“And the more I learned about Doris, the more intriguing she became,” Rubi said. “I especially like hearing that she fills entire vaults within Swiss banks with gold bars in her name.”
When all three adults at table focused on Elizabeth, she told them about her career crisis and her desire to play more mature roles. “I want to be a movie star, maybe not the greatest actress in the world, but more famous than Lana Turner.”
“My darling, I think you’ll make it,” Rubi said. “It’s a treacherous town, though. Two studios wanted me. I could play a Latin lover type. But when I applied for a special work visa, I was rejected by some bureaucrat. He claimed my role could be played by any number of American actors.”
“I’m sure you would have become a star,” Elizabeth said. “Too bad you didn’t get a chance.”
“But he’s still the big attraction in boudoirs on two continents,” Flynn said. “Even better at it than I am, and of that, I’m certain.”
After dessert, Duke rose from the table and took Flynn’s hand. She announced that she and Flynn had some business matters to discuss upstairs, and Rubi had to make some important phone calls. “He’s in trouble again with various governments, including Spain, France, and the United States. But my lawyers will help him.”
“In the meantime, darling, I have an amusement for you,” Duke said. “Go into that library. I took out some jewelry. They’re all valuable pieces, but I don’t keep my world class gems here. Look at them, decide which one you want, and feel free to take it home.”
“Miss Duke, surely you don’t mean that,” Elizabeth said.
“But I do,” Duke said.
In the library, Elizabeth picked up each piece of jewelry, each more dazzling than the one that preceded it. She could not decide, as she wanted all of them. She’d later recall, “My world interest in jewelry began that night. It was one of the hardest decisions of my life, but I finally decided on a ruby-and-diamond bracelet.”
When she returned to join the others, Flynn and Duke had not yet emerged from upstairs, but she spotted Rubi smoking a cigarette on the terrace. She joined him in the moonlight.
“Nights like this remind me of Santo Domingo,” he said. “I’m a funny kind of guy. Wherever I am, I’m dreaming of being someplace else. When I’m sitting under a café canopy in Paris, as the winter rains come down, I’m thinking of sunny California. When I’m dining at Chasen’s in Los Angeles, I want to be entering Maxim’s in Paris. In New York in a penthouse overlooking Central Park, I’m remembering the fading light over the Colosseum in Rome.”
“I want to experience all those places, too,” Elizabeth said.
“In time, you’ll know them all, I’m sure,” he assured her. “You’ll even know what it’s like to make love to me.”
“You certainly have confidence,” she said.
“One thousand, perhaps two thousand—I forget—women have made me very confident. Instead of making love to you tonight, I think I’ll wait a few years, but not too long. I’ll let others break you in for me. Perhaps one night when I hear we’re both in Paris, I’ll call you.”
“I think I’ll accept your invitation,” she said. “After all, you’re known as the world’s greatest lover.”
At that point, Duke and Flynn joined them on the terrace.
Elizabeth thanked Duke for the evening, and showed her the bracelet she’d chosen.
“A wise choice,” Duke said. “You and Errol have been a delight, and I want to invite both of you to join Rubi and me on a flight to Buenos Aires. After the war, I bought a B-25 bomber and had it converted into a private passenger plane. It has a bar and a lavish kitchen, and it seats ten people. Rubi likes to fly to Argentina every now and then to fuck Eva Peron, while I seek other amusement among the tango dancers. He even donates money I give him to Eva’s charities.”
“When Juan Peron learned of this,” Rubi said, “he was quoted as saying, ‘It’s the first time in recorded history that a pimp ever gave money to a harlot.’”
On the way back home, Elizabeth chastised Flynn. “You told me you’re still weak and out of commission, but I noticed you had enough energy to go upstairs to fuck Doris.”
“That’s not quite true,” he said. “I didn’t bang her, sport. She likes to masturbate while I voraciously suck her toes.”
“Oh, I see,” she said. “Little Miss Taylor is learning more about the world every day.”
***
On a previous date with Robert Stack, he had informed Elizabeth that John F. Kennedy, newly elected to Congress from Massachusetts, would be at his house at around noon on Saturday. She accepted an invitation for a late luncheon with Stack and his longtime friend.
Before World War II, a mutual friend, Alfredo de la Vega, had introduced JFK to Stack. It was the beginning of a friendship that lasted throughout the course of JFK’s life.
Since she’d last seen JFK, he’d become a naval hero, partly because of the publicity generated by his father’s media machine in association with his military service during World War II. She’d read that his PT boat had been rammed and sunk by a Japanese destroyer, and that JFK had heroically rescued his men from death in the South Pacific.
Prior to JFK’s arrival, Stack relayed stories to her about the young politician’s previous visits to Hollywood, and how many doors had been opened to him thanks to his status as son of “the Ambassador,” the former movie producer Joseph Kennedy, Sr., himself a legend in Hollywood.
During the early days of his friendship with JFK, Robert occupied a small apartment that lay at the end of a cul-de-sac, Whitley Terrace, between Cahuenga and Highland Boulevards in the Hollywood Hills. One of the apartment’s bedrooms had a low ceiling only five feet high. Stack had defined this as “The Flag Room,” a “chamber of seduction.” On its ceiling, Stack had pinned replicas of the flags of many nations. When he escorted a woman inside, she lay on the bed and was instructed to memorize the position of each of the flags with the understanding that later, after cocktails, she’d be quizzed as to which nation each of them represented. If she flunked the quiz, she had to “pay the piper.”
“All the girls flunked,” Stack told Elizabeth. “There were too many flags to remember. One beautiful young model, Norma Jeane Baker, flunked four times and had to suffer punishment from both Jack and me.”
[Norma Jeane, a short time later, changed her name to Marilyn Monroe.]
In his memoirs, Straight Shooting, Stack confessed that it was in this Flag Room that “I learned about the birds, the bees, the barracudas, and other forms of Hollywood wildlife.” He had persuaded his parents to rent the hideaway apartment for him as a retreat where he could pursue his studies. “I studied all right,” he said, “female anatomy. As for those flags, I taught Jack to recognize the banners of many countries, and therefore helped prepare him for the geopolitics he needed later in his life.”
Top photo: Highly sexed bachelors at large: Robert Stack with John F. Kennedy in the early 1940s Lower photos: 17-year-old Elizabeth Taylor and (right) June Allyson
Stack rearranged the flags every night so that some foxy lady, paying her third or fourth visit, would not be able to memorize their positions and lineup order.
He recalled that through his humble portals passed “a guest list that ran the gamut from chorus line cuties to Academy Award winners.”
Judy Garland, who dated both JFK and Stack, had been seduced there by both of them, and later asserted that they were “the two most desirable bachelors in Hollywood. All the girls were after them, and some of the boys, too.”
“I’d known most Hollywood stars, and JFK could attract more women than anybody.” Stack said. “He’d just look at a gal, and she was ready to give him a tumble. To my regret, most of the girls went for Jack instead of me. In my conceited way, I thought I was much prettier than Jack, and certainly a better swordsman.”
To his best friend back East, Lem Billings, Jack referred to Stack as “my libidinous buddy. He threw down the red car
pet for me on my last visit to Hollywood. Crossing it were beautiful stars, lovely starlets, and so-so wannabes.”
In later years, Stack told friends that before his latest arrival, JFK had told him, “I want to fuck every woman in Hollywood…I want to specialize in celebrity poontang.”
Before JFK’s expected arrival, Elizabeth learned early one morning in make-up at MGM that she wasn’t the only woman awaiting the upcoming arrival of the handsome young politician from Massachusetts. She sat next to June Allyson, and learned that she, too, was eager to date JFK after having had an affair with him back in 1946.
The stars lining up every workday for make-up were often amazingly frank in their discussion of men. It was their favorite sport and distraction during an oft-repeated ritual performed by mainly homosexual technicians, who glamorized the actresses’ faces and eavesdropped on every conversation.
Allyson was billed as the wholesome-looking “Girl Next Door,” but throughout MGM, she was known as a predatory nymphomaniac. She’d invite members of the film crew, including grips, to her dressing room during breaks.
“I know you’re dating Bob Stack, and Jack Kennedy will be staying with him,” Allyson told her. “Perhaps we’ll go out on a double date.”
“Perhaps,” Elizabeth responded, concealing her jealousy of the older star.
“I fell really big for him a couple of years back,” Allyson confessed. “Later, I found out I was competing with Gene Tierney and that overbite of hers. In many ways, Jack reminds me of our mutual friend, Peter Lawford. Both are fun loving and good looking.”
“Jack can literally charm the pants off a girl,” Allyson continued. “He calls his penis ‘the implement.’ He wants a girl at both the front and back doors. I’d never had anal sex before. It hurt. He’s utterly ingratiating, but not that great in the sack. He’s a sort of ‘Slam, Bam, Thank You, Ma’am’ type of lover. When the dirty deed is done, he wants to move on to his next conquest.”
Elizabeth deliberately did not tell Allyson that she’d spent a day with JFK when she was a little girl growing up in pre-war London. She was thrilled with anticipation when Stack picked her up on Saturday and drove her to his house, where JFK had arrived and had been taking a nap when he’d left him. “He told me he’s seen only National Velvet, so he has no idea of what you look like now.”
When they reached his house, Stack directed Elizabeth to his pool, where JFK was waiting. Looking rail-thin, he wore only a pair of white shorts and was resting on a chaise longue in the sun. He did not get up to greet her, but put out his hand, capturing hers and holding it for a long time. “Hi, Elizabeth, you are living proof that little girls grow up in delightful ways. You’ve changed. For the better, I’d say.”
“You have, too,” she responded.
“In what way,” he asked.
“Better looking. More manly. I guess it was the war and the years. I hear you’re a big time naval hero.”
“Fuck!” he said. “I don’t care what you’ve heard. I won the war single-handedly. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.” The twinkle in his eyes revealed that he was satirizing his own exploits.
“And now, you’re a congressman!” she said.
“If Dad has anything to say about it, I’ll be sitting in the White House at least by 1964.”
“I hope you’ll issue me a presidential pardon,” she said.
“Not likely,” he smiled. “I’ll summon you to the White House for a command performance.”
At that point, Stack came out onto the patio calling them to lunch.
As they ate, JFK told Elizabeth and Stack that he’d flown to the West Coast to escape election debts and because he couldn’t attend any more chicken à la king dinners.
“And you’re out here to get your jollies!” Stack interjected.
“There’s nothing wrong with that!” JFK said. “Right, Elizabeth?”
Two views of Robert Stack
“There’s nothing wrong if you get them with me!” She shocked even herself at how forward she had become.
JFK laughed. “A promise I’ll make you keep.”
Even though they indulged in mostly small talk, there was sexual tension in the air. She would later confess to Roddy Mc-Dowall that she was waiting for one of them, especially JFK, to make the first move.
After lunch, he got up and pulled off his white shorts in front of them. He was completely casual about his nudity, as his future wife, Jackie Kennedy, would eventually claim.
“Let’s all go for a nude swim,” he proposed, jumping into the pool.
In front of her, Stack pulled off his shorts and jumped into the water to swim after JFK. As Elizabeth would later relay to Dick Hanley, “I knew it was show time, and I didn’t want to disappoint. I pulled off my dress, bra, and panties, and swam in after them.”
At that point, the screen goes black. She refused to relay any of the juicy details to Dick, even though he wanted a blow-by-blow description. “I can live vicariously, can’t I?”
All she’d confess to was a three-way. “It was my first such experience, but I don’t think it will be my last. Bob is the better lover, but Jack has more charm. All I’ll tell you is that he’s mainly concerned with getting himself off—and not the girl who’s lying under him. Bob has better staying power. Jack went first. But he shot off rather quickly. Would you believe that Bob and I were still going at it, and Jack was up beside the bed making a phone call? Then Bob and I finished the dirty deed.”
“Are you going to pursue Jack?” Dick asked, “or was that it?”
“No, I’ll keep after him,” she said. “Not so much because of his love-making, but because of his charm. He has this amazing ability to look at you while you’re talking and make you feel that you’re saying something so vital that the fate of the whole world depends on it.”
During an early-morning make-up session at MGM the following Monday, Elizabeth found herself seated once again side by side with Allyson.
In hushed tones, Allyson whispered to Elizabeth, “You would not believe what happened to me on Sunday. I went over to Bob Stack’s house to meet with Jack Kennedy. I found him swimming nude in the pool. Before the afternoon ended, Jack, Bob, and I piled into bed together for a three-way.”
“June Allyson, I’m shocked,” Elizabeth said. “I would never do anything like that… ever.”
“You’re such a puritan, girl,” Allyson said. “After a few more years in Hollywood, you’ll be ripe for the plucking.”
“Was that ‘plucking’ you said or something else?” Elizabeth facetiously asked.
***
For her next picture, a tedious romp entitled Julia Misbehaves (1948), Louis B. Mayer decided to team Elizabeth with Greer Garson and Walter Pidgeon, those fabled Mrs. Miniver stars of World War II. The popularity of Garson during the darkest years of World War II had transformed her into the unofficial “Queen of MGM.” But after the war, her popularity had waned, and Mayer was scheming to reinvent her as a screen comedienne, an unwise choice.
Afraid that Garson would steal the picture from her, Elizabeth quipped, “Greer seems to believe that actresses are ageless.” Even at the young age of sixteen, Elizabeth had already developed a sharp tongue. As director Jack Conway said, “She was so young, so beautiful, and couldn’t say three sentences without at least one curse word.”
Conway fascinated Elizabeth, as he was a walking textbook of the history of Hollywood, having started his career as an actor in 1909 in The Old Soldier’s Story. He had directed Clark Gable in films which included Boom Town (1941). Most recently, he’d directed Ava Gardner and Gable in The Hucksters (1947). That same year, he also partially directed Garson in one of her all-time disasters, Desire Me, yet nonetheless, he was chosen to helm her once again in this newest frothy film. Three other directors had shared in the debacle of Desire Me, including Victor Saville, Mervyn LeRoy, and George Cukor. “I hope I have better luck with Greer on this picture,” he told Elizabeth. “On Desire Me, during the filming o
f one scene, it took 125 takes for her to just say ‘no.’”
When Garson objected to foul language on the set, Elizabeth told her to “go fuck yourself.” But Garson was gracious in spite of the insult, even inviting Elizabeth to four o’clock tea. Elizabeth quickly warmed to the star. “Someday in the years to come, you’ll be in my same position, trying to hold onto a fading career while fighting wrinkles.”
Julia Misbehaves cast Elizabeth as Susan Packett, a rich girl who invites her estranged mother to her wedding, where the complications flow like a river. The young bride’s ultimate aim involves orchestrating a reconciliation of her long-divorced parents. Walter Pidgeon, Garson’s frequent co-star, was cast as Elizabeth’s father.
As Conway said about the ironies associated with his role in directing this film, “Mayer gave me three gay actors—Peter Lawford, Cesar Romero, and Walter Pidgeon.”
Other screen stalwarts in the film included veterans Mary Boland, Lucile Watson, and Nigel Bruce. Elizabeth told Conway, “The script parallels my own life. I brought Francis and Sara back together. I’d better qualify that. I mean, they now live once again under the same roof.”
Filming began in mid-January of 1948. Elizabeth was delighted to be working with twenty-five-year-old Peter Lawford again. She told Roddy, “I’m still mad about the boy.”
“I was, too,” Roddy told her, “until he dumped me.”
“To me, Peter is the first and last word in sophistication,” she said. “He’s princely and refined, the kind of man I’m going to marry. Sara wants me to marry him, but he hasn’t asked me yet.”
At afternoon tea, Elizabeth realized that Garson was a sympathetic soul. She poured out her romantic complications to her. “I fear both Pidgeon and Romero will also be trying to get into Peter’s trousers.”
“Don’t worry,” Garson said. “Peter can run faster than either of those men. I had the same problem with Laurence Olivier when we had an affair in London in the 1930s. I had to compete with Noël Coward and an array of other gentlemen for his affections.”
Bio - 199 - Elizabeth Taylor: There Is Nothing Like a Dame Page 17
