[Celebrity Murder Case 04] - The Talking Pictures Murder Case

by George Baxt

  ‘Stop that!” raged Dakota. “We ain't shantytown niggers, damn it, and we ain't never gonna imitate them Woman, we come a long way in this world.”

  “Oh, sure we have,” she said sarcastically, “me the queen of the kitchen and you kowtowing to Mr Sagging Muscles upstairs!” She mopped her perspiring brow with a kitchen towel. “Three years ago we were getting top money in pictures for our kind and then what happens? Well? I’m asking you? Then what happened?'1

  “Don't remind me. All of a sudden, not even an offer to play a bootblack Ah, the hell with it “

  'The hell with what?” The question came from the Darlings' British butler, Erskine Simpson-Thwaite, as he entered from the servants' quarters wearing his elegant uniform (“How about us!” Marie Darling loved to crow “We got the only hyphenated butler in Hollywood!”)

  “The hell with trying to get back into pictures.”

  Erskine said with a haughty sniff, “Only simpletons and retardates want to be in flickers. Don't you realize how well off we are? We're paid top dollar every two weeks. Our living quarters are the best in the community. We eat well, we dress well, and the sons of bitches occasionally treat us with a soupçon of civility What more could you ask?”

  “A good part in the next Janet Gaynor talker,” said Hettie wistfully.

  “Janet Gaynor? She has a voice like an unoiled hinge. And that thing that plays opposite her, um … what's his name again? Oh yes,. Charles Farrell. He looks like a sufferer of chronic constipation. They won’t last. Nothing lasts in films. I know.” His voice and his face darkened “Carl Laemmle brought me from England twenty years ago when I was a mere lad, a youth enveloped in a cloud of innocence.” He struck a pose while Dakota and Hettie exchanged looks of boredom. They'd seen the performance too often 'They were offering me the world I had starred in the West End in my first and only production I trod the boards with Ellen Terry and Sir Herbert Tree. Like the fool I was, blinded by the stardust they flung in my eyes, I came to this godforsaken cultural desert to appear in two-reelers. Two-reelers. I made dozens of them. I appeared with Lon Chaney, and Harry Carey, Betty Blythe and Priscilla Dean . and then ten years later, at thirty-one years of age, I'm told I'm too old to play college boys. Look at me. Look at my face. Do I look a day over twenty?”

  “Honeybunch,” said Hettie through a hysterical cackle, “you don't look a day over fifty, and you know it You better stop sniffing all that happy powder you keep snitching out of Mr Jack's private stock, or you’re going to grow old out there in that cold, cruel world of the unwanted.”

  Erskine favored her with a look intended to wither, but Hettie was bending over at one of the six stoves examining another batch of cookies. Dakota gave her a loving whack on the behind and Erskine poured himself a cup of coffee while muttering under his breath the futility of dealing with inferiors.

  In the library, Marie was on the phone excoriating Detective Jim Mallory “If your Mr Villon would like to question myself and the members of my family, Mr. Gallery—”

  “Mallory.”

  “Whatever the hell it is, he can get himself behind the wheel of a car and drive himself out here Around here we don't go to the mountain, Mr Ignoramus—”

  “Mallory.”

  “Don't interrupt! The mountain comes to us!”

  She slammed the phone down

  “Mama, my nerves?” cried Annamary, who was seated at a desk flipping the pages of a magazine.

  'The nerve of those sons of bitches expecting us to come downtown to answer some questions.”

  Willis Loring had been pouring himself a sherry, but the hand holding the decanter froze. “Was that the police?”

  “That was indeed the police!”

  Annamary lost interest in the magazine as her brother came strolling through the French windows, the doors of which were ajar in hopes of luring a breeze. 'Police? Police? Did I hear you say police? If that's a sherry you're pouring, Willis, one for me too, please.”

  Annamary spoke. “What do they want?”

  ‘They want to ask us questions about your brother's late wife and father-in-law,” boomed Marie.

  “What kind of questions, Mama?” Annamary looked twelve years old

  “You'll know when they get here and ask them.”

  “They're coming here?”

  “Well, we sure as hell ain't going there. Now listen, you three, we got more important things to talk about. I had it out with Alex Roland …”

  “I saw you storming across the lot, Mom,” said Jack with admiration.”

  Marie ignored him. “I warned him he fulfills every term of your contracts or he pays up in full and through the nose.”

  “He's having money problems, Mama,” said Jack matter-of-factly as Willis brought him his glass of sherry.

  Marie was interested. “You know that for sure or is it some piece of gossip you picked up?”

  “What I picked up was Alex's new service station, Alicia Leddy and a friend of hers, Rita Gerber. We lunched at the commissary.”

  “I thought I told you to stay away from the studio!”

  “Mama, I'm bored up to here.” He indicated his neck. “Alex is behind schedule on at least half a dozen pictures, three of them in that new color process, and you've heard how expensive that is.”

  “The son of a bitch, it serves him right!” She paced slowly to the French windows “If it wasn't for the commitments and the money he owes us, I'd sing in high C to see Alex Roland going broke “

  Willis snorted “Fat chance! He's been on the edge of disaster lots of times, but he never topples over.”

  Jack said, “Maybe that's because there was nobody behind him to give him a little bit of a push.”

  Mama Marie commanded center stage. “I gave him an ultimatum. Tomorrow afternoon he comes up with a talker for each of you or he settles with me financially and we move over to Joe Schenck at United Artists.”

  “Joe doesn't want me, Mama,” said Jack plaintively “Where do I move to?”

  “Don't you worry, baby You’re gonna make a comeback, a real big comeback. We'll be on top of the world for as long as we want to be.”

  In Herbert Villon's office, Jim Mallory looked sheepish as Hazel Dickson laughed snidely “You have to hand it to Marie Darling, and you might as well because she'll take it anyway. What an old battle-ax. Well, Herbert? Do you send the paddy wagon for them or do you swallow your professional pride and go storm the citadel?”

  “Your prose ripens as fast as you do “

  “Don't be mean, Herbert. I think it's really funny. That woman's an original. She makes the rest of those tough Hollywood mamas look like marmalade “

  Jim Mallory finally spoke up 'What do we do, chief?”

  Herbert arose and crossed to a mirror and spoke while examining his reflection “I've always wanted a look at Annawill. There's no time like the present Have a car sent around.”

  “Can I come too?” asked Hazel coyly.

  Villon rewarded her request with an obscene gesture.

  Helen Roland, Alexander Roland's wife, sat in Gloria Swanson's magnificent living room, waiting for the fabulous actress to finish pouring their cups of tea. Gloria looked at her guest and displayed her two perfect rows of ivories as she asked, “How do you take it? Milk? Lemon? Brandy?”

  “Lemon would be fine,” said Helen, her voice a pleasant contralto. What do you think, Gloria?”

  “About what?”

  “About my trying for a comeback “

  “Why not? You have a lovely voice. Christ knows you're prettier than ever. Your figure's great, and why the hell did you leave pictures in the first place?”

  “Alex wanted me to. It didn't matter. I wasn't missed.”

  “Ah now, come on, you still get fan mail, don’t you?”

  “Yes, some of my old faithfuls still keep in touch.”

  “Have you discussed this with Alex?”

  “He doesn't care what I do. He's got a new girl friend.”

  “Oh,
thank God you know about this one “ Swanson laughed “You know how awful I am about secrets!”

  “I’m glad for anyone that keeps him out of my bedroom “ She laughed. “Poor silly bastard. Struts about like he was a young rooster.”

  Swanson put her cup and saucer down and chose a cigarette from a platinum case “Why’d you marry him in the first place? You were never in love with him.”

  Helen watched Swanson lighting up. Even that ordinary gesture had star quality “Well, it was at the end of my romance with Jack Darling. I realized Jack never had any intention of marrying me, and here was Jack's boss showering me with unwanted attention. I married Alex to get back at Jack.” She sighed “You know … the best-laid plans. Glory, would Joe Schenck consider my doing a film for UA?”

  Gloria sent a smoke ring to its doom in space. “Do you have anything in mind you'd like to do?”

  “Yes. I’d like to do the life of Dolly Lovelace.”

  “Ye gods, are you mad?”

  Helen folded her arms. “It's a hell of a story. And there's plenty I know that could add some more spice to it.”

  “Isn't it spicy enough as it is? I mean my God, sweetie, now that her father's been murdered, and I suppose you've heard the rumor all over town that he was really a Negro.”

  “I've heard everything there is to know I've gotten it from Lolly Parsons and God knows what Bertha Graze is spreading with her trowel. I want to play Dolly Lovelace. I'm the right age, I'm years younger than Alex.”

  Gloria said pragmatically, “Alex is fine for a first husband. You should be looking around for number two. Take me. Joe Kennedy and I can't go on forever. He's got political ambitions and there's enough gossip about us as it is. He'll never divorce Rose to marry me because he's too damn Catholic. And then there's all those kids. So I’ve got my eyes peeled for husband number four.”

  “Glory, got any theories as to why the Lovelaces were murdered?”

  “Sure, doesn't everybody? Number one theory is the Negro angle. A black passing for white on the silver screen? Wow, what a story that would have been had it broken while Dolly was still alive. They were killed to shut them up. Dolly was a wreck when Jack told her he was dumping her. She was desperate. She was all over town making all kinds of threats about Jack and his mother and drippy Annamary. I mean, isn't she the cat's pajamas! And I'm sure you've heard Dolly was supposedly having it off with Willis Loring?”

  “She wasn't!”

  “She was .” Swanson giggled. “Mama Marie smuggled herself into a screening of my talker I'm told she sat dumbfounded in her chair at the standing ovation it got at the end.” Swanson broke out into the film's theme song, “Love (Your Magic Spell Is Everywhere).” Then she stopped in midsong and said, “I've done it, Helen. In The Trespasser I’ve licked the talkers They won't be calling me Gloria Swansong like that bitch Hedda Hopper predicted. “

  “Alex calls her 'Garbage Mouth '“

  “The hell with her. Let's see what we can do to get Joe Schenck lathered up about you making a comeback. You're sure Alex wouldn’t set you up in one himself?”

  “He would but I won't. Besides, he's up to his ears in money troubles “

  “Oh, not again.”

  “He's overloaded and underbudgeted. He’s been signing up talking talent without even testing them. He's loaded the studio with an army of clinkers. He needs some money makers fast “

  “If he goes under, I won't shed any tears You know how I loathe him.”

  “You don't really.”

  “Oh, yes I do. Now more than ever. I loathed them all. Look at what they're doing to so many of our friends. They're destroying careers and lives without so much as a how-do-you-do. Aileen Pringle was over last night and you know what a smart cookie Pringie is. Even she’s given up. She's taking supports, anything she can get.”

  “I didn’t know she was broke “

  “She's not. But she’s hurting in here “ Swanson indicated her heart. “She’s not being asked to parties anymore. Betty Compson high hatted her at the club on Sunday. She no longer gets preferential treatment at her favorite restaurant. And she speaks beautifully.“

  “She always did. I don't understand what’s going on.”

  “The boys are ganging up to rid themselves of the high-priced ones. They're getting these nobodies from Broadway and London for a fraction of silent stars' salaries. Look what the Warners are doing to Monte Blue and Jack Mulhall. Putting them into quickies to wind up their contracts. Trying to humiliate them into quitting. They've got Blanche Sweet in a movie and she's not even getting any billing!1'

  “Now, that is the lowest!”

  “Yet, on the other hand, look at Bessie Love Couldn't get a job for years and all of a sudden she can play a ukelele and sing, if you can call it singing, and she's even dancing. And she's a smash talker hit in The Broadway Melody.”

  “But how long will it last?”

  “How should I know? I'm a star, not a philosopher.” She shoved the tea tray aside “How's for a martini! The sun's going down.”

  Erskine Simpson-Thwaite ushered Herbert Villon and Jim Mallory into Annawill's imposing reception room. “Who shall I say is calling?”

  “Chief Inspector Herbert Villon and Detective James Mallory,” said Villon.

  “May I take your hats?” asked the butler haughtily

  “Will we get them back?” asked Villon.

  Erskine knew when he was beaten and left them cooling their heels.”

  Mallory examined the room while whistling between his teeth “And this is only the reception room “

  In the main parlor, Marie draped herself on a sofa while Jack sat at the piano running his fingers lightly over the keys. Willis and Annamary shared a love seat. They had heard the door chimes and knew it was the police. The butler had been instructed to wait a few beats before conducting the policemen into the main parlor.

  In the kitchen, Hettie said to Dakota, “Must be the cops “

  “They'll get nothing out of Mama.”

  “They'll get plenty out of Mama. But nothing they can use. You know Mama. She'll tie them up in knots Stay out of them pots, Dakota. Let the dinner stew in peace. The police won't.”

  Mama Marie's gracious smile was patterned on that of Queen Mary of England as Villon introduced himself and Mallory. They accepted the seats and refused the drinks they were offered.

  Willis Loring asked, “Would you prefer to third-degree us individually?”

  “This isn't a third degree, Mr Loring. We're just looking for some assistance in what we suspect to be two murders. Mr. Darling.”

  “Yes?” Jack spun about on the piano stool and seemed on the verge of asking, “Anyone for tennis?”

  “You were married briefly to Dolly Lovelace “

  “That's right “ He laced his fingers together “Soon after our marriage we found we were incompatible “

  “Yet that was quite an emotional display with her corpse at her funeral.”

  “Just because we didn't get along didn't mean I stopped loving her. I love her now. I always will But we couldn't live together.”

  “I have information that suggests you left her because you found out she had black blood “

  “That's a lie!” shouted Mama Marie, no longer Queen Mary of England

  “Mama, please,” pleaded Annamary while clutching the strand of pearls around her neck like a lifeline.

  Villon continued, ignoring Marie's outburst “That kind of news could lead to scandal and possibly ruin your career Both your careers, I suppose, were at stake.”

  “I would never have abandoned Dolly because of a scurrilous lie “ Jack looked noble and brave and gallant as his brother-in- law suppressed the urge to blow a raspberry.

  Villon said, “Our theory is that Dolly and her father were murdered to keep them quiet.”

  “How dare you!” Mama Marie was on her feet and waving a fist at Villon.

  “How dare I what?” asked Villon with a quick look at Jim Mallory. T
he detective was enjoying the scene immensely

  “How dare you insinuate we had Dolly and her father murdered!”

  “I didn't insinuate anything of the kind.”

  “Oh yes you did! I'm on to your filthy cop tricks!”

  “You are? Which filthy cop tricks?”

  Mama's hands were on her ample hips “Have you got a search warrant?”

  “What do I need a search warrant for? We're only here looking for information What's all the fuss about?”

  “Mama, sit down!” Annamary startled even herself with her awesome tone of voice. Marie sat.

  “You refused to come to headquarters and, rather than issue warrants and embarrass you—that action would certainly have made headlines—we very nicely came here to you.”

  “You came here to make capital of three great stars of the silver screen! You cops are always out looking for headlines!”

  Jack said, “For crying out loud, Mama, will you let them ask their questions so we can get it over with?” He had crossed to the bar and was pouring himself a whisky. To Villon he said, “If there was Negro blood in Dolly, she never told me, and that's the truth. When we married I was having problems, and I don't have to tell you what they are. Drink, dope, women, a fading career. Dolly was a fool to have married me. She was on a skyrocket to stardom. The truth is, I married her to try to bum a free ride back to the top.”

  “You shut up!” yelled Marie To Villon she said, “Don't you believe any of that hogwash.”

  “It's the truth?” shouted Jack.

  In the kitchen, Erskine, Hettie, and Dakota, grouped around an open window, could hear most of what was going on between the family and the police Hettie commented, “If she had black blood in her then she was too damned good for that bum!”

  Jack downed the whisky in one gulp and poured another for himself. Annamary leaned forward in her seat and addressed Villon. “Mr. Villon, we are not murderers We are actors. I loved Dolly as though she was my own sister and I was very sad when she and Jack split up.” She couldn't resist adding, “I know my husband adored her too “