is located on the sixth floor of the Cahuenga Building on Hollywood Boulevard in Los Angeles, near Ivar Avenue, about halfway between Vine and Cahuenga.
Our receptionist is named Velma. As you are probably aware, she was hired behind my back by Leigh, but quickly made herself indispensable. Last week she quit to go to work for Mickey Spillane, but came back three days later when she discovered that the Mickster had gone to that great Detective Agency in the Sky back in 2006. She was a little embarrassed about it so we don’t mention it. Here she is—the perceptive Gentle Reader may note that she bears a striking resemblance to the ’40s-era movie starlet Helen Gilbert, who played Diana Kenyon in the 1942 George Sanders movie, “The Falcon Takes Over”.
Velma also does some secretarial work, although not all that much since all of us CBers can type. Here’s her desk. As you can see, she’s got a very nice view. (I have to remember to call the sign company and get the names of the previous tenants removed from the window.) The fedora on the coat rack on the right belongs to Deborah Elliott-Upton. The funny-looking bird paperweight on the left was delivered by mistake by a certain Captain Jacobi, but he died before he could tell us who it actually belonged to—personally, I suspect it has something to do with George Sanders’ portrayal of “The Falcon”, but I could be wrong. I think it’s ugly, but Velma thinks it’s kind of cute so we let her keep it. She’ll be disappointed if the owner ever shows up and claims it.
Writing is a hungry business, and so we have a buffet concession open 24 hours a day. Most of the seafood is shipped in from Robicheaux’s Dock and Bait Shop in New Iberia, Louisiana, but shrimp is not served. Our regular chef is a big, dour guy named Spenser—nobody knows his first name and he has this irritating whiny girlfriend named Susan who won’t shut up and could really use some therapy, if you know what I mean. But the food’s fabulous.
Melodie’s office is the first on the right as you go down the main corridor. Because her office backs the alley, she doesn’t get a lot of light and so we put in a lot of extra illumination for her, as you can see. The 18th-century theme was my idea, because I felt that Melodie deserves the only most elegant surroundings. Although (except for me) she’s the person who lives closest to HQ, being from Santa Barbara, she doesn’t come in to the office very often, because she’s usually somewhere else entirely. We try to make her feel right at home when she’s here, though.
Rob’s office is right across the hall and doubles as our reference library. Because his office fronts on Hollywood, light isn’t a problem here—but what are problems are (1) getting lost when you go in, because the room is like some strange endless labyrinth, and (2) finding Rob, because he’s usually off in some hidden nook or corner cradling some rare book or other. I think that’s behavior he acquired in his civilian job.
Deborah’s office is right next door. As you can see, it’s light and airy and comfortable and has a comfy domestic quality to it, and has a balcony she uses to pace in when she wants to be alone to think about plots. There’s also that typical feminine touch of greenery you find in places where women work, but you have to be careful, because all of the plants are deadly poisonous. We also keep the armory in Deborah’s room because she doesn’t trust any of the rest of us with loaded firearms. An inveterate do-it-yourselfer, she did all the decorating herself.
Steve’s office is across the corridor, adjacent to Melodie’s. He used to share it with John, but that didn’t work out. (More about that later.) When we were first doing the planning, there was some friction between Steve and Rob regarding who would get to house the reference library, but that was settled when it was decided that Steve would get the forensics lab instead. I’m pretty sure that the decor is so unusual because Steve uses the office to rehearse his magic routine, but every time I think I’ve caught him in the act, he points to a far corner and says, “Look at that!” and I forget why I’m there. It’s also the only room in the suite that you have to enter through a mirror.
Since John was the most recent addition to the staff, originally he and Steve shared Steve’s office, but John found it too distracting and for a while we were at a loss where to put him, since all the rest of the rooms on the sixth floor were taken. We solved it by putting his office on the seventh floor with access via a stairway. I was told by the contractor that any resemblance between John’s staircase and the one in Tara in “Gone With the Wind” is strictly a coincidence, but I’m not too sure. John and the contractor spoke with each other in an indecipherable slow drawl and kept looking at the rest of us as if we weren’t in on the joke, although both of them were unfailingly polite. When I asked John who the two women in this photo were, he just said, “Fiddle-dee-dee. I’ll think about that tomorrow.”
Logistically, Leigh’s was the most difficult office space. He absolutely refused to have any internet access, or even a telephone—I don’t know exactly why, but I think it’s so he can spend more time hanging around Velma’s desk, although it might have something to do with alligators and parrots constantly chewing on electrical cables. Anyway, his standards were so exacting that we wound up spending a lot more money than we had originally budgeted for, but he’s happy with the result.
Because I’m the editor, I got the corner office at the end of the corridor. I was a little concerned about the crazy tilt of the far wall, and whenever there’s an earthquake the whole room rolls like it was standing out from Portsmouth Harbour under courses, topsails, and topgallants, but I can’t fault it for comfort.
So there it is, folks. Hope you enjoyed the tour. Drop in whenever you’d like.
I see you took the best room for yourself. So it’s true, rank has its privileges.
Great job, James. I love my office.
I have talked here before about Terry Pratchett’s DiscWorld novels. He mentions the concept of L-space: that all libraries are interconnected. Borges would have liked that.
Legal thriller writer Steve Martini used to live in my town. For a while he had an office to write in, on the second floor of a building in a touristy part of town. Guess what it said on the window? Yup, Spade and Archer…
Loved this! If the only thing not going wrong with my computer today is that I can read “CB” then I’m having a good day! (Good grief! Spillane was actually a family friend of our District Attorney!!!)
James,
I love my office, but those lights get hot. Thanks for using Marlene Deitrich’s soft pink light it takes years off of me.
Leigh’s office is a howl.
When James asked me where I wanted my office to be, I told him I frankly didn’t give a damn. Later I heard that Leigh told him the same thing. I guess James took him seriously.
(laughing)
It’s that homey look: That’s what my house looked like after the hurricanes.
Hey, you’re office looks like the interior of a pirate ship. Maybe a mutiny is in order, because there is no booty like plundered booty
Because of my decor, James is frequently in my office to perform Masonic rites. The Hebrew symbolism and the magical apparatus come in handy.
My only complaint is the spell of formaldehyde that comes with housing the forensics lab. That’s why I’m often in Rob’s suite, taking in the bouquet of old books.
John really moved out of my office because I have so much “stuff” (just ask the wench) that he didn’t have room to unpack. Now the b@st@rd has the roomiest office in the building and he never invites me up.
I’d forgotten that the ship captain in Maltese Falcon (a character who is referred to but I don’t think ever appeared) was named “Jacobi.” I wonder if he’s related to Peter Gunn’s pal Lt. Jacoby (who was played by Herschel Bernardi) or to my brother-in-law. I’ll have to ask.
Come up and visit anytime, Steve-o. (As long as you bring some DVDs to loan me.)
Leigh…..what a dump (no pun).
Velma said she stored her booty there though.
I suppose your office has its merit.
LOL Love it.
I’m borrowing James’ office for the filming of my latest novel, The Golden Hind, starring J-Lo.
I’m dying of laughter.
Great. J-Lo just stormed off set. She said the room had bad vibes and reeked of booze. Knew I shouldn’t have SNUCK in that bottle of rum.
Travis I think Melodie would better suit your movie. She knows stuff. Plus she is on the right wing.
You should be a better sneak. You should’ve snucked (snort!!) in everclear. It doesn’t reek.
I haven’t thought of everclear in a long time! I guess because I couldn’t think back “then” as ever clear as now.
You could go to Leigh’s dump. My favorite of all the offices though is a toss up between Steve’s office and John’s.
I so wanted to like Deborah’s being a fellow Texan and all, but that dead cow chair and all those horny things hanging around just didn’t quite get my muse going.
I love movies. I think I’ll go visit Melodie.
I’m surprised nobody noticed that CBHQ‘s address is the same as Philip Marlowe’s. But for the record:
Melodie’s office is the Gramercy Studios in New York. The picture was taken in 1930. It took me a long time to find a picture of a soundstage with character—Melodie being a master at the character-driven mystery, you see, as well as our resident actress. She’s always a star as far as I’m concerned.
Rob’s is the Bodleian Library at Oxford University, perhaps the most famous library in Europe, and certainly one of the oldest, and a Mecca for librarians everywhere. The stacks at Trinity in Dublin may be prettier, but they are no holier. Of course in the text, I had to compare it to Borges’ Library of Babylon, another tip o’ the hat to Rob.
Deborah’s is just a Western-themed office—I had wanted to use the Longhorn Museum at the Lone Star Brewery in San Antonio for it, a place I loved as a kid, but I couldn’t find a good enough picture. Don’t forget that I’m a Texan, too, folks, and I wanted to share that proud heritage with our lovely Femme Fatale.
Steve’s is supposedly the entrance to King Solomon’s Temple, but that doesn’t explain why you can clearly see the Ark of the Covenant and, rather anachronistically, a menorah—menorahs date from the time of the Maccabees (2nd c. BCE) and represent the rededication of the Temple after it had been desecrated by the Seleucids. That was the Second Temple, sometimes called Herod’s Temple although Herod didn’t get around to adding his bits to it until more than a hundred years later—and as all good Masons know (I am one but Steve is not), the term “King Solomon’s Temple” refers only to the First Temple. So which is it? Dunno. By the time of the Maccabees, the Ark had been lost for centuries, so you can’t have both the Ark and a menorah existing in the Temple at the same time. But either way, it does look way cool. And magical—and Steve’s magic is not entirely of the illusory variety.
John’s, obviously, is the famous staircase at Tara where Scarlett shot the Yankee sergeant—not the staircase that Scarlett fell down in Atlanta. For those who have never met John, he really is a quintessential Southern gentleman, gracious and easy, polite to a tee without ever seeming coldly formal, the sort of man who makes whomever he addresses feel important. It was the grace and beauty of the stately South I wanted to suggest, in tribute to him.
Leigh’s is a shack in the Everglades. It was chosen in tribute to his amazing story, “Swamped”, which made history in 2006 by being the first time an Ellery Queen’s Reader’s Choice Award ever went to a first-time author. Of course, CBHQ was his idea to begin with.
Mine is the Great Cabin, i.e., the admiral’s quarters, on HMS Victory, Lord Nelson’s flagship, which is kept at drydock in Portsmouth, England. Nelson, of course, was the greatest naval warrior of all time, the Alexander of the sea, and one of my heroes. When I was a mere Ensign, I got one of the thrills of my life when I was piped aboard. Nelson would probably not have approved, though—he didn’t like Americans.
A lot of thought and work went into that, James. You did us proud!
James,
I loved that my elegant office was in black and white and the actors were wearing white powderd wigs. And that Gramercy Studios must have been near Gramercy Park which does have a literary history. (Henry James etc.)
Okay, I didn’t pick up on where Marlowe lived. But I’m up for jury duty. Where’s my powdered wig?
You’re the tops.
It’s the same address as Marlowe’s office, not where he lived. He moved around a lot, just like Chandler, but the office was always on the sixth floor of the (fictional) Cahuenga Building.