by George Baxt
“I had it all going, and how swiftly it went. Do you suppose I might have a chance in the talkers? After all I began in the theatre. I worked with Ellen Terry and Beerbohm Tree. Don't you think my voice is still good?”
She was lighting the cigarette she had jammed into a holder while he was whining pathetically “Your voice is fine.”
He brightened and gathered steam. “I could play butlers perfectly, couldn't 1?”
“Perfectly.”
“Hedda, you couldn't possibly put in a word for me with Louis B Mayer, could you?”
A busboy brought them rolls and butter Hopper said, “I’ll see what I can do.”
Erskine Simpson-Thwaite attacked the basket of rolls ravenously. Hopper cursed herself for having committed herself to this lunch A swift phone call would have sufficed. Anyway, Jack Darling had known Alicia Leddy. That ought to be worth something to the loathsome and loathed Mrs Louella Parsons.
With Jim Mallory in tow, Herbert Villon had finally gotten his audience with Alexander Roland. He had managed to get Hazel Dickson to return to her office with a promise of dinner that night. Alexander Roland appeared to have aged since Villon had interrogated him at the murder scene. He must have had a rough time with the Darlings, Villon guessed And now Villon was compounding the damage by telling the mogul he suspected there would be fresh murders in the offing. “You know, Mr Villon,” said Roland, “I'm having a perfectly terrible day You don't mind my confiding in you like this?”
“Not at all,” said Villon agreeably, wishing the man would tell him more, a lot more.
“My actress is murdered when there’s still three weeks of shooting left to do and my insurance people now set off a load of dynamite under my butt by telling me we don't have sufficient coverage. You know, Mr Villon, I find myself surrounded by idiots. Then I have an actor who has yet to talk on the silver screen tell me that not only does he intend to write the dialogue for his first talker”—he underlined the next sentence with a mocking magnanimous gesture—”but he also means to direct it.” Villon reasoned he was talking about Jack Darling. “Now, you come into my office to tell me that your scientific mind informs you there just could be a few more murders. Is this a reasonable deduction on your part, Mr. Villon, or is it some sort of intuition you are employing—or are you merely amusing yourself by trying to scare the shit out of me?”
“Mr Roland, on the surface, Alicia Leddy's murder appears to be cruelly and tragically pointless “
“Meaning some maniac said to himself this morning or maybe yesterday or God knows when, 'I think I’ll strangle Alicia Leddy because I’ve got nothing better to do.'”
“Actually, Mr. Roland, that's how a lot of killings do occur. Pointless, meaningless, motiveless. But in Leddy's case, I think she was murdered to cause you harm.”
Roland's voice was rising “You're back to my wife again!”
“Not at all. Please don't jump to conclusions. I disciplined myself a long time ago not to jump to conclusions. Detection, Mr. Roland, you must believe me, is ten percent looking for clues and ninety percent thinking. You also hope for a lucky break, and those have happened to me too. But in this case, I think Leddy was killed because the killer wanted it to cost you money.”
“He must have a very benevolent fairy godmother because his wish has been granted. It is costing me a hell of a lot of money.”
“But it isn’t going to break you.”
“Whose side are you on?”
“I'm dead serious .”
Jim Mallory thought, And Alicia Leddy is seriously dead
“I think the murderer is out to break you. He, or possibly she, is out to bring Diamond Films to ruin.”
Roland was flabbergasted. “But why?”
“That's what I'm trying to find out. Who wants to destroy you and your studio?”
Roland exhaled. “Well, off the top of my head I can think of half a dozen competitors. I admit we're a pretty ruthless bunch. Do you know at this very moment William Fox of Fox Films and Louis B Mayer of MCM are conspiring to gain complete control of Mayers company? Do you realize this man is willing to sell out to an arch-rival because he's mad at the men in his New York office who give him orders? It will fall through, but it is a perfect example of the treachery that goes on in this industry and will continue to go on long past our time. So you tell me. Mr Villon, who wants to destroy me?”
“You might give it some thought.”
“Don't be stingy, let's give it a whole lot of thought “ He tilted his chair slightly and looked out the window at the activity below Scenery being hauled from workroom to soundstage, costume racks trundling along the road, actors and actresses, technicians, hustling from stage to stage. He never ceased to wonder at how he enjoyed knowing he was responsible for it all He also knew if he had to give it up, he would die, slowly but surely. He sighed and directed his attention back to Villon “A lot of actors who were big in silents and are now on the skids I'm sure would love to ruin me. But why just me? Why not Zukor at Paramount and Jack Warner and the others who helped put the grease under the skids?”
“Someone who has a really powerful hatred.”
Roland shook his head from side to side, pondering Villon's ugly statement, and then asked, “It couldn't just be some run-of-the-mill maniac on the loose?”
“It could, but I don't think so The person who murdered Alicia Leddy realized it would cost you a lot of money to replace her. Maybe the killer reasoned he'd forced you to shut down the movie altogether. Maybe the killer didn't bank on the fact you'd be lucky enough to get Annamary Darling for a quick replacement.”
Roland sat bolt upright “My God! You're not suggesting Annamary's life is now in danger!”
“Mr Roland, Dolly and Ezekiel Lovelace were murdered over the past couple of weeks They had links to the Darling family.”
“But they had no link to Alicia Leddy, did they?”
“I don't know. If there is, I'm going to try and find it. What other expensive pictures do you have in production?”
“My big musical, Daughter of the Casbah. I’m a half a million in the hole on that one already!” He mentioned two others, and Villon and Jim Mallory exchanged looks emphasized with raised eyebrows
“How big a studio police force do you have?” asked Villon
“I don't know the exact numbers, but it's a sizable payroll. Believe me, it's a very sizable payroll. I wish I could pare it.”
“I'd beef it up, if I were you.”
“But to do what?”
'Triple-check strangers wandering around. Triple-check security at your gates. Keep an eye out for suspicious-looking characters.”
“Just about everybody in a studio is a suspicious-looking character!” exclaimed Roland
“I'd especially tighten the security on whatever soundstage Annamary Darling is working on. Don't give me that look, Mr Roland Better to exercise overcaution then to have your people underguarded I also suggest you increase the security at your home.”
“Yes. Yes, you're right. Perhaps you've heard my wife—she's Helen Orling—is making a return in talkers. Yes, I'm certainly going to add more protection for her right now.” He buzzed the intercom and barked a series of orders to Jason Cutts for increased security. When he finished, Villon and Mallory moved to leave.
Roland stood up and walked them to the door. “Well, Mr. Villon, thank you for a terribly pleasant chat “ He opened the door for them. “Let's not do it too often.”
ELEVEN
“This sort of thing never happened when I worked for the Shuberts,” trilled Lotus Fairweather nervously on soundstage 5. “I toured for them in Blossom Time. The Student Prince, and Rose Marie. but never once was a member of the tour murdered .” She had conveniently forgotten her own near-assassination by a Chicago critic “I'm so frightened, Donald I refuse to sit in my dressing room unaccompanied.”
“There there,” soothed her costar, Donald Carewe “Why would anyone want to mark you for death?” Except me, yo
u clumsy bitch, upstaging me at every opportunity.”
She looked around the set with apprehension. “Do you realize the murderer might be among us right here? He might be one of the spear holders or one of the Nubian slaves or—”
“Stop wringing your hands,” cautioned Carewe “It looks very stagey “ He studied the frightened woman whom he had known for a good many years. He was there that day so many years ago when she had finally admitted she was thirty years old. Now her eyes were darting around like sparrows caught in a tornado. Her skin was flushed and her mouth reminded him of a blob of congealed blood.
“I can't work under these conditions, I just can't. I want to go home They should let us all go home. “ She hurried in search of the director.
In the commissary, the usual hubbub of voices was now a cautionary hum. Alicia Leddy’s murder was the topic of conversation with the return of the Darlings and Willis Loring running the murder a close second. Willis Loring's visit to the Daughter of the Casbab set had borne fruit. He had captivated Rita Gerber and they were now sharing a pot of tea and a plate of biscuits.
Rita Gerber had her hands clasped under the table trying to stop them from shaking “I don't mind admitting, Mr. Loring—”
“Willis.”
“Yeah. I don't like your Hollywood. I don't like what's going on around here. Murder! Christ, I can't stop shaking.”
“Have a sip of your tea.”
“It's too hot. She and I came out on the same train.”
“She? You mean Alicia Leddy?”
“She was so innocent. Just a kid, honest. I think she was maybe eighteen or nineteen years old. Snuffed out just like that. The stars of this turkey I’m in are demanding bodyguards.”
“You should too.“
“I'm only a supporting player. And borrowed.”
“It's a good sign if they're borrowing you.”
She brightened. “Oh yes?”
“That means the word's out that you're promising “
“As what?” she asked suspiciously
“As an actress
“How would they know? This is my first assignment.”
“If you were signed directly from a Broadway play, that means you've got something a bit more special than the others already out here.”
“Sure. Goose pimples.” She sipped her tea “It's okay now. The way I like it. Your brother-in-law liked her too.”
“The girl? Jack knew the girl?”
“He met her this morning. Right here. I introduced them.”
“When did you meet Jack?”
“Today. We sort of got to talking. I like him. I usually like them tall, dark, and handy. But Jacks got something different. He looks like he needs mothering.”
Willis was amused. “You might be right. His mother was always stingy with her affections.”
Rita looked at her wristwatch “I wonder if I should be getting back to the set. It's beginning to get dark out there. I don't want to be walking around the lot in the dark. It's creepy and spooky—too many places somebody could hide and then come jumping out at me.”
“I’ll walk you back to the set “
“Oh would you? Gee, you're a peach!”
In Bertha Graze's apartment, a young actress named Thelma Todd was admiring the paisley shawl artistically draped across the grand piano. “This is real paisley, isn't it?”
“Oh yes, my dear. A gift from an old admirer. My father “ She was walking about the room slowly, chewing a nougat and switching on some lamps “Now then, shall we get down to your reading? Who did you say recommended me, dear?”
“Charley Chase “
“Oh yes, the comic at Hal Roach Studios. So he recommended me, did he? How nice considering I gave him a very dark reading “
Todd had positioned herself at the table holding the crystal ball, directly across from Bertha The lamp behind Bertha caused her face to reflect a satanic cast. The movement of her jaws made Todd think of a shark about to pounce. She asked, “What's a very dark reading?”
“Well, dear, it's what happens when the crystal ball suddenly goes dark in a spot. That could be very troubling.”
“Something bad in the future?”
“Usually.”
“Like what?1' She was nonchalantly lighting a cigarette.
“All sorts of things.” Bertha wondered who, if anyone, was Todd's lover. She loved to jolt a client by telling them the days of a current affair were numbered “The dark spot could mean a death in the family, an option won't be renewed, a miscarriage, small annoyances like that.”
“Could it mean murder?”
“It certainly could. Why do you ask? Do you know something I should know?”
“Did you by any chance get to read Alicia Leddy?”
“Why, no, I didn't. I never met the poor thing “
“I did. I met her at a party last week. Funny …” She exhaled smoke, which settled briefly around Bertha's head like a slipped halo. “She couldn't get over her luck in starring in her first talker, and who could blame her. But you know, she had this strange premonition that something would go wrong with the movie.”
“From what I've heard, she was what was wrong with it. It was all over town. Henry Turk was going crazy trying to get a performance out of her. Alex Roland should have dropped her weeks ago. But she was his girl and I don't have to tell you the rest. Now, let's see what I can see. “ She closed her eyes and passed her hands over the sphere while mumbling something that sounded like “ubbledeeoooogoooo.“ Thelma kept her eyes on the crystal ball, hoping it wouldn't divulge anything pornographic. This former grade-school teacher had a taste for sexual low jinks she didn't learn in the halls of academe. Bertha rested her hands at her sides, opened her eyes slowly, and stared into the ball “Ahhhhhh “
“What do you see?”
“I see a tall man.”
“Is he dark?”
“He is dark.”
Thelma said coyly, “I like them tall, dark, and handy.”
“He's in your apartment.”
“Where?”
“The bedroom's a safe guess.”
Thelma smiled warmly “Do you think he's going to attack me?”
“No.”
“Shit.”
“You're having a disagreement.”
“Sweetie, you don’t need a crystal ball to tell me that. Everybody in this town knows that Toddy rarely gets along with her men Can't get along and can't do without.”
Thelma wasn't aware Bertha was stalling, trying to unlock from her vast store of memory something she might have heard about the actress that she could now elaborate on. “You knew Dolly Lovelace?”
“Yes, I did I was in a couple of her pictures. Don't tell me you predicted her murder?”
Bertha was home safe. Dolly Lovelace. Thelma had thrown her the ball and Bertha now carried it gracefully as she popped a Jujube into her mouth “She had a very dark spot and it was a real big one.” Their eyes locked “She laughed at me. She didn't believe me. Within a month she was dead “
Thelma shuddered “I was at the funeral. I was almost crushed to death. My pal ZaSu Pitts rescued me, she pulled me under a pew with her. And that's when the coffin fell over and Dolly's body came out with arms outstretched like she was begging to be brought back to life. And the next thing you know Jack's hugging her and kissing her and it was so awfully macabre and disgusting and ZaSu thought it was so romantic. She has her problems too.”
Bertha gasped and then clasped a hand over her mouth. Thelma stubbed the cigarette out in an ashtray. “Come on, come on, don't horse around with Toddy. What do you see? It's a dark spot, right? Come on, out with it I can take it. I ain't afraid of anything I've worked with Alexander Korda.”
“Goddamn it, I see me.” She was wiping the crystal ball with her handkerchief.
“How did you get into my act?”
“I see myself! And the paisley shawl It's around my neck and choking me!”
“Ah, stop kidding around, Berth
a. That's an awfully large paisley shawl “ On the other hand, Bertha had an awfully large neck.
Bertha left the table. The room shook as she crossed to a window that overlooked her backyard “I shouldn't have seen myself in your reading “
“Maybe some cosmic wires got crossed,” reasoned Todd
“They shouldn't have This is the first time we’ve met.”
“Maybe we knew each other in another life. Do you believe in reincarnation?” Bertha didn't answer. She was deeply troubled “Say, listen,” Thelma tried. “Maybe this is a first! Maybe were both sharing that dark spot. Ha ha ha! Wouldn't that be funny?'
Lotus Fairweather was frightening everyone with her predictions of doom on soundstage 5, probably the only Cassandra in existence who could hit a high C. Instead of shattering glass, she was shattering nerves. Several of the personnel had seen Alicia Leddy's body carried to the meat wagon. Rita Gerber was wondering where she could procure some sleeping drafts, foreseeing rejection by the arms of Morpheus. Willis Loring had decided to hang around the set after escorting Rita back from the commissary. There were so many pretty girls in various stages of undress, a smorgasbord of feminine pulchritude. He saw Jack Darling deep in conversation with a sound technician who seemed to be impressed by whatever lines Jack was feeding him. Donald Carewe was basking in the knowledge that the brothers Shubert back in New York wanted him to star in a tour of The Desert Song, which they wanted to send out quickly before Jack Warner released his singing talker starring John Boles.
Carewe’s agent had reached him in his dressing room. “Listen, kiddo, we better grab this offer. Your Casbah thing is already being fitted with a black wreath. Sorry, kiddo, but I can tell from the rushes the movies ain't for you “ Carewe was a practical man who had a wife and four children back in Great Neck, Long Island The Shuberts didn’t pay the best but they paid better than most and their tours were guaranteed because they had a monopoly of theaters across the United States. Onscreen, his image magnified a hundred times, he was too old to be playing leading men. Onstage, with heavy makeup and footlights and overheads, he could still look younger And Sigmund Romberg's score was lovely. He could sing “One Alone” to perfection. Then his stomach turned a somersault at the thought that the role of Margo, his leading lady, might be offered to Lotus Fairweather. He hurried to a phone and called his agent.
