‘Rightly said,’ agreed Dolly. ‘Although she has got beautiful hair, hasn’t she? What a shame you went and had yours dyed back to brown. It looked quite fancy…’
Dolly winked at Posie, who almost managed a laugh. ‘Now, are they anchovy paste sandwiches over there? I’ll grab us some.’
Dolly wandered off, hungry. Posie stood at the window again. Alaric had been forever getting her a drink and she couldn’t be bothered to chase him, or to look for him at the crowded little bar in the middle of the room. He had been very quiet these last two weeks, as had everybody. Needless to say, his big birthday party had been cancelled.
‘I say, old girl. Bearing up, are we?’ Turning, she saw Rufus, Lord Cardigeon, at her side. But today she barely acknowledged him and stared out of the window again angrily.
Rufus was drinking tea, and looking immaculate in a black suit and a Burberry summer cape. He was hatless and in the bright light Posie suddenly saw how he was losing his hair. He was broader than he used to be, too. Sure as bread is bread he’ll be turning into his father soon, Posie thought, without much amusement.
‘How’s your father?’ she said curtly, without looking around.
‘Oh, so-so. They say he won’t make it until Christmas. I’d be surprised if he’s still with us for Michaelmas, though. He’ll be gone by the end of October.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Me too, surprisingly. I say, is everything quite okay?’
Posie turned at last. She checked Dolly was still in the distance, picking sandwiches from a serving tray with obvious enjoyment.
And then she lost her temper.
‘I thought we were friends, Rufus.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Rufus scratched his head. ‘We are friends.’
‘Not any more,’ Posie hissed. ‘Tell me, is Dolly still in some sort of imaginary danger?’
Rufus stared. ‘I don’t know what you mean. I told you Dolly was in danger and she was. Still is. We have to be very careful. Nothing imaginary about that!’
‘What’s the danger? What? Tell me exactly.’
‘I can’t.’ Rufus drew himself up to his full height. ‘It’s confidential.’
Posie remembered Rufus’s face from a couple of weeks before, outside in Grape Street. She had thought he looked shifty then, or angry, or nervous. Now she realised he had looked embarrassed. Guilty.
Posie had thought then that something odd was going on.
‘I thought all of this was strange from the start, this whole kidnapping plot: those fat nannies you employed, the requests to never let Dolly leave my side. You know I almost involved the police? But I gave you the benefit of the doubt, assuming you were acting in Dolly’s best interests.’
‘I was! I am!’
‘No you’re not! You’re keeping her a virtual prisoner in the house, scared that she’s going to run away from you. You’ve sent away the only person she had around whom she enjoyed to be with, who made the whole child-bearing and child-raising thing bearable, which, by the way, she hates. You’re so scared of losing her and your unborn prince that you’ve brought in these awful women, and you even had me get in on the act! Getting me to keep Dolly “safe” at my side all the time, so she wouldn’t leave. It stinks! You make me sick!’
‘Come on, now,’ muttered Rufus, but Posie could see that she was right: he was flushing a bright and unattractive shade of red.
‘I’ll tell you what to do, if you want to keep her,’ hissed Posie, seeing Dolly begin to weave her way back through the room, bearing three plates like prizes. ‘Find this French girl, Violette. Pay for her and for Dolly to spend one week in Paris, no expense spared. Pay for everything. Let her go.’
‘Are you joking? Have you lost your mind? She won’t come back to me!’
Posie nodded, staring at her friend. ‘She will. She loves you, and your girls, even if she is fed up with the lot of you. You’ve got to let her have her own time, space, experiences. Otherwise, I promise you, she will leave you. And then she won’t come back. She’ll find a way. This can’t go on, Rufus. It’s terrible!’
Rufus had now gone very pale, and Dolly was upon them. She was already eating.
‘Sorry, I’m starvin’. Anyone like one?’
Both Posie and Rufus shook their heads, bound together in secrecy and silence by their horrible conversation which would never be repeated.
‘I say, look who Alaric’s talkin’ to!’
And Posie saw where Dolly was indicating. Further down at the end of the room Silvia Hanro had stripped out of her black furs and she was no longer alone at her table. She was whispering something to Alaric. Their heads were very close, and they seemed to be sharing a cigarette. Alaric was smiling.
It was the smile from the photograph.
Alaric seemed to sense Posie’s stare, and he looked up at her quickly, waving easily.
Posie waved back. But there was a light in his green eyes which Posie had never seen there before, and which she didn’t like. Not one little tiny bit.
The ominous feeling was back: that horrible dream sprung to mind again, wretchedly.
‘Look, darling, there’s something I need to tell you.’
Posie remembered her words to Dolly of not five minutes before when she had been talking about Silvia:
She has nothing I want. Nothing at all.
Posie swallowed, hoping they still rang true.
****
Thanks for joining Posie Parker and her friends.
Enjoyed Murder of a Movie Star (A Posie Parker Mystery #5)? Here’s what you can do next.
If you loved this book and have a tiny moment to spare I would really appreciate a short review on the page where you bought the book. Your help in spreading the word about the series is invaluable and really appreciated, and reviews make a big difference to helping new readers find the series.
Posie’s other cases are available in e-book and paperback formats from Amazon, as well as in selected bookstores.
You can find all of the other books, available for purchase, listed here in chronological order:
http://www.amazon.com/L.B.-Hathaway/e/B00LDXGKE8
and
http://www.amazon.co.uk/L.B.-Hathaway/e/B00LDXGKE8
You can sign up to be notified of new releases, pre-release specials, free short stories and the chance to win Amazon gift-vouchers here:
http://www.lbhathaway.com/contact/newsletter/
Historical Note
All of the characters in this book are fictional, unless specifically mentioned below. Timings, general political events, weather conditions and places (and descriptions of places) are all historically accurate to the best of my knowledge, save for the exceptions listed below.
For those interested in British silent films at this time, see the fuller note at the end of this book, but otherwise please note that I have simply tried to give the reader a flavour of the essence of British cinema in 1923 and of how I understand Worton Hall Studios might have been at the time (also see note 9, below, in bold).
However much research is undertaken, there are bound to be omissions or contradictions which creep in.
I am also aware that the term ‘movie’ and ‘movie star’ were slang terms in the early 1920s, and both were used interchangeably in Great Britain with the words ‘film’, ‘film star’ and ‘moving pictures’ (or more usually, ‘the pictures’), as opposed to in America, where the term ‘movies’ and ‘movie star’ by this time were the more usual references.
As ever, both Posie’s work address (Grape Street, Bloomsbury, WC1) and her home address round the corner (Museum Chambers, WC1) in London are both very real, although you might have to do a bit of imagining to find her there.
1. July 1923 was a scorching month in London, punctuated by huge storms; one of the hottest summers ever. The thunderstorm of the evening of 9th July 1923 was staggering in its force and is recorded even now as being a storm of rare intensity. By the end of the month, however, when this story
is set, thunderstorms were on the wane.
2. The Zeppelin raid Dolly refers to in Chapter One did take place, on 8th September 1915. A bomb exploded just in front of the Dolphin pub in Bloomsbury, and then caught fire. Three men died in the bombing and many were injured. A clock still stands inside the Dolphin pub today, whose hands stopped forever at the time of the blast (10.40 pm).
3. The real-life film Dolly refers to, Love, Life and Laughter (starring the most famous British movie star of the day, Betty Balfour), was indeed the toast of British cinema in June 1923. It was produced by George Pearson, mainly at the Islington Studios, a rival to Worton Hall. Believed lost, a copy of the film was found in 2014 in a Dutch film archive and is now retained by the British Film Industry (http://www.bfi.org.uk).
4. The ice cream shop I have described in Chapter One, Caspari’s, in Covent Garden, is fictional.
5. Nathan’s Costumiers (properly entitled ‘Berman’s and Nathan’s’ but known by many in the trade simply as ‘Nathan’s’) as first appear in Chapter Three were very real – the premium supplier of theatrical costumes in the trade for both stage and film work – but I have no idea what colour their vans were in real life. The blue-and-gold livery of the van is a flight of fancy of my own.
6. Sunstar Films as referred to throughout this story is my own invention, as is the film I describe being made at the Worton Hall Studios (Henry the King) during this time.
7. The character of Producer/Director Brian Langley is also fictional, although the reference made by Silvia Hanro (in Chapter Five) to film stars basically being ‘owned’ by their studios and being creatures of their Producers is taken from the (real-life) character of Producer Cecil Hepworth (1874–1953), who believed exactly this of his film stars in this period.
8. The ‘marriage bar’ I have included (meaning married women were automatically excluded from jobs in some professions in England, most notably the civil service) was already coming into place at the time of this novel but did not affect the film industry. This is a piece of convenient artistic licence I have taken.
9. A Brief Note on Worton Hall Studios and G.B. (‘Bertie’) Samuelson.
Worton Hall Studios were based at Worton Hall in Isleworth, one hour from London. This lovely white-painted house (a former stately home) with its nine-acre estate was bought in 1914 by the maverick real-life (and larger than life) Film Producer George ‘Bertie’ Samuelson (who appears in this story as himself). It was retained by him until 1928.
He famously created a cutting-edge film studio, mainly in the gardens, but also by utilising the whole house for dressing rooms, canteens, wardrobe departments and such like. Many important and ground-breaking silent films were made at Worton Hall, especially in the period of the First World War. The studios were active right up until the 1950s.
The landscape of the place as described (with its background of farm and greenhouses) is correct, as are the descriptions of the internal rooms of the old house, including the location of the bedrooms for the actors and actresses to stay in, which were all situated on the top two floors of the house. However, I am uncertain of the exact layout with regard to the location of the ballroom, canteen, cutting rooms, viewing rooms and Mr Samuelson’s office. Please be aware that the locations given and descriptions of such rooms are due in good part to my own imagination.
10. As mentioned by Silvia Hanro in Chapters Three and Six, Leichner stage make-up was a necessity on film sets during this time, and had to be applied all over the face and body to be effective. By 1923 (with the advances in more sophisticated set lighting) the make-up was an orange, or a skin-coloured tone (Leichner no 1). This is markedly in contrast with the early days of silent films when it was necessary for actors to use a dark red make-up (Leichner no 5) all over their faces and bodies so they would appear white under the blueish glare of the lights used (mercury vapour lamps, and then later Klieg lights).
11. The ‘Klieg eye’ effect caused by such early lamps (as referred to by Tom Moran in Chapter Seven) was, unfortunately, very real. For more on this see Matthew Sweet’s Shepperton Babylon: The Lost Worlds of British Cinema where he quotes from Joan Morgan’s novel, Camera! (1940) at page 19.
12. Silvia Hanro refers to ‘extras’ (a body or cast of actors making up crowd scenes) in Chapter Four. They are then referred to occasionally in the rest of the story in the same way. However, in 1923 ‘extras’ were actually referred to as ‘supers’. I have used the current term rather than the historically accurate one to make things easier for the modern reader. Please note that the arrangement with the extras hanging around all day at Worton Hall is an invention of my own, although they did have to queue up at the end of the day for their wages to be paid out in petty cash.
13. The Royal Oak pub, where some of the extras eat their lunch in this story is real. The pub is still there, on the Worton Road at Isleworth. It was used by film extras and film labourers for lunch and snacks, and sometimes even by the film stars themselves, despite the in-house canteen at Worton Hall.
14. The hugely talented actress Meggie Albanesi (1899–1923) as referred to throughout this novel was very real, her life cut tragically short in December 1923 when she died aged twenty-four. She was the toast of the London stage and appeared in six silent movies, all of which are now lost. She is commemorated by a small stone plaque in the Foyer at St Martin’s Theatre, London. The play The Lilies of the Field which is described in this book was indeed the hit show of summer 1923, playing to packed-out audiences at the Ambassadors Theatre throughout the continuing heatwave, including to the newly-married Duke and Duchess of York. She also frequented Ciro’s, the café mentioned in this novel, night after night, apparently on the look-out for possible suitors.
Please note that as far as I am aware Meggie Albanesi did not have a stalker in her lifetime, and that Hector Mallow is an invention of my own. She was, however, the object of much adulation and adoration, both during and after her own lifetime, with the Producer Basil Dean obsessively (and rather creepily) scouring upcoming talent for a ‘new’ Meggie Albanesi lookalike after her death. This hunt for a new Meggie Albanesi was well known in theatre circles, and even Ivor Novello had his eyes peeled for just such a replacement. For those interested in reading more, see Meggie Albanesi: A Life in the Theatre by Frances Gray (Society for Theatre Research, London, 2010).
15. The Foundling Hospital in Bloomsbury Fields (as referred to in Chapter Nine and again in Chapters Twelve and Eighteen) existed and stood in central London from the eighteenth century until 1926, when poor air and a massive build-up of housing all around it made a move out to the Surrey countryside necessary.
16. At Chapter Nine we learn about Pamela Hanro’s past as a suffragette. The arson attack described really did take place in February 1913, when a string of arson attacks were instigated by suffragettes across London, including at various recreational buildings at the public park of Kew Gardens. The arson attack on the Tea House/Pavillion at Kew was ultimately never directly attributed to the suffragettes, through lack of proof.
17. The description of Bute Street in South Kensington in Chapter Twelve (where Pamela Hanro lives) is accurate, albeit that the shop names are different (excepting the Zetland Arms). Now, as then, it was a small and useful commercial thoroughfare.
18. At Chapter Thirteen there is a reference to the real-life Cecil Court (next to Leicester Square in London) being called ‘Flicker Alley’ by those who frequented it, as it was so notoriously connected to those in the film industry. This was indeed the case in the 1920s, and I owe the historical reference to Matthew Sweet’s Shepperton Babylon: The Lost Worlds of British Cinema.
19. At Chapter Thirteen Pamela Hanro plays ‘The Teddy Bears’ Picnic’ on the gramophone. Please note that while the song could have been played on a gramophone at this point (it was composed and recorded by John Walter Bratton in New York in 1907) the lyrics as we know them were not ‘added’ until 1932.
20. While the marriage of the Duke of York and Lad
y Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon in April 1923 was indeed the society wedding of the year, and featured heavily in the press at the time (especially the wedding dress which was absolutely cutting-edge for its time, and served as a model which was much copied, up and down the land) the actual magazine cover I have described in Chapter Fourteen in The Lady is fictional.
21. The cocktail mentioned at Chapter Seventeen, the ‘Bee’s Knees,’ is correct as far as its alcoholic content goes, but it was much more fashionable in America at this time, rather than in England.
22. The police medal awarded to Inspector Lovelace at Chapter Seventeen, ‘the Blue Plume’, is an invention of my own.
23. At Chapter Eighteen the Billie Carleton case of 1918 is mentioned and this is historically accurate; it was the media sensation of the time, highlighting the prevalence of (particularly) cocaine as the drug of choice for many actors and film stars and celebrities. In the same chapter the reference to the sensational film Cocaine (directed by Graham Cutts) which was released in Britain to both acclaim and horror in 1922, is also accurate. I owe both of these references to Matthew Sweet’s Shepperton Babylon: The Lost Worlds of British Cinema.
24. The Middlesex Hospital on Mortimer Street as referred to at Chapters Nineteen and Twenty was indeed real: a teaching hospital from 1745, it closed in 2005.
25. Please note that the London telephone numbers and exchange numbers given here are completely fictional.
****
A Short Note on British Silent Movies and Movie Stars in 1923*
This is a murky world which you enter at your own peril, a precarious make-believe world stuffed full of chancers, predators, pretty girls (and boys). All topped off with a good heavy sprinkling of drugs, sex and death.
Murder of a Movie Star Page 36
