Chambers laughed and coughed at the same time. He flinched and held his side. “I just got here, Forrester and I’m not leaving.”
Scott wanted to punch the jerk. “You are leaving. You have a film to finish. Two scenes, Chambers. Then you’re done.”
“Get out of my face,” roared Chambers as he pushed Scott away from him. Since Maggie had been holding onto Scott’s arm, the push shoved her back into a group of gamblers. Men hollered and women screamed. She fell to the floor and scrambled out of the way.
“Maggie!” Scott yelled. He leaned over and tried to find her among the many legs in his way. He saw her crawling toward the bar.
Just as he reached down to help her to her feet a loud crash came from the front room. Cops poured in through the door yelling, “You’re all under arrest!”
Men and women pushed and shoved to get out of the building before being caught. Guns were fired into the air. In the rush and panic Scott saw a man pull out a switchblade and lunge toward Carey Chambers.
Scott had no time to think. He prayed Maggie made it safely to the cover of the bar, twisted around and pulled the attacker’s arm back before he could plunge it into Carey Chambers.
The man roared. “You son-of-a-bitch! Let go of me.”
Scott forced the man’s arm back over his shoulder. “Drop the knife.”
“Not until I get my money.”
“You kill Chambers and you get nothing.” Scott panted with the effort to control the attacker. He pulled back harder on the man’s arm. The man squealed and dropped the knife. Scott let up on the attacker’s arm then dropped to the floor to retrieve the weapon.
With a yell the man jumped on Scott’s back and began to pound him around his head. Scott dropped the knife he’d just picked up and twisted to loosen the man from his back. Fists were hitting him in his temples and the room grew dimmer. With his last effort Scott lurched upward throwing the man off his back.
By now the room had cleared of everyone but the police. They hauled Scott and his attacker apart and put them in cuffs.
“Wait, Officer! I didn’t start this fight,” Scott said.
“Doesn’t matter, Bub,” the officer replied. “You’re under arrest for drinking illegal liquor, frequenting a speakeasy and fraternizing with ladies of the night.”
Maggie huddled behind the bar and held her breath. She didn’t move for fear that she’d be found and arrested. But she heard Scott’s grunts and groans, the thuds and thumps of fists connecting with flesh and winced every time she heard him say something. People ran from the room. They jumped out the windows and poured through the doors. It amazed Maggie how fast the room emptied. A blur got her attention. She crawled to the end of the bar and peeked around the corner. Carey Chambers was on his hands and knees slinking out of the speakeasy.
“Where are you going?” she said in a harsh whisper. Maggie was face to face with Carey and saw his fat lip, bloody temple and bruised face.
Chambers froze in place for a minute. He looked like a scared rabbit bolting from danger. “I’m not getting arrested, if that’s what you’re wondering. Now, get out of my way.”
“You are a coward and a drunk.” She moved to block his exit.
“Get out of my way right now, Miss Ingram,” Chambers ground out, “or you’ll be in jail with the rest of the people.”
The thumping had slowed. Maggie heard the cops yell at Scott that he was under arrest. She winced but refused to move. “If that’s what it takes to get you to finish the movie then I’ll get arrested. You have two scenes left, Mr. Chambers. Two. Then you can ruin your life all you want.”
Carey moved a fraction of an inch. Prepared to block him again, Maggie was taken aback when he reached up and slapped her face. “Why you—” She reached up and felt her hot, stinging cheek. A red haze blurred her vision.
Maggie’s heart pumped so hard she thought it would burst through her chest. Her hands shook as they rested on the floor.
More angry than she’d ever been in her life, Maggie stood up and yelled, “Over here! Carey Chambers is trying to escape.” She threw him a victorious look as the police officers ran over to handcuff him. “I guess you’ll see who is harmed the most by being arrested, Mr. Chambers. I’m sure they’ll let you out of jail after you’ve gone through withdrawals for your drinking habit.”
Chambers’ face mottled to a deep purple. It didn’t blend well with his other injuries, Maggie thought. He looked old and worn. He tried to wriggle out of the cuffs and said to the police officer, “Unhand me you buffoon. Don’t you know who I am?”
“I know right well who you are, Mr. Chambers.” The officer made sure the cuffs were closed securely. “I’m reckoning so will everybody else by tomorrow morning’s newspaper.” Just as he finished saying that a blinding light snapped in Carey’s face. “Yup. Looks like the newspaper men are already here. Come on, let’s go.”
The officer hauled Carey out to his car. Scott had been taken away along with the man who’d attacked him. Maggie looked around the room. It was in shambles. Shards of broken glass covered the floor. Tables and chairs were knocked over, poker chips, bowls of nuts and money littered the floor. No one else was in the room.
She pulled herself up to her full height with dignity, brushed some loose dirt and broken glass off her now ruined dress and turned.
“I’m sorry, Miss Ingram,” said a policeman who’d just entered the room, “but I have to arrest you too and take you to the station.”
Maggie smiled at the officer. “That’s all right, sir.” She held her hands out to be cuffed but the man stepped back with a shake of his head.
“Oh, no, ma’am. I can’t cuff you. If you’ll be so kind as to follow me to the car, we can have a pleasant drive down the hill to the station.”
Maggie nodded her head to the officer, squared her shoulders and walked out of the speakeasy.
* * * * *
Pandemonium reigned at police headquarters. There were so many people inside the small office that some had to be cuffed to the railing outside to wait their turn to be processed. It seemed the police had been watching the speakeasy for some time and a lot of the men and women who had fled were arrested when they jumped out the windows. The officer shouldered aside some men so he could escort Maggie to his desk.
“Maggie!” Scott yelled. “Sweetheart, are you all right?”
At the sound of Scott’s voice Maggie expelled the breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. Without looking at her escorting officer she veered toward Scott, stepping around suited men in handcuffs. Whistles and cat-calls sounded throughout the room until one policeman stood on his chair and shouted, “Shut up!”
When Maggie reached Scott she threw her arms around him. He leaned into her and said, “I’m sorry I can’t hug you back.” He indicated his cuffed hands in front of him. “Are you okay,” he repeated.
“Yes, I’m fine.” Maggie stroked his battered face running her finger over every cut and bruise. “Your poor face.” She kissed him on his swollen lips.
“You don’t look fine,” Scott said. “You have cuts and dried blood on your face and hands.”
“That’s from the broken glass. I did a bit of crawling on the floor. It’s a good thing I did, too.” She heaved a sigh as she glanced around the room and narrowed her eyes when she found Carey Chambers lounging next to a file cabinet. “Carey was crawling past me to escape the policemen.”
“The low-down, rotten chicken,” Scott muttered.
“I said about the same thing to him as I blocked his exit.” Maggie grinned proud that she hadn’t cowered during the raid.
“Good girl. You did great tonight.”
“Over here, girly,” a policeman said. “Time to process your arrest.”
Maggie smiled at Scott and turned to leave.
“What happened to your face?” Scott asked.
Momentarily having forgotten the slap, Maggie’s hand covered the red marks. “Carey Chambers slapped me when I wouldn’t m
ove out of his way.”
“He did what?” Scott roared. He’d shoved away from the wall he stood next to and took a step. “I’ll kill the bast—”
“Don’t worry Scott,” Maggie purred. “Chambers will get his comeuppance. Some newsman got a close-up picture of his beaten face while he was being cuffed at the speakeasy. It’ll take him years to live it down.”
“Good. He deserves it,” Scott growled.
Chapter Fourteen
The Los Angeles Times splashed Carey Chambers’ picture on the front page with the headline that read, “CAREY CHAMBERS ARRESTED IN RAID ON ILLEGAL SPEAKEASY.” Scott almost laughed at the screaming headline. He gulped his hot coffee and handed the newspaper across the table to Maggie. It was noon and they’d just gotten up.
“How are you feeling, love?” Scott asked.
“Much better now that I’ve seen the headlines.” Maggie beamed at him. Her face had swelled where Chambers hit her and her cuts and bruises were bothering her. “I’m sure it’ll be a day or two before Carey can finish the film. It’ll give my face time to heal. The cuts and bruises can be covered with makeup.”
Scott knew he’d want to kill Chambers the first minute he saw him. It would be a miracle if they made it through the last two scenes. He clenched his hand around the coffee cup then loosened it, afraid he’d break the delicate china. “At least your mother doesn’t have to see your face until later today. Thank God she went shopping. I think she’s spending your father’s money as fast as she can before he cuts her off.”
Maggie went to the coffee pot to refill her cup. “I’m sure Mother knows what she’s doing. She knows that Father won’t take her defection lying down. She’s probably seen a lawyer by now anyway.”
Scott glanced at the clock on the counter. “We’d better get going. Let’s see if we can get to the studio before Sid Goodman sends Selma to haul us in.”
The minute he said that there was a knock on the front door. Maggie opened it to a frowning Selma Benning. “Too late, Scott. Selma’s here to summon us.”
Scott smacked the table lightly. “Damn. I thought we’d beat him to the punch.” He grabbed a coat and smiled at Selma. “Morning Miss Benning. Glorious day, isn’t it?”
Selma frowned at Scott. “Mr. Goodman has sent his car for you and Miss Ingram. He has a meeting set up for five minutes ago.”
Scott laughed at Selma’s serious tone. “We’re coming.” He turned toward Maggie. “Love, do you need anything?”
Maggie emerged from the bedroom with her coat over her arm. She wore a prim and proper copper-colored business suit with a starched white blouse. The style suited her delicate figure. Scott knew that she wore the simple outfit to look as professional as she could. After all, she had a criminal record now.
“Nothing, thank you. I’m ready.”
They piled into Sid Goodman’s Lincoln and the driver whisked them away. No one spoke in the car. They reached the studio in ten minutes. The guard let them through the gate with a frown at Scott and a sour grin for Maggie.
“Well, I never,” she huffed. “One little incident with the police and we’re persona non grata.”
Scott laughed. “This is coming from the former east coast socialite. My how times have changed.” Maggie threw him a defiant look, climbed out of the car and led the small group into Goodman’s office.
The tribunal stood there, arms crossed, lowered eyebrows and a straight line where their mouths used to be. Izzy Mayer, VP extraordinaire, Jonas Smith head of publicity and Matt Gant, the lawyer, all stared at them. Sid Goodman entered the room and all eyes turned to him.
“Who thought up the cockamamie idea to go to a speakeasy, for Christ’s sake?” he boomed.
“No one, sir,” Scott answered. “We were following a suspicious looking man who we thought might be connected to Chambers and he drove to it. I thought that Chambers might frequent such a place, what with his drinking habit and all. Turns out I was right.” Scott added that so that Goodman would know they’d found the missing actor.
“Load of bull—” He picked up the newspaper and glared at it. “Great picture of Chambers,” he muttered sarcastically. “Well, now the whole world knows that Chambers is broke and a lush. With the country against drinking, no one’s going to see a movie and watch a lush pretend to act.” Goodman threw the newspaper across his desk. “The film is doomed. It’s already a financial failure.”
Izzy Mayer spoke up. “Excuse me, Sid. I think we can pull this out of the can if we put the right spin on it,” he turned to Jonas Smith, “don’t you agree, Jonas?”
“Absolutely,” Smith nodded his head in a brisk, business-like way. “Izzy and I brainstormed this morning and we think we have a viable opportunity here—”
“What are you talking about, Jonas? Get to the point,” roared Goodman.
“Well, uh, Izzy and I think that if we put out to the newspapers that we planned this escapade, that Chambers was supposed to be in the speakeasy researching his next picture, then maybe the movie-goers won’t think so badly about him.” He trailed off at the end of his speech with a question in his voice.
“If the public believes our story,” Mayer took up their cause, “then we can tell them that the raid was planned with full knowledge by the police. We’ll get approval from the police chief first, he owes me a favor. That way when the newspapers check, no one will be the wiser.”
Silence filled the room. Goodman paced behind his desk. “How’re you going to explain Forrester’s and Ingram’s arrest at the same speakeasy?
Mayer smiled. “Easy. We’ll tell them the truth.”
“What?” everyone said at the same time?
“You telling me that we’re gonna lie about Chambers and tell the truth about Forrester and Ingram?” Goodman asked. “Bunch of crazies.”
Mayer nodded. “Yes. Once the public reads that Chambers was researching his next film and that Forrester and Ingram were sent to the speakeasy to find him so they could finish shooting The Gunslinger’s Wife then the world will settle back and all will be well.” Mayer heaved a relieved sigh as if he had just come up with the idea. “It’ll even draw in the curious and the morbid to see the film. Sid, we could have a blockbuster on our hands.”
Goodman accepted the tall tale, lambasted Scott and Maggie for their participation in the scandal and ordered everyone out of his office.
Once out in the bright winter sunshine Scott barked out a laugh. “Only a movie studio could come up with a way to turn a disaster into a positive experience. That, my dear,” he said to Maggie, “was the height of the art of spin.”
“That must be something from your time period,” Maggie said as she shook her head. “Well, we scraped through another meeting with Mr. Goodman and didn’t get fired. Too bad. I’m ready to be done with this movie, Carey Chambers, and all of Hollywood.”
“Amen to that, love. Let’s grab a bite from the commissary. I’m starved.”
“Me too,” Maggie said.
They were finishing up their meal when a commotion at the door caught their attention. “I want my daughter and I want her now!”
Maggie straightened at the sound of her father’s angry voice. “What’s he doing here?” she asked Scott.
“Don’t know,” Scott muttered. He knew this wouldn’t be good. Scott took Maggie’s hand in his and they both stood when John Ingram approached.
“Get your hand off my daughter, Forrester. Margaret, leave that man right now,” Ingram ordered in a loud voice.
A room full of people stared at them. “I’m leaving with Scott, Father.”
“No daughter of mine will leave with a nobody actor.”
Maggie squared her shoulders and said, “You already told me I wasn’t your daughter.”
The crowd gasped. John Ingram’s face turned bright red. “You’re an Ingram. That’s all that needs to be said.”
“I’m going to be a Forrester, whether you like it or not. Now please excuse me, Father.”
“
Don’t walk away from me, Margaret. I’m speaking to you.”
Maggie smiled at the patrons of the commissary and headed to the door still holding Scott’s hand. Just as she pushed the door open her father said, “You are no longer an Ingram. I never want to see you again.”
The tears she’d kept at bay fell as soon as the door closed behind them. Maggie buried her face in her hands and sobbed. Scott pulled her into a tight embrace and murmured to her.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You shouldn’t have had to go through that.” He rubbed her back and shoulders in soothing circles.
“Why-why…did he have to-to…make such a spectacle in front of all those-those people?” Maggie cried on Scott’s shoulder.
“Come, love. Let’s go back to your apartment. You need to rest.” He steered her toward the entrance where the guard called a cab for them. “I wish we’d driven here ourselves instead of letting Selma bring us in Goodman’s car.”
Maggie didn’t say anything. She gathered her composure and waited for the cab. The ride home was made in silence. Scott kept her glued to his side and Maggie was grateful for his love and support.
The front door to the apartment opened as soon as they reached it. “I’ve been waiting for you, darling,” her mother said. “From the look on your face it didn’t go very well. By the way, thank you for the note the studio delivered earlier explaining where you’d gone.”
They all took seats in the living room. “The meeting with Sid went well, Mother. We weren’t fired, not that he would do that this close to the end of filming.” Maggie sighed and tears began to stream down her face again. “But Father came into the commissary when Scott and I were eating and ordered me to leave Scott and go with him. When I refused he disowned me and told me he-he…never wanted to see me again.” Maggie’s voice had dropped to a whisper. “I’m so humiliated.” Maggie fled to the bedroom where she closed the door.
Scott and Violet looked at each other for a long moment. “It was an ugly, loud scene, Mrs. Ingram. The people in the commissary were shocked.”
No Silent Christmas Page 19
