Daniel Klein
Page 23
Delores was going to wait for Regis to get out of the hospital, and then the two of them would fly to Santa Teresa together, Regis to remain there. He was thinking of studying up on Mexican patent law so he could patent the discoveries that Hector and Delores were making in their laboratory. Regis and Delores planned to get married down there as soon as possible and hoped that Elvis would come for the ceremony. “No excuses,” Regis had said, managing a smile. “After all, you’ve got a fresh passport.”
Delores had accompanied Elvis out to the hospital corridor. There, she had suddenly presented him with a record album, the Spanish one he’d seen in El Disco Norde’s window entitled, Rubias, Morenas Y Pelirrojas. Delores wanted him to autograph it for her mother. Elvis obliged, writing to Senora Suarez that her daughter was going to make his friend, Regis, one fine wife. Handing the album back, Elvis confessed that he didn’t really know what “Rubias, Morenas Y Pelirrojas” meant.
Delores had laughed. “It means, ‘Blondes, Brunettes, and Redheads,’” she said.
Elvis looked at her quizzically.
“It’s the name we gave to your movie, It Happened at the World’s Fair,” she said.
Maybe once in a while, a title gained something in translation. There was only one decent song in World’s Fair that Elvis could remember, the one called “Happy Ending.”
The kettle was boiling. Elvis made himself a mug of Maxwell House instant, ladling in four spoonfuls of sugar, and then sat down at the kitchen table. Yesterday’s Los Angeles Times still lay there with Mike Murphy’s front-page article as the second lead. This was the article that had found its way into the International Herald Tribune, along with hundreds of other newspapers across the country. It picked up where Murphy’s scoop in the afternoon edition had left off, with the story of Justice LeRoy Clifford’s suicide. Elvis glanced down at it.
Judge’s Suicide Linked to Murder Cover-Up
Studio Head and Stuntman Incriminated
Studio City, Nov. 21. When State Supreme Court Justice LeRoy Clifford took his own life at his estate yesterday, he not only left behind a tangled web of love, betrayal, and murder, but a cover-up of that murder which involved Miss Maryjane Aronson, CEO of the newly incorporated, Timeless Films, and Mr. Michael Grieves, a former MGM stuntman who coincidently died in a freak accident on the MGM lot on Tuesday … .
Murphy had gathered the material for this follow-up story yesterday after dropping Elvis off at his house on Perugia Way. From Elvis’s, Murphy had driven directly to the makeshift offices of Timeless Films in Studio City where he found the fledgling studio’s CEO still enthroned on her open bronze safe swaddled in duct tape, wild eyed and reeking of fear and bodily fluids. Murphy had struck a deal with her: Tell all and I will set you free. Murphy had unwound the tape to Maryjane Aronson’s neck, leaving the rest of her bound like a mummy as he sat down in front of her with his open notebook.
According to the Times’ anonymous source, after Judge Clifford left the murder victim on the evening of March 20, 1960, he went directly to the office of Miss Aronson in the project development department of MGM. At this time, Clifford was still wearing the World War One army uniform that Aronson had procured for him from the studio wardrobe for his assignations with Miss McDougal. The outfit served as a disguise for Clifford; he always looked like just another extra on the studio lot, a gas mask completing his camouflage … .
Elvis realized that it must have been the same outfit LeRoy wore when he had threatened Connie Spinelli.
Miss Aronson waited until Judge Clifford had sufficient time to get home, then anonymously phoned the police, claiming that she had witnessed the stuntman, Fredrick Littlejon, leaving the scene of the crime … .
According to Aronson, it was just the luck of the draw that LeRoy had been selected by the chief DA to prosecute the case. Similarly, it had been only happenchance that Mickey Grieves recommended Regis as Littlejon’s lawyer; Grieves had heard through the grapevine that Regis had a reputation for losing a high percentage of his cases.
As to Grieves’s own role in the cover-up, from his lying testimony to his threat on Elvis to his cleverly contrived murder of Will Cathcart, Maryjane Aronson said that it was motivated by nothing less pathetic and banal than Aronson’s promise to upgrade him from stuntman to speaking parts in Timeless Films’s motion pictures. Like everyone else, Mickey Grieves had dreamed of making it big in Hollywood.
The other stuntmen who testified that they had never had sex with Holly McDougal were simply protecting themselves from recriminations by their wives and girlfriends. Grieves had convinced them that Squirm was unquestionably the murderer and that they had nothing to gain by sullying their own good names. This, it seems, was the insignificant piece of information that Will Cathcart had heard from his colleagues and that had ultimately cost him his life.
Finally, it turned out that Supreme Court Justice Clifford had not confessed the entire truth to his brother. Holly McDougal may have been the only woman in Aronson’s stable of call girls who he ever loved, but not the only one he’d ever slept with. Judge LeRoy had been a steady customer of Aronson’s for years, which accounted for his long-standing position as the behind-the-scenes financial consultant and deal-maker for Aronson’s film ambitions.
At the time of Clifford’s suicide, Maryjane Aronson was president and chief executive officer of a new studio, Timeless Films, Inc., whose first film, a remake of Rebel Without a Cause, was expected to lens early next year. Judge Clifford was a silent partner with twenty-five percent equity in Timeless.
After Mike Murphy had taken down every word, he had left Maryjane Aronson bound and perched on the safe while he phoned Elvis. He told Elvis the whole story, then asked if he actually should let her go.
“Your call, Elvis,” Murphy had said.
Elvis had not answered for several minutes. LeRoy Clifford was dead, Mickey Grieves also, both of their debts to society paid up in full, if such a transaction was actually possible. Squirm Littlejon was exonerated and free, which is really all Elvis had wanted in the first place.
But there was something else to consider: Murphy had made no mention of Aronson’s blackmail photographs of Elvis and Ann-Margret. Apparently, she had said nothing about them. At this point, it was the only secret left unexposed.
“Let her go,” Elvis had said.
Maryjane Aronson was on a plane for foreign parts unknown by the time Murphy’s story hit the newsstands in that evening’s Times.
Elvis took his coffee out onto the patio and was slowly sipping it when the phone rang again. It was the Colonel.
“Pick you up for the press conference in half an hour,” Parker said.
“I’ll be ready,” Elvis answered. There wasn’t really much to say to the press now that Murphy’s story was out, but Parker had convinced Elvis that it would be a good idea to make a public appearance after all the rumors that had been circulating about him this past week. “Just to reassure your fans,” Parker had said.
“Listen, I’ve got a little surprise cooked up for our pals in the press corps,” Parker was now saying excitedly. “Our new picture. Allied Artists. Seven hundred and fifty thousand up front and fifty percent of profits. Incredible deal, Elvis. Unheard of. Nobody makes deals like I do.”
“What kind of picture, Tom?”
“Wonderful script, son. You’re going to love it,” Parker said. “Listen to this: it’s called Tickle Me. And it’s got ‘Elvis’ written all over it.”
Elvis flinched, but at this moment he was too weary to argue about anything. He went back upstairs, dressed for the press conference, came back down again, and then stood motionlessly at the front window, gazing out at the palm-lined avenue. It looked so peaceful out there, peaceful and domestic. It made Elvis long for home, his real home. Elvis hadn’t spoken to Priscilla since she’d returned to Graceland. She had phoned several times this past week, Joanie had told him. He really ought to call her. Maybe after the press conference, call her up and tell her he was
coming right home.
Suddenly, a bright-yellow Oldsmobile convertible came into view and lurched to a stop in front of his house. A young woman jumped out of the car and came running toward his front door, her flaming red hair streaming behind her. It was Ann-Margret and she was bawling. Man, he was definitely not in the mood for a hysterical woman just now. He reluctantly opened the door and looked at her. Golly, Miss Ann surely was one fine-looking woman.
“He’s dead!” she cried.
“What?” Elvis’s heart accelerated. “Who’s dead now?”
“The President,” Miss Ann moaned. “He’s been shot. In Dallas.”
“President Kennedy?”
“Yes!”
“Oh Lord! Who did it?”
“They don’t know,” Ann-Margret sobbed. “They don’t know.”
Elvis threw his arm around her and guided her to a sofa. He turned on the television set and sat down beside her, trembling himself now, tears flooding from his eyes. Behind them, the phone began ringing. Elvis reached into his pocket for his bottle of painkillers.
Also by Daniel Klein
Kill Me Tender
A Murder Mystery Featuring Elvis Presley
“Where’s Elvis?”
(with Hans Teesma)
Beauty Sleep
Embryo
Wavelengths
Magic Time
This is a work of fiction. The incidents portrayed and the dialogue are all fictitious. All of the characters are either fictitious or have been used fictitiously. This book has not been authorized or endorsed by the estate of Elvis Presley, or by any other person who may appear in the book. or by the estate of any such person.
BLUE SUEDE CLUES. Copyright © 2002 by Daniel Klein. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
THERE WILL BE PEACE IN THE VALLEY FOR ME, by Thomas A. Dorsey © 1939 (Renewed) Warner-Tamerlane Publishing Corp. All rights reserved. Used by permission Warner Bros. Publications U.S., Miami, FL. 33014
www.minotaurbooks.com
eISBN 9781429976367
First eBook Edition : March 2011
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Klein, Daniel M.
Blue suede clues: a murder mystery featuring Elvis Presley / Daniel Klein.
p. cm.
ISBN 0-312-26249-3
1. Presley, Elvis, 1935–1977—Fiction. 2. Hollywood (Los Angeles, Calif.)—Fiction. 3. Rock musicians—Fiction. I. Title
PS3561.L344 B58 2002
813’.54—dc21
200148882
First Edition: March 2002