by George Baxt
Comedian Harry Langdon came in, saw Jack Darling, and, grateful for the sight of a familiar face, joined him at the bar. Shyly, he touched Jack's arm. Jack recognized him and smiled, “How goes it, Harry?”
Harry wrinkled his nose, which made his obscene baby face even more repulsive. “Well, I still have my house, but not for long. First National bounced me. My girl friend left me for a new producer named Emmanuel Katz and now she doesn't even talk to me.”
“Katz got her tongue?”
“My agent doesn't take my calls. When I walk down the street in Beverly Hills, little boys throw rocks at me and dogs give chase and nip at my ankles, but other than that I’m in the best of health and determined to make a comeback Mike, can I have a sloe gin fizz or is my presence an embarrassment?”
Bertha Graze was entertaining two of Louis B. Mayer's biggest male stars, William Haines and Ramon Novarro. Haines had been a silent star for over five years, as had been Novarro. The studio was capitalizing on his true nature as a brash wisecracker in his first talkers while Novarro, due to his Mexican accent, was set for a series of Latin musical adventures. His beautiful singing tenor worked to his advantage and his first talkers. Devil May Care and In Old Seville, would bring him renewed popularity. Unlike him, Haines's brash-young-man performances would soon prove obnoxious and tiring and, in time, Mayer would find an excuse to slice them from the studio roster. All this Bertha predicted with the assurance of a cat cornering a mouse.
“You know, boys,” Bertha told them as she stared into the crystal ball, “you’re not Mayers favorites.”
Novarro bristled. “He never like me since he found out I was Rex Ingram's protege.” Ingram had been an MGM director, married to actress Alice Terry, who condoned his occasional flings in the hay with young actors. Ingram particularly liked the handsome and muscular young Novarro and gave him several important roles, which led to his being selected as actor George Walsh's replacement in the title role of Ben-Hur four years earlier.
“Protege! Ha!” roared Haines. “You can sure speak plainer English than that.”
Bertha looked up from the crystal ball, “You two better stop visiting that male brothel up in the hills. Mayer has some private dicks around taking photos of everybody going in and out. Think of those morals clauses in your contracts.”
Haines paled, then found his usual bravado. “Ah, Mayer wouldn’t dare drop me. The Thalbergs are two of my best friends and it’s Irving who really runs the studio, not Louis.”
Bertha said smugly, “A word to the wise should be sufficient.” Then she leaned back while reaching into a plate of nauseating- looking goodies. 'Now, if I were you two, I'd play it safe for a while It just so happens I know a couple of young boys who are friendly and agreeable and for a reasonable price”—she paused to pop a date confection into her mouth—”will offer you their services. They're fresh in from the sticks and dying to meet movie stars.”
“Bertha, you rascal,” simpered Haines. “How young?”
“Very They're prime cuts. I can send them around to your place in about an hour or so. What do you say?”
“Send them both to Bill's. Not my place. I live with my mother. She doesn’t understand these things. She’s very religious.”
“Yeah,” said Haines, “she's got housemaid's knees from kneeling in front of the Virgin Mary in Ramon's private chapel “ Haines then asked, “Say, Bertha, what’s that dirty grapevine of yours buzz about the murders of Dolly Lovelace and her father?”
Bertha was tempted to tell them the father had really been a husband, but there was still tomorrow and her meeting with Marie Darling and the sizable sum she expected in return for her silence.
Bertha stalled “Oh? Have they been officially declared murdered?”
Haines informed her, “That’s what Hedda Hopper tells me.”
“That bitchy gossip,” said Bertha while selecting a chocolate mint. “She ought to be writing a column like Lolly Parsons, she's so frequently misinformed. How come you're so chummy with her?”
Haines grimed ' Because she's so chummy with Louis B. and I need all the friends at court I can get.”
“The frigid bitch. It's a wonder she ever managed to give birth to a son. It must be the first and only time that spit worked. Well, gentlemen, let me get cracking on these young men for you.”
“Now, just a minute,” said Novarro seriously. “They're of age, right? I'm not taking any chances.”
“Of course they're of age,” said Bertha “Would I pull something dirty on you?”
Erskine Simpson-Thwaite sat in the furnished room on Cahuenga Boulevard he'd rented hastily after the McLeods had fingered him as Bertha Graze's informer. His suitcases lay unpacked on the floor. “Damn bitch,” he muttered to himself, “dismissing me without so much as a by-your-leave. No severance pay. No references How the hell do I get a job in this town? I'm too old to peddle my ass the way I did when I got my deal with Universal.” He stood up and walked the incredibly short distance to his solitary window. “Bertha will help me. She'll have to help me. And she owes me money. Owes me money! Ha! Some fair swap! It cost me my job! What a cushy job too! Oh, Erskine Simpson-Thwaite, why are you such a foolish lad?” He found some coins in his pocket and went downstairs to use the hall telephone Bertha answered and he told her his plight.
Bertha asked Haines and Novarro, “Either of you in the market for a trustworthy valet who's smart as a whip? He's just been bounced by Marie Darling.”
Haines snickered “You mean the one with the hyphen?” Bertha nodded. “Mmmm, let me think about it.”
Bertha assured Erskine there was a good possibility of immediate employment for him and Erskine reminded her he'd be by the next day for the money due him.
Erskine went back to his room with a lighter heart and began unpacking. He didn't think the residents of Annawiil would miss the ashtrays, the cigarette lighter, and some of the good silverware, all of which he intended to pawn should the going get rough. After all, it served that rotten old harridan right for not paying him some severance. Gaily he whistled “Only a Rose” and wondered who had murdered Dolly Lovelace and her father.
After Haines and Novarro left, Bertha phoned the two boys, who were thrilled at the prospect of meeting two celebrated movie stars. 'And listen,” she warned the boy who had answered the phone, “when they ask, and I assure you they're going to ask, you tell them you're over twenty-one, you hear me?” She smiled “You two are going to make a lot of money in this town. There's lots of fairy boys coming in from New York and London and we’ll get them while they're hot.”
Over dinner in a popular restaurant on the Santa Monica pier, Herbert Villon was telling Hazel Dickson what he felt she ought to know about his adventure at Annawiil. Hazel absorbed the information with a small smile, knowing from experience that Villon had carefully edited the narrative before relating it to her. He told her nothing about Ezekiel Lovelace being Dolly's husband.
“Are you trying to tell me the old gorgon didn't give you what-for at daring to insinuate she and her kiddies could be murder suspects?”
“Oh, there were several small tornados but nothing I couldn’t handle.”
“You really believe she didn't know Ezekiel, never met him?”
“You know better than that, Hazel baby,” he said while spooning lentil soup into his mouth. “The one that confuses me is Annamary.”
“She's not very bright. She's got cottage cheese between her ears.”
“Don't be too sure about that. At one point she dropped that airy-fairy-Mary facade of hers and let go a quick blast at Mama that made my ears stand up.”
“Oh, really?”
“She's even prettier when she's angry.”
“What about Hairbreadth Harry, the husband?”
“Now, if you want to talk about a dimwit, there's your likely prospect”
“Don't kid yourself. His is the best act of all. He let Mama do all the work and she's made him a star and a millionaire. I don’t kno
w whether you heard this or not, but on the sly he's been buying up a lot of empty lots around here and Malibu and farther up the coast.”
“What's he going to do with them? Grow flowers?”
“No, sell them to the county when they decide to put in some highways.”
“Ha!” Soup dribbled down the sides of his mouth and Hazel told him to wipe it away Villon said, “It'll be years before they get around to putting in any highways The city's so corrupt they'll do nothing until some politicos are assured of an unhealthy cut.”
“That ain’t what Hedda Hopper told me.”
“Damn it, where does that woman get her info?”
“Beats hell, Herbert. She can't act for shit, but they keep her busy because she knows too much “
“One of these days she might get herself murdered “
“Don't bet on that. She's too useful to everybody. So what next, Hawkshaw?”
“Well,” said Herbert as the waiter removed his soup plate and replaced it with the pot roast special, “the next murder should help clarify things.”
It was the rare time that Hazel found herself at a loss for words. She didn't even dig into her shrimp casserole but let it cool as she waited to hear more from Herbert
“Yep, Hazel, there's murder in the air. I smell it. Dolly and her father were one thing, two isolated killings that are bound to have a bigger meaning once some other killings take place.”
Hazel finally found her voice. “You're kidding, Herbert. I mean, fun's fun but what makes you think there's more to come?”
“Remember the Renaissance?”
“Oh, sure,” said Hazel with a wry expression. “I had a ball In fact, it was so small, I had two.”
“Lots of killings in that Renaissance. Well, we're having a Renaissance of our own, and I predict there’s going to be some killings. There's a human time bomb out there ticking away, and it's soon going to detonate. And when it does, run for the hills.”
“By God, Herbert, you've sent a chill up my spine.”
“Be grateful. I'm sure that doesn't happen very often.”
“You know what you can do.” Herbert was too engrossed in his pot roast to respond “And by the way, how come you didn't tell me you know Ezekiel was really Dolly's husband?” Herbert began choking on his food Hazel smiled “Hedda Hopper knows all and tells all. I also slip her a few bucks every now and then.” Herbert was gulping some water. “I sent it out on the wire this afternoon. It'll be in all the morning papers.”
“You didn't.”
“Don't be stupid, of course I did. It's my job. And I've scooped every paper around the world.”
“I promised Marie Darling to keep it buried Oh, my my my I think the next victim just might be myself. Mama Marie is sure as hell going to plan to kill me.”
EIGHT
Marie Darling shook with rage as she held the morning newspaper in trembling hands “I’ll kill that bastard! I’ll kill that son of a bitch of a cop!” Hettie had warned Dakota to brace himself against the fury of her wrath when she read the headline, but this was even worse than Dakota had expected. “I’ll have him drawn and quartered and after that I’ll have him tortured'“ Annamary came hurrying into the breakfast room, her hair neatly tied with a pink ribbon, a delicate negligee over her blue satin pajamas “What is it, Mama? What's wrong?”
Marie held the newspaper up so that Annamary could read the headline Annamary's comment was a surprisingly simple, “Well, that's that.”
“Is that all you can say? Now the whole world knows Jack was married to a bigamist!”
“So what? Jack wasn't the bigamist.”
“I thought I could trust that man Villain.”
“Villon “
“I prefer my pronunciation .” She turned on Dakota “Don't just stand there! Pour the coffee!” She stared at her poached eggs. “Ugh They look like shriveled tits. Take them away!”
“Yes, ma'am,” said Dakota, sweeping them off the table and crossing with the plate to the sideboard for the carafe of coffee Suddenly, Marie chuckled “This'll kill Bertha Graze “
“I wish it would,” said Annamary as she buttered a thin slice of raisin wheat toast “Where's Willis?”
Annamary shrugged “Tennis. Golf, Horseback. Swimming. Screwing. Choose one from column A.”
“He told me you asked him for a divorce.”
“That's right.”
Marie watched Dakota filling the coffee cups. “There’s to be no divorce.”
“It's my life, Mama.”
“Your life is my life and there's to be no divorce. I'm seeing Alex Roland after lunch and I'm positive well come to arrangements for your first talkers. To divorce Willis now would supply Alex with the kind of ammunition that could be fatal to my negotiations.”
“Why? The publicity would be terrific. A big shot in the behind to both our fading careers.”
“Your careers are not fading. Certainly not yours. You'll always be America's Darling!”
“America's Darling has gotten too old to be America's Darling any longer. Dakota, is there any of that ham left over from last night?”
“There sure is,” he said brightly.
“I'd like some. And the coffee could be hotter.”
“Ham and hot coffee coming right up.” He was delighted to get back to the kitchen and tell Hettie about the divorce.
From upstairs Jack whined, “Mama? Where's Erskine? I can't find my jodhpurs!”
“I threw him out on his ass yesterday!”
“Why? Damn it, why?” He came hurrying down the stairs while tying the sash of his bathrobe
“Because he’s been feeding Bertha Graze everything he knows about us, that's why?”
“Who's going to dress me?”
Annamary's fist connected with the top of the table, “You're a big boy now, dress yourself!”
“Annamary,” crooned Jack, “I prefer you demure. Oh God am I hung over.”
“Wait till you see the morning paper It'll split your head wide open “ She handed it to him. He read the headline.
“Now I'm a laughingstock! Mama! I'm a laughingstock.” He was on the floor with his head cradled in her lap.
Marie patted his head There there, baby, eat something, you'll feel better We all need our strength. I'm tilting at the dragon today, and that's going to take a lot of energy.”
“He's been peddling me around town, Mama.”
“What do you mean?”
“I heard it at Madam Frances's last night. He’s trying to get loan-outs. He's tried with Goldwyn and with Darryl Zanuck at Warners for a Rin-Tin-Tin movie.”
Marie shrieked and Annamary dropped her toast “My boy supporting a dog star? Is there no end to that monsters insults!” She pushed Jack away, got up, and stomped across the room to a telephone. She barked the number of the Diamond Studios and, when connected, demanded Alexander Roland Jason Cutts picked up the phone in Roland's office. “Yes? Just a minute, Mrs. Darling. I’ll see if he's in.”
Roland, who had just endured an agonizing hour with his accountants, was spoiling for a fight. He grabbed the phone and said in his nastiest tone of voice, “What do you want?” Jason could hear the salvos of buckshot intended to shatter Roland’s eardrums. He was surprised by the stoicism with which his monstrous employer accepted Mrs Darling's abuse
“And what’s more, you dirty swine,” Marie yelled, “I'm going to make you cat dirt!”
Very calmly, Roland said, “Marie, your son, your daughter, and your son-in-law will never work for Diamond Films again. Sue and be damned. You and your family will never pass through the studio gates again. He handed the phone to Cutts. “Slam it down “
Marie yelped and then stared at the dead instrument in her hand with a mixture of horror and amazement. Jack hurried to her, “What's wrong? What did he say to you?” Dakota returned with Annamary’s ham and a fresh carafe of coffee but wisely kept a low profile when he saw Marie Darling sink to the floor and begin howling like a wounded animal. Ann
amary was frightened She was sure Marie was having a fit
“Mama! Mama! Don't, Mama, don't!”
Jack shouted at Dakota, “Brandy! Quick!”
Dakota hastily dropped the plate of ham and the carafe on the sideboard and hurried to the bar.
Marie gasped and sobbed and choked and puled, and between sound effects she beat the air with her fist. Then she attacked the floor By the time Dakota returned with the brandy, Marie was exhausted, spent, a pathetic figure whose tearstained face looked as though an army of vagrants had marched across it Then she slapped the brandy out of Dakota's hand. Dakota reared back, not knowing what next to do until Annamary waved him away.
Annamary whispered hoarsely to Jack while she took her mother into her arms to comfort her, it was a rare occasion for their roles to be reversed. “I have a feeling we’re finished, Jack.”
“We are? Are we really?” He walked away from the women and ascended the stairs, back to his room, his lips moving but no sounds emerging from his mouth.
In Alexander Roland's office an hour later, Jason Cutts announced Mrs. Roland was in the outer office. Roland indicated for Cutts to send her in and Helen Roland breezed past Jason like a pleasantly scented zephyr. When Cutts left, closing the door behind him, Roland asked brusquely as Helen settled into a chair that faced his desk, “What do you want? It better not be money. There’s going to be a lot of belt tightening around here. I'm going to be chopping heads, Helen, lots of heads.”
“I'm going back to work.”
“You're not!”
“Now there's all the more reason for me to You're in financial hot water and Joe Schenck has offered me a film at United Artists.“
His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “How come all of a sudden?”
“I haven't slept with him. Gloria Swanson arranged it for me “
“You’ve been off the screen too long They've forgotten you.”
“Joe doesn't seem to think so.”
Roland leaned across the desk. “If you go back to work, the whole industry will know I’m on my back.”
