Tell us which novel is this and win two Hector Lassiter e-books of your choice if you are one of the first three people to give the correct answer:
“Old man, I do so appreciate you playing bodyguard to me,” Orson said. “I truly do. But I am racing the clock on multiple fronts as I’ve said, time and again. I have Danton’s Death to mount for the stage, as I’ve also told you, and this Sunday’s radio show, which as you heard for yourself, has all the earmarks of a train wreck barring some serious attention and artistic elbow grease.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” Hector said. “And I won’t be underfoot, if that’s what you’re implying. I frankly don’t trust your memory about the medallion, so I want permission to ransack backstage, to comb through your wardrobe trunks and lockers.”
“Ransack away, but do it as neatly as you can,” Orson said. “John is very fussy. I’ll even let you start with my private dressing room. It’s packed with the surviving detritus of the career running all the way back to that first show in Dublin. But it’s a fruitless pursuit, I can already assure you of that.”
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