"But isn't that what Ben told you?" I'd filled him in on my conversation with Ben while were getting dressed. "These things take months to plan. She's known about this for a while." He snapped his fingers. "Didn't you tell me that Hedda Hopper flew up to the City on that DC-3 of yours? I bet that's when this little scheme got hatched." Robert, the whiz-kid who managed all my properties, had bought the DC-3 a few months ago and had been selling seats on it ever since. Most of the people traveling on it were usually Hollywood stars headed up to San Francisco for some weekend fun.
I laughed. "Look, Chief, as much as my head is still spinning about all of this, I doubt your mother purposely excluded us. This smells more like Hedda to me."
Carter crossed his arms. I pulled them down. "You look ridiculous when you cross your arms in a fitted jacket."
He complied and shook his head. "You're still in trouble with me, Nick. That's just another demerit in the book."
I grinned. "When did I start earning demerits?"
"Ten seconds ago. Tread carefully, son."
I rolled my eyes. "You always promise and I'm still waiting for your delivery."
He grinned down at me and popped the knuckles on both hands.
"Oh, I'm scared now," was my sarcastic reply as Mrs. Jones came around a corner.
I straightened up as she said, "There you two are. We've been looking all over for you."
Before I could say anything, Carter said, "Invitation only, Mama."
She smiled. "Well, of course. But what are you doing out here?"
"They wouldn't let us in. Nick had to send Dick Powell and June Allyson in to find Roz so we could get in. Even after Nick pointed out that we're Williams and Jones." His tone was frosty. That was the best way to describe it.
I saw her eyes flash briefly. She patted the back of her hair and said, "I'll get this straightened out. Wait here."
I looked up at Carter as she walked over to the entrance to the ballroom. "She was about to give you a whoopin'."
He nodded but didn't reply. I could see that he was seething. I sighed and watched as Mrs. Jones began gesticulating to the man at the entrance. Right about then, Roz showed up. After saying saying a quick hello to Ricardo Montalban, she slipped past and pulled Mrs. Jones aside. They had a quick chat. Roz then walked up to the warden and began to talk to him. Because of the orchestra playing in the ballroom and the general buzz in the lobby, I couldn't hear anything. After a moment, she threw up her hands and walked over to us, followed closely by Mrs. Jones.
She shook her head. "Well, if this don't beat all." She lowered her voice and said, "I knew this would happen. That Hopper woman has made herself queen of the ball." Looking over at Carter's mother, she said, "It was too good to be true when she volunteered to work with the hotel and handle the invitations." Looking at me, she said, "Now I know why Billy and Jimmie weren't on the list. Hedda despises them. That's also why Louella and Winchell, or one of his people, aren't here." She shook her head and put her hand under her chin.
I asked, "Where's Miss Hopper?"
Roz smiled sourly. "Up in a suite having her own party. Special invitation only and one not dare put in an entrance." She thought for a moment and then said, "There's only one thing we can do." She smiled wickedly. "We'll crash the joint." She picked up the train of her dress. "Come on, kids. Follow me."
. . .
We crashed our own party by sneaking in through the kitchen. Roz was asked for autographs by a couple of the guys and gals which she dutifully gave. Once we got in, we followed her across the massive ballroom and over to a grouping of three tables.
I was surprised but, then again, not surprised to see my father and Lettie along with Carter's Aunt Velma and Geneva Watkins. The three ladies, along with Mrs. Jones, made up a quartet that I liked to call The Four Terrors. They were each quite formidable ladies in their own way, but, as a group, they were unstoppable. Whether it was harassing the governor to grant a well-deserved pardon or showing up at a Board of Supervisors meeting to protest the Western Addition urban renewal plan, those ladies were a force to be reckoned with.
After we all went through the surprise of seeing them in Los Angeles, I suddenly realized who else was missing. I turned to Roz and said, "Billy Haines is probably out there. I asked Ben to invite him. Billy is escorting Pola Negri."
Roz looked surprised. "Pola Negri? She still lives here?"
I nodded. "Yes. I need to talk to her. It has to do with Carlo Martinelli."
She nodded and then surveyed the group. "OK. I need all of your invitations, please. We have to bust up the joint."
Everyone laughed and did as she'd asked. Once she had them in hand, she picked up her train and said, "Let's go, kiddo."
Ed stepped up right then and said, "Pardon me, Roz. I'll go with Nick."
She nodded with a knowing smile. "Of course." Handing over the small pile to me, she added, "I'm sorry about all this, Nick."
I leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. "Thank you for raising all this money."
She smiled wanly. "That is rather the point, isn't it?"
. . .
As we walked across the ballroom, Ed said, "Have you thought more about what we asked you this morning?"
I looked at him. "About what?"
"About Louise and I getting married."
I sighed and stopped. Ed took my arm and pulled me out of the line of traffic as David Niven said, "Pardon us," and walked by with Deborah Kerr on his arm.
"I'm sorry, Ed. Today has been a really weird day."
He nodded. He narrowed his eyes for a moment and said, "If I were you, I would think this whole setup was a little odd."
I looked around the ballroom, confused for a moment. When I realized what he meant, I said, "I want you to be happy, Ed. What do your kids think?"
"Well, four of them are all for it. I'm still waiting to hear from the other two."
"Other two?" Ed had two boys, Ken and Bobby. They were both married. That accounted for four. I wondered if he had another child somewhere I didn't know about.
He playfully cuffed me on the ear. "Yeah, the other two. You and Carter."
I nodded. I could feel the tears rising up and trying to get out. "Oh, right," was all I could say as Howard Keel bumped up against me.
He nodded, said, "Sorry," and walked away. Any illusion I'd once had that he was as handsome as Carter faded right then.
Ed stepped back even further and pulled me with him. "Is this about your mother?" he asked with concern in his voice and his face.
I nodded. "I'm having a hard time imagining—"
Ed grinned. "Then stop, Nick. You think I spend any time imagining any of my kids in that way?" He shook his head. "No, I don't, because it's none of my damn business who they fuck as long as they're happy. And, except for Bobby, who can only really be happy when he's a little miserable, all of you are just that. You're all in love and that's all that matters to me."
That got right to the heart of things. I smiled. "You're right, Ed. It isn't any of my business." I offered my hand. "Congratulations."
He shook and then pulled me in for a hug. After patting me on the back several times. "Now let's get out there," he whispered. "I can't believe I'm going to meet Pola Negri."
He let me go. I looked at his face. He looked about fifteen years old. He laughed and pushed me towards the door.
. . .
"Thank God, Nick!" That was Billy. He was waiting right about where Carter and I had been standing earlier. On his left arm was dark-haired woman of about 50. She had a striking face. Her lips were painted a bright red against her pale skin. Her blue eyes were half-lidded and accentuated by a heavy mascara. She was short but not petite. She smiled briefly at me and more engagingly at Ed as she caught sight of him.
Ben, who was on her right, asked, "Why wouldn't they let us in?"
Billy hissed, "This has Hedda written all over it."
I nodded and handed Billy two invitations and one to Ben.
Ed said, "Follow me." And we did.
. . .
Once we were all settled at the tables, with everyone introduced, I pulled Billy aside. "I'm sorry—"
Before I could finish, he waved me away. "I know this. I recognize this kind of treatment. No one dare cross Hedda, but this is just like her." Scanning the ballroom, he said, "Where is she?"
"Upstairs holding her own private party."
He frowned. "That doesn't sound like Hedda. I'm sure she'll be here at any minute and start talking about how she organized everything. She tends to do that."
"Thanks for coming and bringing Pola Negri."
He grinned. "This has to do with Carlo and that kid who got stabbed at Juan Zane's house, doesn't it?"
I nodded. "Do you know anything about that?"
He shrugged and looked vaguely uneasy for a moment. "All I can tell you is that there's no drug dealing at his house. That story is a front. It's happening somewhere else, but no one I know can say where." He looked at me with a worried expression. "Just be careful."
"Why?"
"You don't want to run up against the Beverly Hills Chief of Police. He'd rat out his own mother if he thought it would get him in the papers."
I nodded. "Thanks, Billy."
"You're welcome, Nick." Taking my elbow, he said, "Let me introduce you to Pola."
We walked back over to the table where she was sitting. My father and Ed, along with Freddie and a man I didn't recognize, were gathered around her, hanging on her every word.
I glanced over and saw The Four Terrors talking and whispering on the far side of the big round table. Lettie looked up at me and rolled her eyes in my direction. I grinned back at her and she shrugged.
We waited as Miss Negri said, in a thick accent, "Well, then, as I'm sure you must know, all I was wearing in that picture was a very lacy black negligee. Charlie came in the dressing room door, all in a rage, and told me that he was leaving me. I told him, 'My dear Mr. Chaplin, you can go back to your wife, if you want, but I am staying here. My next scene is coming up.'" All the men laughed, particularly my father. I had a feeling I'd missed something important about the story.
My father saw me and said, "Hello, Nicholas." I nodded as he looked down at the actress and said, "Pola, may I introduce my son?"
She turned and looked at me. "Yes, this young man let us come in. Good evening, Nicholas." She offered her hand for me to kiss, which I did. The men laughed. I really wasn't sure what was funny.
"May I have this dance?" I asked.
She raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow and then stood. "Why, yes, young man. I would be enchanted."
I smiled and offered my left arm. She took it and we walked towards the dance floor. The orchestra was just starting up a slow swing take on "Something's Gotta Give" right then. As we moved around the dance floor, I said, "You had all the men at the table eating out of your hand."
She smiled up at me and said, "But not you." She looked at my face for a moment. "You are like Billy, no?"
I nodded. "Yes."
"Where is your man?"
"He's the tall blond one with all the muscles."
She rolled her eyes. "What are these muscles? So unnatural, I think."
I laughed. "You're probably right."
"Which of my pictures have you seen? Any of them? You are so young."
"I saw Hi Diddle Diddle when I was in the Navy. I don't think my father would let me see your other movies."
She smiled. "He is very wealthy, is he not?"
I nodded. "Sure."
"But he is married." She sounded a little disappointed.
I laughed. "Yes. And my stepmother is someone to watch out for."
She leaned against me and rested her head on my chest. Her perfume was exotic and reminded me of something I couldn't quite place. "That is good to know." It was an oddly tender moment.
After we danced a bit longer, I said, "May I ask you a question?"
"But, of course, my dear."
"Can you introduce me to Juan Zane?"
She laughed. "He will try to pick you like a plum, my dear. He would happily meet you. But you cannot bring your giant with you. Juan does not like them. He has told me this. Rock Hudson does not catch his fancy."
I laughed. "Good to know."
The orchestra had moved on to "Rock Around The Clock." The dance floor had a turnover. Most of the couples left as new ones arrived. I said, "Do you mind if we have a seat?"
She pulled out of my arms. "Bah. I do not like this song. I do not wish to rock around the clock."
I offered my left arm, which she took. "Me, neither, sister. Me neither."
She laughed. "Perhaps I am your aunt. I can never be your sister."
"Just an expression."
She squeezed my arm and, sounding like a matron from New York City, said, "I know all the words, Nick."
I stared down at her as we eased off the dance floor. "What was that?"
In an absurdly thick accent, she replied, "Nozhing, darlink."
I laughed as she winked at me.
. . .
I walked over to where Mrs. Jones was sitting with Ed, Aunt Velma, and Geneva. I extended my hand to Carter's mother and asked, "May I have this dance?"
Right then, the orchestra was playing "Hernando's Hydeaway."
Mrs. Jones looked up at me with a smile. "I'm not very good at the tango."
I smiled. "Me, neither. I think they're almost to the end. By the time—" Right then, the orchestra started up with "Some Enchanted Evening".
Mrs. Jones stood. "This I can dance to."
I offered her my left arm and looked at Ed. "Do you mind?"
"Not at all," he said with a smile. "You two have fun."
I looked at Aunt Velma and Geneva. "I hope the two of you will save a dance for me."
They both nodded. Geneva asked, "How's your Lindy?"
I shrugged. "Fair to middlin'"
Everyone laughed as we walked over to the dance floor. Once we were there, I put my right arm around her back and offered my left hand.
As we began to dance, she said, "This is such a long way from Albinny." That was how the natives pronounced Albany, her hometown.
"Carter says we're flying high. Maybe too high."
She nodded. "He's right." She sighed. "But I do like to be able to do something good for other people and to see the bigger world. I really thought I'd die in that kitchen."
I didn't reply as I had let myself be carried away by the song. There was no singer, but I knew the words. Carter and I had seen South Pacific on Broadway back in '49 and that song was one of my favorites. I'd always thought it perfectly described how we'd met in '47. "Across a crowded room" was exactly right.
"You obviously didn't grow up in the church choir, did you, Nick?"
I looked down at Mrs. Jones and asked, "Was I singing?"
"Whispering is more like it. I don't know why, but I always think of you when I hear this song. I guess it's because you were in the South Pacific during the war." Her voice caught a little as she said that last bit. "How far is Guam from where you were stationed?"
"A couple thousand miles. But the Pacific is a big ocean."
She rested her head on my chest as the orchestra started up with "Chattanooga Choo-Choo."
She sighed. "Wilson loved this song, for some reason." That was Carter's father. "Did you ever see Sun Valley Serenade?" The song was in that movie.
"Sure. Mike took me to see it in the summer of '41."
"I like Mike." She giggled. I assumed because it sounded like "I like Ike."
"He's a great guy."
"Did you know that Bobby died at Guam?" Bobby was Carter's older brother.
"Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry."
She nodded, her head still on my chest. "Thank you, Nick. That happened the same time my sister Maria passed away. He enlisted the same time you did, right after Pearl Harbor. He was married on the twelfth of December. And then he was gone. We never saw him again."
"Yes." She didn't say anything else. I'd learned not to push her, so I didn't say anything else either.
. . .
"Well, what do you think?" That was my father. I was standing with him watching the action on the dance floor. Carter was out on the floor dancing with Lettie. The orchestra was playing "Cherry Pink And Apple Blossom White" which was a song that he and I both liked. Carter and Lettie were doing a sort of modified rumba. It was entertaining to watch.
"I think that Lettie can do just about anything."
My father laughed. "Yes, Nicholas, she can. I was asking about Ed and Louise. About them getting married."
"As long as it makes them both happy. That's all that matters."
My father nodded. "I agree." He seemed to have something on his mind.
"Where's your pipe?"
"Upstairs. Lettie wouldn't let me bring it down."
I laughed.
He looked at me with narrowed eyes. "You have something to say about that, Nicholas?"
"No, sir."
He smiled. "Good." He watched as Carter and Lettie began to make their way back to the table.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a woman in a long white dress and a ridiculous hat making her way towards us. She was glad-handing everyone along the way.
"Who is that person?" asked my father.
It gave me a thrill to hear the tone of scorn in his voice. And that he called her a "person" made me almost giddy.
"That's our hostess." As I said that, the orchestra started playing a light version of "Dance With Me, Henry." As she heard the music, Hedda frowned.
"That is Hedda Hopper?"
"Yes, sir."
"I see. Well." He crossed his arms. "Lettie will undoubtedly make mincemeat of her. Let's have a seat. The show's about to begin."
I stared at my father for a long moment.
He took my arm. "Stop gaping, Nicholas. I'd pay good money to be able to have seen what you did to George Hearst at the Top of the Mark that night. Yes, sir." He laughed. "Good money."
I followed him to the table and met Carter. My father walked around to where Lettie was standing. She was watching Hedda arrive like the Coast Guard watches an incoming hurricane. Of course, I wasn't sure who, exactly, was the greater force in that instance.
The Pitiful Player (A Nick Williams Mystery Book 14) Page 14
