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Voices Behind the Curtain

Page 13

by Gordon Zuckerman


  * * *

  NATALIE IMMEDIATELY ARRANGED TO MEET THE FAST-RISING, MUCH- celebrated “Heroine of Hollywood” at their favorite tavern. After waiting for her eyes to adjust from the bright sunlight to the darker atmosphere of the small neighborhood tavern, Natalie was relieved to see Gloria sitting in their favorite booth.

  “Wonderful to see you, Gloria!” said Natalie. The two women hugged in greeting. “It’s been too long. Things are becoming so complicated, you’ll have to excuse my not calling sooner!”

  “Oh, with all the work you’re doing with Natalie’s Bridge, I’m not surprised. To what do I owe the honor of your call?”

  “At our meeting in New York, the Sentinels decided to initiate the next element of their plan. Have you ever heard of a Mexico City movie producer named Manuel Arena? He and his files represent their next target. Mike Stone is in possession of information derived from two separate sources which indicates Señor Arena manages a Mexican financial war chest that provides the funds these military industrialists are using to finance their plan to accelerate the rearming of America. Some of those funds were used to finance the political campaigns of some of your old friends who are currently serving on the HUAC.

  “We believe Arena has detailed records and a substantial amount of money stored in a private safe. If we can find some way of getting into his safe and obtaining possession of his files, Mike is convinced we might be able to prevent this secretive plan to escalate American defense spending.”

  “What does all this have to do with me? I would have thought after all that I have already done to help you, your need for any further assistance would have evaporated.”

  “Gloria, we are hoping you might help us by finding some way we can learn more about this mysterious figure.”

  “I am familiar with him, but in name only,” Gloria said quickly. “I never met him, but I’m familiar with his reputation. Let’s just say, he’s not known for the quality of his studio’s work.” After a few beats of silence and another healthy sip of wine, Gloria laughed. “This sounds like a movie script! American industrialist conspiracies, records, and money hidden in Mexican safes . . . I realize, of course, you are being quite serious. What you have just described could be the plot for some new movie. Why don’t you give me a few days to think about it? I’ve met so many people over the years I wouldn’t be surprised if I know someone, or someone who knows someone, who knows all about your ‘Mexican Moviemaker.’ As soon as I come up with something, I’ll contact you, either here or at your home up in Berkeley.”

  * * *

  WITHIN A WEEK FOLLOWING HER RETURN TO HER HOME IN BERKELEY, Natalie received a note from Gloria. It read: I think I’ve found the person you’re seeking. Mercedes is a former tenant and dear friend who suddenly appeared on my doorstep a few days ago, needing a place to stay. She is an aspiring actress who was scheduled to play a leading role in one of Arena’s next movies. Something must have really gone wrong. Overnight, she abandoned her role and suddenly returned to Los Angeles. All I know is that she was under contract to Arena Studios and refuses to discuss what happened. The only thing she would tell me is she is deeply disappointed in herself and would like to get even with Señor Arena.

  After I explained your situation, she has consented to talk you. Why don’t you call me, and I will set up a meeting where we can meet in the privacy of my home in Brentwood.

  Obviously pleased with Gloria’s timely response, Natalie phoned her and made arrangements to take the first available train back to Los Angeles. Refreshed by a good night’s sleep on the gently swaying motion of her drawing room bunk, an excited Natalie disembarked in the Los Angeles Union Train Station, then walked down the long platform to the main depot. Without stopping, she made her way to the place where available taxicabs would be waiting.

  Within 30 minutes, she emerged from the cab, paid the driver, and immediately made her way up the small hedge-lined entryway to a very charming, older, but immaculately maintained, white-plaster, blue-shuttered, red-tiled roof Southern California home. It was typical of others homes she had noticed in the immediate neighborhood that were long preferred by former and retired members of Hollywood’s theatrical community.

  The minute Natalie entered Gloria’s living room, her attention was drawn to one of the most beautiful Hispanic women she had ever seen. When she rose from the couch, Natalie became even more aware of the woman’s height, full figure, and remarkable facial beauty. As she moved across the room in her graceful feline way, Natalie instantly became aware of the sensuous aura she radiated. Even before they were introduced, the veteran musical actress couldn’t help but wonder, If her presence produces that kind of effect on me, another woman, I can only imagine what kind of affect she must have on men!

  Gloria, pleased to make the introductions, said, “Mercedes, I would like you to meet a very special friend of mine. Ms. Natalie Cummins is the woman I’ve been telling you about. It would be difficult to name anyone else who is trying any harder to slow down anti-Communist tyranny we are being forced to endure here in Hollywood! Working in Mexico may have its problems, but you have to believe me when I say, they pale by comparison to what is taking place in Hollywood!”

  “Natalie,” Gloria continued, “I would like you to meet a friend of mine, Ms. Mercedes Velasquez. You may recognize her—she is the former Miss Universe, from Toledo, Spain. She has just returned from Mexico. I think you will be very interested to hear what she has to say about Señor Manuel Arena.”

  Rather than move forward to shake hands or embrace, they stood motionless, studying each other. Any awkwardness that may have existed dissolved when, with a nervous Gloria’s urging, they stepped forward and shook hands.

  After gesturing to them to sit on the couch and chairs surrounding her coffee table, Gloria started the conversation. “Natalie, let me first explain how Mercedes and I became friends. Prior to her moving to Mexico City, she needed a place to live, and I needed a renter. Living under the same roof, it didn’t take long for Mercedes and me to become good friends. She had seen some of my old movies and was constantly asking me questions about my early career. Naturally, I was interested to learn how a doctor’s daughter from Toledo became Miss Universe, a successful model, and an aspiring movie actress. We have spent many a night talking. She was anxious to learn everything she could about the circumstances that allowed me to make my way from performing in the background as a member of song-and-dance corps to being considered for female lead roles.

  “Although she never was willing to share some of the not-so-pretty details of what she has been forced to endure, I couldn’t help but sense she is being challenged by many of the same problems you and I were forced to overcome.”

  Nervous about the direction of the previous comments, Mercedes interrupted. “Miss Cummins, before Gloria goes any further, I’d like to share a few things you need to understand about me. The rest of my story is not very pretty, but it’s not the entire story. I don’t know what disturbs me more—my naiveté or my current embarrassment over some of the things I’ve done. I’m still having a difficult time understanding how a serious, hardworking premed student and devout Catholic girl from Toledo, Spain, can end up an unsuccessful actress and seriously compromised woman!”

  Not quite certain how to explain, Mercedes paused before deciding to begin by describing her early life. “I was no particular beauty as a young girl; I was gangly, tall, and shapeless. The relatively innocent and traditional life of a proper daughter of two hardworking Spanish doctors was suddenly interrupted when Spain’s Fascist national forces bombed the hospital where my parents were working and where they were killed. Homeless, with no money, like so many others, I was forced to survive in the streets of a wartorn city.

  “Fortunately, my grandparents found me and took me into their home in Madrid. Old-fashioned, strict, and devout Catholics, I was expected to earn my keep by performing what I considered, an excessive amount of daily household chores, attend school, attend chur
ch, and use any available time for studying. I had no personal life.

  “About the time I turned 17, I started to mature. The boys at school were beginning to take notice. Older men were offering me gifts. I found myself starting to pay more attention to how I dressed, how I applied my makeup, and how I did my hair.

  “One day, more as a joke than anything else, I let my girlfriends talk me into entering the Miss Madrid beauty contest. Thinking back, I must have considered the possibility of successfully competing in beauty contests might represent a possible route out of the life I was being forced to endure. One thing led to another, and before I knew it, I had won the title of Miss Spain and was on my way to the United States to compete in the Miss Universe contest.

  “For the first time in my life, I was allowed to live the role of the playful, young woman who had remained so deeply buried inside me. Just after I was crowned, I received a modeling contract from I. Magnin’s in Los Angeles. I was expected to travel to each of their big-city stores, model their new high- fashion lines, and make myself available to their more important customers, friends of the owners, and managers of their smaller affiliated department stores. The job paid well, the work was easy, and I was having fun for the first time in my life.”

  * * *

  NATALIE WAS HAVING NO DIFFICULTY RELATING TO THE WOMAN’S story. It wasn’t much different from what she had experienced when she escaped the family farm in Sussex and made her way to London. Any young, attractive, and generously endowed woman was required to immediately differentiate between sincere offers of assistance and those associated with notso- cleverly-hidden agendas of conquest. Raised on a farm with three older brothers and strict but loving parents, she was totally unprepared for the predatory practices she had been forced to encounter.

  If a woman expected to survive with her dignity intact, she needed to quickly learn how to protect herself. Forever etched in her mind was how the thrill of her first invitation to audition for a supporting role in a new show had turned into a clumsy attempt to first bed her as part of the “qualification” process.

  With her savings running low and the diminishing probability of the prospects of auditioning for a legitimate role that would present itself in time, the resourceful, prideful, and stubborn farm girl from Sussex began to look for part-time work.

  It took a while but she learned how to schedule three part-time jobs to earn enough money to cover her meager living expenses and have enough time and money to pay for acting, singing, and dancing lessons.

  In London’s theatrical district, auditions were scheduled in the late mornings and rehearsals in the afternoons. A quick learner, Natalie scheduled her dog-walking duties in the early morning and late afternoons. Her food and beverage waitstaff jobs were scheduled for the dinner trade. And, by ten o’clock, she was always present to drive the unpopular graveyard shift for one of the local taxi companies.

  “Had I stopped to think about what was happening, I might have realized, low on money, I was trying to generate a sufficient income to provide me with the staying power to survive and chase my dreams in the theater.”

  After pausing to make sure the wounded woman had understood she was offering constructive advice, not criticism, Natalie continued. “Then there was the second problem.

  “Watching my new friends progress through the labyrinth required of aspiring actors, it became obvious to me that being cast in a role that properly showcased your special talent made any real progress even more difficult.”

  Natalie’s last comments really hit home. Mercedes immediately started to think, If I had placed more emphasis on my modeling career, I might have been able to create the kind of independence and objectivity Natalie is talking about. Hopefully, it’s not too late to learn from my mistakes.

  Natalie, feeling the growing spirit of camaraderie developing between them, continued to explain. “Mercedes, I’ve been out of show business for more than 2 years, but I can tell you being cast in leading roles didn’t solve my problem. In some ways, it made it worse. Becoming a recognized star makes you an ever more highly treasured target of conquest. I still have nightmares about being the object of trophy-hunting males, men who regarded me as some kind of trophy to be shown off in public and pummeled in private.

  “For someone who regarded the learning of her craft as a serious matter requiring long periods of study and hard work, I was always conscious of how hard I worked to absorb and portray the scripts, the choreography, and the musical scores. As an actress, I am sure you understand how important audiences’ reactions to your performance become. No matter how many years, how many performances, every night felt like opening night. Recognition of my efforts has always been a source of personal pride and probably my Achilles’ heel.

  “Not to be taken seriously, when it came to discussions or considerations of important matters outside the theater, was always a painful experience. It seemed the more successful I became on the stage, the less interested people became to learn about the person behind the mask.”

  Mercedes, no longer intimidated by the natural and friendly and famous actress, began to think, Is it possible this woman really cares about me? At last, there is someone who understands my problem, someone whom I can trust! Whatever they have planned for me, I hope, by helping them, I will be able to work on my own problem.

  * * *

  GLORIA DECIDED IT WAS TIME TO BREAK INTO THE CONVERSATION. “I’ve made reservations at a nearby French restaurant. Maybe you have heard of it, Le Centrale, it’s a locals’ favorite French restaurant. Don Cerreta has agreed to meet us there. He is the federal prosecutor who orchestrated my legal defense at the congressional hearing. He has developed some new ideas for preventing these industrialists from executing their plan and has expressed his interest in discussing them with you. Apparently, your association with Señor Arena represents an important part of his plan. Why don’t we find out what Don has on his mind?”

  CHAPTER 21

  New News

  NEW YORK, MARCH 1949

  Following a quick rap on the door, Mike Stone was excited to see Marco Tancredi and Armando Camarillo. After closing the file he had been reading, he motioned to his secretary to usher the two men into his office. Within seconds, she was back, followed by the streetwise executive and his Cuban partner.

  “Marco, to what do I owe this pleasant surprise?”

  Familiar with Mike’s preference to come right to the point, Marco said, “Armando has continued to analyze more of the notes his people have been collecting. Yesterday, he brought me some new notes that appear to contain some very interesting new information. Armando, why don’t you explain what you think you might have discovered.”

  The younger man spread a rolled-up sheet of paper across Mike’s immaculate desk. Affixed to the paper organized in a gridlike pattern were more than a dozen of the executive’s discarded notes.

  “It’s actually several new developments,” said Armando. “First, it looks like McWilliams and company are planning to shut down their Mexican operation. They have concluded if someone is prepared to go to all the trouble and expense required to prepare the brief Don Cerreta presented in that hearing, they need to concern themselves about the risk of discovery.

  “According to these notes, I think we have to assume they have decided to pursue a different plan.

  “Knowing someone is aware of their plan and is committed to opposing their efforts, you and Miss Cummins were spotted leaving the congressional hearing room. Knowing your association with the Sentinels, they suspect you and the others might be involved. Apparently, at least three of the lawyers are aware of the Sentinels and their efforts to solve other problems. Mr. McWilliams has been authorized to hire some kind of a special security company to identify who is attempting to oppose them and eliminate their source of resistance.”

  Leaning back in his big chair, Mike said, “They picked up our scent faster than I expected. The original Six Sentinels are no strangers to private security compani
es. They know where to find us. We need to alert the others. In the meantime, we need to start thinking about developing our own source of protection. Asking the White House for assistance from the Secret Service may not be an option. Until we know, for certain, how deep the military-industrial influence has penetrated into the government, I suggest we consider other alternatives.”

  Responding to the question, Marco piped up, “I don’t know anything about the Secret Service or other governmental law enforcement agencies, but there have been times when I felt it was important that I develop my own means of protection. From time to time, some of my ‘old neighborhood friends’ have been very helpful. How would you feel if I were to explain our situation and determine if they would be willing to provide us with the protection we may need?”

  Astonishment would be the word that best described Mike’s reaction. Proceeding cautiously, Marco said, “Mr. Stone, before you say no, let me explain. If, for a moment, you could disregard the unsavory nature of how some of my friends have chosen to earn a living, you might appreciate the fact they think of themselves as proud and loyal Americans, just as devoted to preserving their way of life as we are! Believe me when I say, I seriously believe how upset they will become when they learn a coalition of corporate executives is abusing the privilege of ‘Democratic Free Enterprise’ in their pursuit of selfserving agendas. Why should they regard those efforts any different than what occurs in their ‘street world’ when someone else is attempting to trespass on their territory?

  “As Don may have told you, in the past, when I found it necessary to approach the people who are responsible for controlling possible conflicts between members of connected families, I have found it necessary to approach them, explain my particular situation, and seek their understanding and cooperation. On occasion, I have been pleasantly surprised by their response. They may be guilty of adhering to a strange code of justice, but it has been my experience they are smart businessmen and don’t have a lot of tolerance for situations that conflict with their best interests or those whom they care about. If you knew where to check, I think you would be impressed by some of the things they helped arrange in Italy during the last war. I have been told about their efforts to help the OSS establish the cooperation of the Italian underground resistance. Your friend Mary Wheeler Clarke will explain their role in negotiating the Italian surrender and their effort to broker a deal with the German generals had their assassination attempt on Hitler not failed. With your permission, I would like to explain our situation to my friends. When they understand how these corporations are attempting to compromise the authority of our government, it is possible that they may feel as threatened as we do. Should that be the case, they could become very motivated to help us.”

 

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