So I’m sprawled in a lounge chair next to the swimming pool at the Chateau Marmont in Hollywood wondering where Teddy is. Theodore Weaver, my father, best friend, and mentor. A brilliant, witty, extraordinary screenwriter. He died in my arms in Rome four nights ago after he finished editing the movie he’d directed that was to be his comeback achievement. Heart attack at the brutally young age of forty-eight.
Despite the aching loss that permeated me and the feeling of being totally alone in a world where no one gives a damn
“An intense, vivid kaleidoscope of a serious novel masquerading as a whodunit.”
—John Weisman, New York Times bestselling author
“Talk about an epoch of dishonest politicians, unscrupulous media, and endemic contempt for the Bill of Rights! Jerry Ludwig serves up a solid pro's view of the movie business during the deadliest years of the Cold War.”
—Michael Butler, co-screenwriter of Clint Eastwood's Pale Rider
“Absolutely riveting. Passionate and principled and sometimes very funny…a cautionary tale about an America when our biggest enemies were secrecy and silence.”
—Patricia Bosworth, author of Anything Your Little Heart Desires