Voices Behind the Curtain

by Gordon Zuckerman

  “Wear green? I don’t even own a green tie. What the hell are you talking about?”

  “By the time I finish making restaurant and hotel reservations, you are going to need a lot of green!”

  CHAPTER 35

  An Alternate Approach

  NEW YORK, JULY 1949

  At precisely 9:00 a.m. on the day following the arrest of the two gunmen and their driver, the immaculately dressed dean of Wall Street corporate attorneys marched up to the desk of Mike Stone announcing he was there to see Mr. Stone.

  Noting the hard set of his jaw and the steely intensity of his penetrating blue eyes, the middle-aged woman hesitated before removing her finger from the intercom button. Rising from her chair, she retreated to Mike’s big wooden office door. After politely knocking on his door, out of force of habit, she entered his office, and in her shy way, she said, “Mr. McWilliams is waiting to see you. He looks mad, like bear with a hurt paw! Would you prefer I call security?”

  Before Mike could answer, he watched his door being pushed wide open and an agitated J. Jordan McWilliams came striding into his office. Mike stood up from his desk chair. Across the big desk, the two adversaries were silently sizing each other up. To Mike, the scene reminded him of his days as an amateur boxer, when the two opponents, from their respective corners, would size up each other before landing the first blow.

  Predictably, the excited lawyer threw the first punch when he asked, “What makes you think you can order me around? Why should I care about whatever you alleged to have happened in that Italian restaurant? I’ve never heard of it, been there, or know where it is! Unless you summoned me here to issue an apology and explain why you found it necessary to disturb me in the middle of the night, I am planning to leave!”

  “Apologize? Planning to leave? Are you out of your mind? I strongly suggest you sit down and become prepared to have a civil conversation. You should thank me for not exposing what we have learned about you and your pals thus far. By now, the feds are aware of your clumsy attempt to cause trouble in that small Harlem restaurant.

  “I’ve invited you here in the hope that we might find a way to help each other. You might be surprised to learn, my colleagues and I are not attempting to make judgments about the need for all the military procurement you are seeking. That is your right.

  “It’s the way you are going about it that has us concerned. Once you attempted to use your wealth and influence to circumvent well established congressional approval procedures, you threatened the very essence of our government’s authority. That is something we can’t allow to happen.

  “Let me be clear. It is not within our capacity to determine the worth or validity of any particular proposed new weapons program. We are, however, concerned that your group is undermining the deliberative process established to make certain the objective evaluations are not circumvented or compromised,” Mike said. “Why, when you could have asked your clients to contribute to the election funds of national political parties and political action committees, did you find it necessary to move offshore and create your own political war chest?”

  Jordan stared at Mike warily. After carefully considering his course of action, he said, “It’s not so complicated. For obvious reasons, my clients had independently determined it was economically necessary to bring forward the manufacturing of aircraft and weapons systems that would most likely be approved at some later date. By acting in concert, our clients became convinced they could exercise greater influence over the country and its government.”

  “Jordan, take a minute and consider what I have just said. No one is objecting about the restoration of military spending. Our bone of contention involves the methodology that you have chosen to pursue your objectives. By collaborating with one another and funding an offshore secret political war chest, your clients have not only broken a whole bunch of laws, but they have circumvented well established procedures which must be satisfied before the government is authorized to spend the public’s money.

  “Before things are allowed to get out of control, I am proposing your clients consider changing your methods of operation. Why shouldn’t they modify their approach to one of working above the table rather than beneath it?

  “Jordan, I want to make our position indelibly clear. Should I or any of my friends ever hear of a whisper, a hint, or even an unsubstantiated rumor of any further attempt on your part to pursue your agenda outside of prescribed channels, you can be assured the information we’ve collected will be immediately released to the press, to Congress, to the White House, to the SEC, and to the Justice Department. We will be prepared to let the chips fall as they may!”

  CHAPTER 36

  Mercedes Returns

  LONDON, ENGLAND, SEPTEMBER 1949

  Rarely did something happen that was of significance that didn’t become common knowledge in London’s small moviemaking village. Agreements between British studios and several high-profile Hollywood actors, writers, and directors had been consummated, filming was underway, and early praise was being regularly reported. Natalie’s Bridge was successfully launched, and its legitimacy established.

  Mercedes was no longer required to sell local filmmakers on the value of the service she and Natalie were attempting to provide. She was able to concentrate her energies on establishing a proper fit between employer and applicant and solving individual problems.

  As word of her success spread, interested employers began calling her. Sometimes, they expressed legitimate employment needs, and sometimes they wanted to use the excuse of employment needs to meet and spend time with the former Miss Universe. The experienced actress from Mexico City was able to quickly identify and politely separate herself from the predators and concentrate her attention on the more genuine people who were seriously in need of her casting services. She was becoming widely respected and appreciated. Word of her success and professionalism was spreading. Mercedes was regarded as a hardworking professional, dedicated to helping London’s filmmaking industry to improve the quality of its pictures and its revenues. Regardless of the nature of her invitation, Mercedes quickly realized she was expected to dress and play the role of a former Miss-Universe-turned-serious-working-professional. With each passing week, she was finding her need for a greater variety of clothing was rapidly expanding. She was having to spend more time shopping for dresses, shoes, belts, jewelry, sweaters, and coats. The arrangement of her hair and the application of makeup required more time. Responding to the growing number of inquiries demanded more time. Retaining sufficient time to meet with clients, to greet and organize the introduction of qualified candidates, and to remain available to solve problems was becoming an issue.

  Within a month, Mercedes required the services of a personal assistant, a driver, and a secretary. The one-woman band Natalie had left in London had become a small, well coordinated, highly professional team.

  The triweekly trips to the United States never happened. When Don offered to fly over to London for a long weekend, Mercedes could never fit a visit into her schedule. The time came and went for her to complete and submit her application to law school and take her entrance examinations. She rarely had time to think about what might be happening to her relationship with Don or her dream to attend law school. She was just too busy.

  By early September, in Europe, the Hollywood Blacklist barricade had been breached. London filmmakers were gradually beginning to employ Hollywood actors, writers, and directors.

  Mercedes, from her ringside seat, knew the lost Hollywood revenues would place growing pressure on the studios to make new movies and re-employ many of the same people she was securing work for in London. Rather than becoming threatened with the someday termination of the Hollywood’s blacklisting, she could foresee the day when the competitive interest of moviemakers in international markets would increase the value of her clients. There were times, at night, when she was waiting for sleep when she would think about her playing an important role in the emerging casting pro
fession. As effective as I seem to have become in fitting the needs of the moviemaker with the skills of movie personnel, I need to recognize how many of the problem-solving demands require assistance from a legally qualified expert. Is the time approaching when I need to return to Washington, attend law school, and pay more attention to Don?

  When she booked a cabin on the USS Constitution for the Atlantic crossing, Mercedes was hoping to have the quiet time she needed to reflect upon all the different experiences she had enjoyed during the 4 months since she had left Los Angeles. She needed quiet time to arrange all her notes, her correspondence, and her growing volume of files. These are things I need to complete before the distractions of Don and law school enter the picture.

  * * *

  FOR WEEKS, PRIOR TO HER DEPARTURE, RUMORS ABOUT MERCEDES’S return to the United States and law school had been flying around her insular village. The questions from her friends, her acquaintances, and people with whom she had worked, and the people who looked forward to working with her, were endless. Would she still be available if they had problems? What type of law was she planning to study? What were her plans after law school? Was there a man in her life? Would she ever return to acting?

  * * *

  BY THE SECOND DAY FOLLOWING THE OCEAN LINER’S DEPARTURE from South Hampton, Mercedes learned she had booked passage on the one ship members of the London and Southern California’s motion picture industry habitually used to cross and recross the Atlantic Ocean.

  * * *

  BY THIS TIME, MERCEDES HAD BECOME A RISING CELEBRITY, WELL recognized for her work to bridge the two entertainment industries together. Any hope that she might have harbored in spending quiet time alone was quickly interrupted. The attention of successful casting agents was always coveted by almost everybody involved in the making of a movie. Invitations for an early stroll around the deck, a late breakfast, a cocktail before lunch, lunch, another afternoon stroll around the deck, a cocktail before dinner, dinner, or an after-dinner drink were constantly being delivered by the ship’s purser.

  Not wishing to appear impolite or uninterested, Mercedes accepted as many of the invitations as her time would allow. For the next 5 days, she was busy meeting with clients or prospective clients and then using the late-night hours to carefully catalogue the results of each encounter and systematically store them in her growing volume of files.

  On the morning of her last day on board, while the other passengers were standing on deck admiring the approaching New York skyline, the Statue of Liberty, and all the other ships that were arriving and departing New York’s harbor, Mercedes was below deck feverishly packing her extensive wardrobe into a very large steamer trunk, her jewelry into a small suitcase, and her cosmetics into a third bag, and making sure all her records were properly filed in her traveling file cabinet.

  Knowing Don would be waiting, she wanted to look her best. More time was required to dress, put on her makeup, and arrange her hair. By the time she made arrangements for her luggage to be taken ashore, she was among the last of the passengers to appear on deck. They were anxiously trying to spot the people whom they were expecting to greet them upon their arrival.

  The dock was crowded with people anxiously waiting for their friends, their loved ones, or to see any celebrities who might be disembarking. They were busy trying to identify their arriving friends among those who were standing next to the rail. The ship had docked, and passengers were already disembarking.

  A group of reporters had crowded in front of Don, making it difficult for Mercedes to spot him. His waving finally attracted her attention. When she smiled and waved back, he knew she had spotted him.

  The line was moving slowly. Gradually, she made her way to the gangway. Wanting to appear as attractive as possible for Don, Mercedes had selected her favorite Paris-designed business suit, a high-collared silk blouse, and some of her highest heeled shoes. She had paid particular attention to how she applied her makeup and arranged her hair.

  As she slowly moved to the entrance of the gangway, she noticed how precarious her descent might become. The downward angle, the jostling of the crowd, and the separation between the planked surfaces of the decking could cause trouble for the thin pedestals of her 3-inch high heels. Wanting to avoid the possibility of last-minute embarrassment, she gradually inched her way over to one side of the wide gangway, where she could hold onto the rail and remove herself from crowded congestion as she carefully managed her way down the far side opposite from where Don and a group of reporters were anxiously waiting.

  They were less than 20 feet apart before it became evident that the group of reporters standing in front of Don were waiting to interview her! Unbeknownst to her, infringement on civil rights had become big news. Walt Matthews had been faithfully reporting news of her European employment progress in the New York Times and its 32 syndicated newspapers. Whenever another member of Hollywood’s blacklisted filmmakers was employed in London, a running total would prominently be displayed in Walt’s daily column.

  The public, aware of the civil rights abuses that were disturbing the lives of so many of its citizens, was becoming excited by how the brave efforts of two women could make such a difference. Walt’s readers had begun to keep score the same way they followed baseball players’ batting averages. If the papers weren’t reporting Mercedes’s latest employment success, they were describing Gloria’s one-woman town meetings.

  Before she could finish stepping from the gangway onto the dock, the first reporter asked, “Miss Velasquez, given your success, how long do you estimate it will take before Hollywood is forced to abandon its ‘Blacklisting’ policy?”

  Frustrated by the unexpected interruption, Mercedes took time considering her answer. Having made up her mind, she replied, “Unfortunately, the people who have benefited from Miss Cummins and my work represent a very small proportion of the people whose lives are being adversely affected by the trespassing on personal liberties we have allowed to take place.”

  Another reporter asked, “What will happen to your efforts you and Miss Cummins have been working so hard to accomplish when Hollywood decides to terminate blacklisting?”

  Mercedes looked at the reporter. She recognized him to be one of those who had enjoyed making life so uncomfortable for the Hollywood witnesses required to appear before the congressional hearings. Aware of his vicious attacks, she said, “I am very pleased you asked me that particular question. Has anyone stopped to consider what the eventual effect of talent moviemaking personalities will have achieved when the market for their services has been expanded beyond Hollywood? I’m sure you understand, and Hollywood executives are about to learn when the agents of these talented people develop competitive bidding for their clients’ services.”

  Standing unnoticed on the outer periphery of the crowd of reporters, Walt Matthews raised his hand. Recognizing her old friend, Mercedes pointed toward him signifying for him to ask his question.

  “Miss Velasquez, what are your future plans?”

  Smiling at Walt, Mercedes said, “I hope to be able to continue to develop my craft as an international casting agent. My only problem is I have learned that I need to develop legal skills and experience before I can hope to service a more complete range of client needs. Right now, I hope to qualify for admittance to a leading law school.”

  After pausing to look directly toward Don, she said, “And, there is one more thing I hope to add to my list. There is a certain man in my life who deserves my overdue attention. Now, if you will excuse me, I think the time has arrived for me to start my new life.”

  CHAPTER 37

  A New, Clear Voice

  LONDON AND NEW ENGLAND, SUMMER 1949

  For years, Gloria had been accustomed to being passed over for movie roles on account of her age. Despite all the compliments she had been recently receiving, she still assumed her acting days were long past. Now, the “Heroine of Hollywood” was overjoyed to have the opportunity to audition for new roles for film
s that were already in production in England. At the same time, she realized she was not being invited to play supporting roles for her acting abilities. The producers were interested in taking advantage of her current publicity value and its ability to improve revenues at the box office.

  Fortunately for Gloria, the same British film producers who had issued her their earlier invitations were in attendance at Sir Colin’s reception. They had been able to see, firsthand, the inspirational, highly poised, and the charismatic way she had developed for introducing a very serious problem.

  In recent years, a limited number of British film distributors had found a promising market in American boutique theaters located in the East Coast college towns and cities. The small theaters were locally owned and operated well beyond the influence of the Hollywood studio system and the network of theaters dependent upon its production.

  * * *

  WHEN GLORIA APPEARED FOR HER AUDITION, SHE ARRIVED ON TIME and well prepared. The directors were even more pleased with her consummate on-set professionalism and her ability to provide more than one interpretation for each character. One director, upon seeing Gloria’s film tests, became so impressed with her performance, he decided to include her in the film he had recently finished shooting. New scripts were prepared. The cast was recalled, and the new scenes incorporating Gloria’s performances were spliced into the recut master.

  Distribution of the film was delayed, movie houses were required to reshuffle their schedules, the replaced actress was upset, the studio had to reschedule use of its sound stage, and the film was going to come in over budget. When people complained to the director, the only response they would receive was his knowing smile.

  By the end of summer, arrangements were made to premiere the recut movie at Covent Garden, home of the Royal Ballet, and long appreciated for its extraordinary acoustics. News of the unusual event began to permeate through London’s entertainment community. Budgets for advanced promotion of the film were doubled, and then doubled again. Enthusiastic movie fans were beginning to submit requests for reserved seating.