Rae returned the smile and repeated the same words. Then they shook hands. Rae thought Max held her hand for a few seconds longer than needed, surely a deliberate move, and she could feel her face blush.
Sam, her boss, was already waiting for them. He knew them well and had obviously guessed they would both be coming in early. He waved for them to come into his office, which was surrounded by glass so he could see everything that happened at the work place.
He was a gruff boss and demanded much from his workers, but he was always fair, honest and very encouraging. Rae knew that if you did Sam wrong, lied or came in late too often, he would lay into you. And if it continued, you were out of there in a minute.
Rae got along with Sam now. At first when she came to work for him at the New York Reader she wondered if this was where she was supposed to be. But after a while, because she admired Sam's honesty and his fair play to the staff, she knew this was the right place for her. Outside of the office she referred to Sam as her "Teddy Bear."
Max and Rae went into Sam's office. Staff who were on the early shift were watching to see their reaction, but Rae knew they would not be able to hear any of the conversation.
Sam was talking and waving his arms. "I like you both, and you are both well qualified to handle this assignment. So this has been a hard decision for me to make, as just one of you will be writing this story that will go into the first edition of our new magazine, Stars of Yester-Years. For the one who doesn't get this assignment, there will be other opportunities. And I assure you that the next major assignment will automatically be yours.
"So this is what I am going to do. Look, I have two slips of paper in my hand. One has your name on it, Max, and the other has your name on it, Rae. I want you to look at them so you will have no doubt about your names being on these papers."
They smiled at each other. Rae said, "We see the names, Sam. Now what?"
To Rae this was yet more confirmation that Sam was honest, and not just putting the same name on both slips of paper.
"Okay," Sam said, "see this cup? I'm going to fold the papers and drop them into this cup, shake it up, and whatever name I draw out will receive the assignment. Is this okay with the two of you?"
Max and Rae both nodded. Rae recognized the cup which said #1 Boss, as the one she had given Sam last Christmas along with a box of his favorite Godiva chocolates.
Rae liked the idea of a draw. It meant that in Sam's eyes they were both equally qualified. Max held her hand and she took a deep breath. She could feel herself blushing again.
Sam put his fingers into the cup, pulled out a piece of paper, opened it, read it and he handed it to Max. "Max, would you please read the name aloud. But before you do, let me tell you both again: I'm sure that you are both competent to write this story."
Rae waited anxiously. As much as she liked Max, she wanted this assignment more than anything else.
Max opened the slip of paper and looked at Rae. "Congratulations, Rae. The job is yours!"
Rae wanted to jump up and scream, but instead, tears came into her eyes. She knew they were not for herself, but for Max's disappointment. She stood up, thanked Sam, then reached out and hugged Max. She was not sure why she had done that.
1Sam gave Rae the names of four suspects in the 1968 murder. He said that as far as he knew all were still alive.
Rae frowned. "I'm puzzled. Am I investigating Ava Montez' murder, or writing about her life and death as a movie star?"
"I want you to combine the two," Sam said, a shrewd smile on his face. "The public will want to read the gruesome details, as well as Ava's life as an actress. And they'll also want to know who killed her. So it's up to you to solve the mystery!"
"You really want me to investigate a murder? To try and find out who did it?" Rae said. "I'm a reporter, not a detective." She thought for a moment. "Although I suppose in some ways they call for the same skills. Will the police give me access to their records?"
Sam nodded encouragingly. "Go to the police station around the corner, Rae, and ask to see Chief Edwards. Give him my card and he'll give you permission to look up the police records of the murder of Ava Montez. Chief Larry Edwards is my brother-in-law, and he already knows one of you will be coming over. I'll call him just as soon as you leave."
Rae was thinking: Brother-in-law? I know who the Chief is, but I had no idea he's related to Sam.
She looked at Sam, realizing she knew so little about his life outside of the office. She knew he was married and had three kids: two boys in college, and one daughter still at home, but that was it.
She thanked Sam, looked at Max, and said, "I may need you on this one."
Max smiled. "Call me any time."
On her way over to the station Rae glanced at the names Sam had given her.
1. Joseph P. Morgan
2. Martha Brown
3. Kim Blakely
4. Jake Austin
She wondered who they were, and what part they might have taken in the murder, if any. She also was wondering if one of them could possibly be the murderer.
At the police station the receptionist smiled, and said, "May I help you?"
In spite of feeling a little nervous, Rae returned the smile. "I hope so. I would like to see Chief Edwards. I'm Rae Collins, a reporter for the New York Reader."
She was asked to take a seat, but before she could sit down, she heard, "You can go right in. Down the hall, last door on the right."
Chief Edwards seemed very congenial. Over six feet tall, with a slim body, he had sparkling eyes and a great smile. Right away he put her at ease and a little off guard, and Rae took an immediate liking to him. But underneath all that charisma, she knew by the stories she had heard and read, he was one tough cookie.
He motioned for her to sit down, said some kind words about Sam, and then got right down to the business at hand.
"So you're the reporter Sam gave the assignment to. I know there were two of you he was thinking about. He told me you were both well qualified and he was having a hard time choosing between the two of you. He must have come up with a terrific solution. But don't tell me, he will want to surprise us all at dinner tonight. Here's the file number of the case you're looking for, but please just look up that file number only, and nothing else without permission from me. Do you agree to that?"
Rae said, "Yes," and thanked him for his trust.
The Chief said, "You come highly recommended by my brother-in-law and friend, Sam."
With that, he led Rae to the file room that was filled with reports dating back to the 1920s. He showed Rae where to find the relevant file. "You can sit over there at that desk. Please, when you are through, put everything back where you found it. I need to keep the place as clean as possible. I hate clutter."
The first thing Rae wanted to do was look up the name Ava Montez.
As she removed the plain manila folder from the file cabinet she immediately noticed that it read in bold red letters, UNSOLVED.
Before opening the folder, she had to blow away the dust that had accumulated over the years. The first page read, INFORMATION ON AVA MONTEZ AND THE FOUR SUSPECTS INVOLVED.
She saw at once that these were the same four names Sam had given her.
Ava Montez, once known as the most beautiful woman in the world. Born December 12 1931, died March 5 1968.
Cause of death, murder, through falling from a great height, pushed or thrown by person or persons unknown.
Made her first movie at the age of 18.
Took the movie industry by storm.
Six Academy Award nominations, three winners for best actress.
Case unsolved.
Then she looked up the four suspects Sam had given her, and read the files.
1.Joseph P. Morgan, Director. Directed Ava Montez in her first movie when he was 20 years old. Two Academy Awards for best Director, both starring Ava Montez. Born 1929.
2.Martha Brown, Housekeeper. Worked for Ava Montez from 1955 for thirtee
n years, until Miss Montez' death. Was 18 when she became the victim's housekeeper. Born 1937.
3.Kim Blakely, best friend. Also her Agent. Born 1928.
4.Jake M. Austin, Husband. Movie Producer and owner of the successful J.M.A. Motion Picture Studio. Married to Montez for fifteen years until her death. Marriage seemed to be good. Born 1933.
Rae looked around, and seeing no copy machine in the file room, probably a deliberate omission to prevent unauthorized copying, wrote down all the information she needed for now. She thought of Sam and silently thanked him for the leads. She reminded herself to thank him again in person.
She was ready now to pursue her assignment. She would hunt down these four names to begin with, for surely they would be able to talk about Ava's life, as well as her murder. Where should she begin? The only name that was vaguely familiar was the last name on the list: Jake M. Austin, the husband.
She was sure she had seen or heard that name somewhere recently. Perhaps Max could help her on this one. And maybe if she could find Mr. Austin, he might know where she could find the others.
It was a good lead. After all, she had to start somewhere.
She hurried back to the office and found Max. He looked up at her. "Hi, Rae, how can I help you?"
Rae laughed. "Is it that obvious?"
She told him of her find, and then picked his brain about Mr. Austin. Max also remembered seeing the name somewhere. Then it came to him.
He swung his chair around and on his computer he typed in, Recent Marriages. He gave Rae a smile as he read, "Jake Austin, seventy-seven, a famous producer of the forties, fifties and sixties, who was once married to Ava Montez, known as the most beautiful woman in the world, marries one-time starlet, Carol Larsen, forty-five, of Hollywood, California. They will reside in the Austin mansion in Beverly Hills, the home Austin shared with Ava Montez before her murder in 1968. For the next three months they will be staying at Austin's penthouse at the Golden Towers here in New York City."
Rae felt a rush of excitement. "Three months? By the date on this release, that was two and a half months ago. Let's hope he's still there. I have to get moving. And thanks again, Max, you're a life saver. I owe you one."
Max said, "It's okay, Rae, the story's all yours. Go and bring back a great one for Sam's new magazine, Stars of Yester-Years."
"I'm off," Rae shouted, as she hurried out of the office. Stopping and turning around in the doorway, she added, "I hope I won't disappoint Sam."
Max smiled and shook his head. "You won't. You're a great reporter."
Rae could feel butterflies in her stomach. She was both nervous and excited at the same time, not only for the story, but there was something the way Max looked at her. She felt this might be the cause for the butterflies. She could still feel that hug in Sam's office!
The first thing she did when she got home was call Jake Austin. That bit was easy -- his name was in the phone book at his Golden Towers residence. Apprehensively, she arranged a meeting with him for Monday late afternoon. She smiled to herself. She enjoyed Max's help and knew he would always be there for her, but some things she could do on her own!
The next thing she did was look up the other three names. They were not listed in the book.
CHAPTER 2
Jake Austin -- the Husband
On the way to the Austin penthouse in Golden Towers on Monday, Rae was thinking how simple it had been to make the appointment. Once she told Jake Austin that she was writing a story on the life of Ava Montez, he hadn't hesitated for a moment. All he had said was, "It's about time. How about late Monday afternoon?"
Instantly, Rae had answered back. "Great. I'll be there. And thanks very much, Mr. Austin."
Rather than go to the office on Monday morning, Rae arranged to check on a few things in the police files and then spend the rest of the time in the library, then back in her apartment researching Hollywood and its stars and the history of the movies on the Internet. It was much quieter working at home without constant interruptions.
Golden Towers was a place Rae had admired while growing up in the city. As a child she had even told her friends that it was where she was going to live when she was married!
The place was majestic-looking, and clearly only the rich lived there. As she grew into a teenager she often sat on the park bench across the narrow street and watched people going in and out. Although the street was narrow, it was always busy with pedestrians passing the Golden Towers, so the doorman had come to recognize many of them over time. Rae loved to watch him. He had been there for years and years. He always seemed kind and helpful to the residents, even though one or two seemed to be rude and unfriendly.
Rae, even now as an adult, still enjoyed going to the park from time to time, watching the various activities.
She could tell that the doorman really loved his work, smiling and tipping his hat. His name was Charles. He had first noticed her about ten years ago. Since then, he would wave to her, smile and tip his hat, and she always smiled and waved back.
Once or twice he even crossed the street to talk to her. But they were always short times, as he had to hurry back to his position at the door.
Today Charles greeted her with a big smile, tipped his hat and asked. "How can I help you? This is the first time you've come over to the Golden Towers."
Rae told him she an appointment with Jake Austin.
He looked at her with a quizzical expression on his face. Rae could tell he was curious about the meeting, but she knew he wouldn't ask.
She explained, "I'm a reporter for the New York Reader."
He looked surprised, but smiled and said, "I hope you find out all you need to know," as he held the door open for her.
Inside the lobby Rae hesitated, a little confused.
Charles pointed her to the desk in the lobby, and said, "Miss Littleton will take care of you." He smiled, winked at her and again tipped his hat.
Rae thanked him, and gave him her biggest smile.
The lobby was just as beautiful as she had imagined it would be. There were large vases of fresh flowers on the many marble tables. The floors were gray and white marble, and so shiny they looked as though they had just been polished. The furniture was exquisite, like a picture in the magazine House Beautiful. She wasn't disappointed at all, and the lobby took her breath away just as she knew it would. She smiled to herself at the thought of how she told her father many times as he drove past the Towers on the way to school, that this was the place where she was going to live!
He would tell her, "Go to college, become a doctor, or marry a very wealthy husband, and you can."
She did go to college, but to study journalism. She almost married a doctor, who told her they would live right here. Her dream of living at the Golden Towers could come true. But after being engaged for a year it just didn't work out. Her faith and his beliefs were too different, and she broke off the engagement. Besides, other things in life were more important than living in a dream world.
Miss Littleton looked up as Rae approached the desk. "Good morning, how may help you?"
"I'm Rae Collins, a reporter for the New York Reader, and I have an appointment with Mr. Jake Austin."
Miss Littleton typed something into her computer, then picked up her telephone. "Miss Collins from the New York Reader is here for her appointment with you, Mr. Austin."
She hung up the telephone and smiled at Rae. "Have a seat over there." She pointed to a group of chairs. "Mr. Austin will be right down."
Rae felt disappointment. She was hoping their meeting would be in the penthouse, and was dying to see what one looked like and what she might have missed by breaking off the engagement.
She sat patiently, facing the elevator doors. In a few minutes the doors opened. She had no idea what Jake Austin looked like. All she knew was he was seventy-seven years old.
A very distinguished-looking man stepped out of the elevator. He looked her way, waved and smiled. "I'm Jake Austin. You must be the rep
orter from the paper. Rae Collins, right?"
Rae was thinking how handsome he was. Even though he was gray, with a thin gray moustache, he looked at least ten years younger than his age. He had a winning smile and seemed more like a movie star of the forties, rather than a producer and the owner of, at that time, the largest motion picture movie studio in Hollywood.
He stretched out his hand. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting, but I needed to come down. No one can use the elevators unless they have a key. And that key only gets you into your own penthouse. The elevator doesn't stop until it gets to your living quarters. There are twelve floors, twelve elevators and twelve penthouses."
So she was going up after all. Rae could hardly wait to get to see how the rich lived.
She hadn't known that each floor was a penthouse. She had heard that to buy here you had to agree to live here, and apartments rarely ever came on the market. There were no rentals. Only owners occupied! And if the owner had to be gone for any length of time, like Mr. Austin going back to Hollywood, it was securely locked up and no one was allowed in unless they had special permission from the owner and had the correct key to the elevator.
They got into the elevator where a sign read, TWELFTH FLOOR RESIDENCE ONLY. Rae switched off her cell phone. There would be no interruptions during this interview.
INTERVIEW
THE HUSBAND
CHAPTER 3
Jake Austin
The elevator doors opened. Rae paused before stepping out. So this was the home of Jake Austin.
The entranceway had marble flooring, but unlike the gray and white marble in the lobby, these floors were dark brown, tan and white. The entrance was a semi-circle with three steps going down into the living area. The hardwood flooring was the exact same brown as the marble in the entranceway.
Rae noticed three big tan sofas with dark brown throw pillows, and two matching chairs with ottomans. The coffee table and the two end tables in between the sofas were white marble, as was the one between the two matching chairs that were facing each other.
Rae knew she had never seen anything more beautiful. But yet in spite of all the beauty, the room looked and had the feeling of being lived in, and comfortably. She was amazed by the splendor and comfort it radiated.
Ava Montez, Her Life and Death Page 2
