“Let’s go. Out that door,” said Clint as he pointed to a door into the garden. Clint held on to Marge’s hand; she was sobbing out of control.
He stopped to shake her.
“Marge, get ahold of yourself.” He pulled her after him into the garden. The rest followed. After a few minutes they stopped to rest and gain their composure. Thorton and Corky had sobered up from the ordeal. Marge collapsed and lay on the ground.
“Marge, what’s wrong with you?” asked Clint.
“I’m so embarrassed, you know what? This is so embarrassing … I peed my pants,” said Marge.
“Let’s move on. Look for the entrance to the park.” Clint studied everyone to see who would need help. Thorton and Corky were holding up. Tana and Jimmy were managing. More sporadic gunfire was heard near them. They froze in a crouched position to avoid the bullets they thought could be coming their way. They got up and moved on. As they approached Jose Marti Park, they found the park empty. The race crowd had dispersed when the gunfire and the explosions started.
“Wait here. I see the park entrance over there,” said Clint. They sat under the bronze statue of Jose Marti and were exhausted, keeping quiet, everyone in their own thoughts.
Clint found a fountain and put his head under the water, cooling him off and clearing his head as it cascaded from the top. Marge joined him, throwing water from the fountain on her crotch, soaking her pants and shoes.
“I feel better now,” she said. They sat around the fountain as the time passed, with all eyes on the park entrance.
A Volkswagen van pulled up to the entry. Marshall sat in the front seat. He got out and waved to them. They ran to the van to meet him.
“I never thought I would ever be as happy to see you, Marshall, as I am now,” said Marge.
“What happened to you?” he asked?
“Don’t ask!” said Marge, “Did you get us a boat?” Clint asked as they climbed into the van.
“It’s waiting at the dock. Hurry, get in. Everybody’s crazy around here. I saw some Americans pulled from their cab and searched by a gang. They robbed them and left them standing in the street. This is Juan, our driver. He cost us plenty but he helped in getting me the boat.
I hope you got lots of cash, Clint. We’re going to need it to get out of here,” said Marshall. Juan stepped on the gas and they moved off toward the harbor.
“Where is Roman?” asked Thorton?
“He’s at the boat waiting. Tony is staying with the car. He wouldn’t come. He says they’ll have to shoot him before they get the car. I gave him five hundred dollars and told him to go to the American Embassy.
It was all the money I had. I said I’d wire him money there to get the car out of the country. You know how he is,” said Marshall.
“Yes, I do. Good ol’ Tony,” said Thorton.
As they approached the harbor, cars were backed up in traffic. The drivers pushed their horns, yelling at each other and getting out of their cars to see what held everyone up.
“This traffic has happened since I left here. We’re not the only ones wanting to get out of here by boat,” said Marshall. He opened the door of the van.
“Give Juan five hundred dollars. That’s what he charged me to get here,” said Marshall. Clint gave the driver five hundred dollars.
“It’s best we walk or we will never get there and someone else will try to take our boat,” said Clint.
Dorothy pushed through the crowd after she left the Nacional. Most of the people on the street had been at the race and the others were hotel workers who had left their jobs when the explosion went off. She could tell that everyone wanted to get out of this section of the city because this was where all the trouble was centered. She tried to look inconspicuous by holding her head down along the way. When she got to the Riviera, two cars, apparently, abandoned in the driveway blocked the entrance. When she entered the lobby, she could tell the staff had abandoned the place. The management staff was behind the desk trying to deal with all the hotel guests looking for a way out of Havana.
Dorothy went to the house phone; it wasn’t working. She walked over to the elevator; it wasn’t working. She saw the stairs to the mezzanine and the general offices. Meyer would be there, she thought.
When she walked into the foyer, Meyer and Nathan stood at the counter going over papers. They glanced up as she entered.
“I’ve had everyone looking for you. I thought I was going to have to leave you here. Get your things. We’re leaving now,” said Nathan.
“I need help with my bags and get Clint’s also. How are we getting out of here?”
“We have a plane waiting for us to take us to Miami. Forget Clint’s bags. We don’t have time,” said Nathan.
After walking many blocks the group reached the part of the harbor where Marshall found the boat he had chartered. There were other Americans carrying their bags going from one boat to another asking the owners if they could charter passage to the United States. The boat operators were making a killing. If one party wouldn’t pay their price another would. “It’s down at the end of this pier. The name of the boat is the Maria Elena, said Marshall and they followed him on the watersoaked rickety planks.
“Watch your step,” Marshall called back as they made their way toward the boat. The smell of dead fish and brackish water filled their nostrils. The odor made Marge sick. She gagged and stopped to vomit.
She felt weak and fell down onto the pier. She tried to stop her fall with the hand she used to carry her bag of jewels. The bag fell into the water and sank.
“Someone help me! My jewels, they’re gone! For God’s sake, someone get my jewels I dropped them in the water.” Marge screamed at Thorton who was helpless.
Clint and Jimmy ran to her. Clint peered into the murky water and saw nothing. He dived into the water. He opened up his eyes and could see nothing around him except old discarded tires and barnacleencrusted debris in the cloudy water. He came up for air and saw the faces of the anxious onlookers.
“I can’t see down there,” he said, shaking his head.
In the meantime Marshall had gone to the boat for help and came back with a young albino, who was the Cuban captain’s son. He dived in near Clint. Clint swam back to the pier and Jimmy helped him out.
Everyone stood waiting for the albino to surface. A few anxious moments later, the albino came up holding Marge’s bag out of the water.
Marge yelled at Thorton. “Give that boy a reward, Thorton. He’s saved my jewels.”
Clint and Marshall helped the boy out of the water and he went to Marge and presented her with the bag. Marge gave him a big hug and a kiss. Clint reached in his pocket and took out the roll of wet bills and gave the boy a hundred-dollar-bill.
“Muchas gracious, Señor,” he said, smiling at Clint. He ran off in the direction of their chartered boat. They could see Roman standing on an old fishing boat ahead. As they got closer they could see that the boat was rusted out. There was so much caked rust that you couldn’t see the paint except on the wooden pilothouse.
“We’re not getting on this horrible thing, are we?” asked Marge.
“It’s our only way out of here. In fact I was lucky to find this floating rust heap,” said Marshall. The captain, who was a fat, drunken Cuban, came to the side of the boat to help them aboard. His son, the albino, gave a hand to Tana and helped her aboard. Tana’s heels had broken off so she walked bare-footed. Clint attempted to go below, but the smell of diesel fuel drove him back up on deck.
After Clint had given the captain half payment of twenty-five hundred dollars, the captain started the engines, and they inched their way into the harbor. The smoke coming from the dilapidated smoke stack blew in their faces. They choked and moved to the front. A salt-water breeze refreshed them as they passed the old fortress of Morro Bay on to open sea. Clint thought, what irony. They had come to Havana first class and left as boat people. He almost laughed.
PART II
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
B
ack in Hollywood Clint heard that John Fitzgerald Kennedy had announced he would run for President. Clint was pleased and got involved in his campaign organizing a group of actors and actresses to attend numerous functions on Kennedy’s behalf.
On the night before the Democratic convention in Los Angeles, a cocktail party for JFK, United States Labor’s choice for President, was given by Dave McDonnell, head of the United Steel Workers union at Chasen’s restaurant in Beverly Hills.
The guest list was impressive. Mayor Daly of Chicago, Mayor Wagner of New York, George Meany, head of the CIO and the California Democratic leaders.
Clint brought Dorothy Winters, who was gaining worldwide fame for her movie roles. She stood out in the crowd with her long red hair, her full bust and creamy white skin in a Galanos black and white crepe dress, accentuated by some beautiful jewelry.
The old union leaders gave her attention and wondered among themselves what it would cost to keep a woman like Dorothy.
JFK was an hour late and the horde of invited guests were getting loud and restless. When he finally made his entrance you thought you were at an Irish wake.
JFK made his way around the room shaking hands, thanking everybody for their help and asking what he could do for them when he became President. When he got to Clint and Dorothy, he said, “Kenny O’ Donnell tells me you’re responsible for bringing new talent into the party. Keep up the good work”. He gazed at Dorothy and gave his firm hand. “Dorothy Winters, I’ve admired your performances.
I’m happy to find you’re a Democrat. If you’re ever in Washington, don’t hesitate to call. We’d like to entertain you,” he said, smiling, and moved on.
Clint glanced at Dorothy and said, “I think he likes you. I wonder what he meant by we?”
“What do you mean? He’s referring to his wife.”
“Oh, it’s obvious he’s more than a fan of yours,” Clint said smiling.
“You’d set me up with him, wouldn’t you? You horrible pimp.”
“Why not? Look what you could do for our country.” Mayor Daly passed by.
“Mr. Mayor, I’d like you to meet Dorothy Winters.” Mayor Daly gazed at Dorothy, giving her an approving eye.
“I just returned from Chicago, Mayor. Do you know the Blackstone Raiders?” Mayor Daly was taken back by the question.
“How would someone like you know radicals such as … excuse me I have to talk to that fellow over there before he gets away, but I’ll be back to ask you how you got acquainted with that group,” said the Mayor as he left her side.
Tana Williams spotted Dorothy and took the hand of the man she was with, a middle-aged Germanic-looking man who wore frameless glasses, and pulled him along behind her.
“Dorothy, how beautiful you look. Your dress is lovely. This is the German gentleman I told you about when we were in Cuba, Johannes Diedrich.”
Johannes took a small bow and took Dorothy’s hand and kissed it.
“Good to meet you.” he said gazing into Dorothy’s eyes. Dorothy was impressed. He had that perverse look she found interesting.
She could tell there was mutual interest. She hadn’t had that feeling since … Geoffrey.
“Tana, you never told me how attractive he is.”
“I wanted to surprise you.”
“Can we sit?” Johannes suggested and pointed to a empty table.
“Do you come to California often?” asked Dorothy.
“I bought a home in Beverly Hills.”
“We’re neighbors. I live there, too.”
“It will be easy to see you then.” Dorothy liked that comment. “I go to the bar and get champagne for you?” Dorothy and Tana nodded.
Johannes left their table.
“Tana, you know my type. He is sexy and he gives me a feeling of danger. Why didn’t you tell me who he was? He is wealthy. Are you dating him?”
“We’re just friends. He’s very generous, but a little kinky.”
“Kinky? What do you mean? What does he want you to do?”
“He likes two girls.”
“Jeez! What’s with these guys today? Can’t they get it up for one girl anymore? I told you I wasn’t into that. I think I’ll pass on him if he wants me to do scenes.”
“He’d respect you, maybe. He does give a girl beautiful things.”
Tana adjusted a pearl and diamond earring she wore.
“I do love jewelry,” said Dorothy, looking at Tana, smiling.
Johannes returned to the table with a bottle of Dom Perignon and three glasses and poured their glasses full.
“Can I make a toast?” asked Dorothy.
“Of course,” said Johanes.
“To the next President of the United States, John Fitzgerald Kennedy.”
The next morning Clint was awakened by the telephone.
“Did you see the man Tana Williams and I were sitting with last night?
“Johannes Diedrich?”
“You know him?”
“By reputation.”
“What’s his story?”
“He’s very rich. By the way, I got it from a good source JFK is seeing Marilyn Monroe on the side. I thought I’d mention it in case you have some ideas yourself.” Dorothy kept silent on the line.
“I’ll see you tonight at the convention. It’s the Sports Arena. Bye.”
Clint hung up. I wonder what she’s up to? he thought. Only time will tell.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Clint bought an option on a book. The novel would be the starting point for his move to producing. Nathan had accepted him and introduced him to the head of MGM Studios. His meetings were productive and they initiated the step process for a future motion picture. He remained at the talent agency and kept his clients happy and working.
Georgia and Marty had their baby. It was a boy. Marty told Clint he felt happier than he had in years, and said Georgia loved being a mother and all she talked about was her child.
Clint spent time in the morning watching the stock market quotes.
He and his friends had invested in Marsh International Gaming. A great amount of activity had been going on with the stock. It had risen over twenty points. He picked up the phone and called Dorothy.
“Hello.”
“Have you heard? Marsh International Gaming is up over twenty points today. I doubled my money. Should I sell?”
“No, not yet, Nathan just returned from the East Coast. Whenever he goes back there the stock goes up. I think he tells every head waiter between here, New York and Toronto to buy the stock and they pass it on to their customers.”
“You think I should stay in, huh?”
“The stock will go up more, “ said Dorothy.
“Did I tell how much I love you? You’re making me a big deal. I’m being known for my financial wizardry.”
“You’re welcome, darling.”
Minutes later the phone rang. Clint picked it up.
“Clint, it’s Thorton North.”
“I bet I know why you called”, said Clint.
“You do. My broker called me about Marsh International. Should I sell?”
“No. I checked with my source. Hold on. Buy more.”
“I’ll do that. We got bad news around here. Marge has cancer.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Where?”
“In her lungs.” Clint visualized Marge always with a cigarette.
“Is she getting treatment?”
“She’s starts radiation next week and if that doesn’t work they’ll give her chemical therapy.” Clint imagined Marge losing her hair.
“I’ve been sitting around all day wanting to take a drink. Me wanting a drink and not taking one. I won’t know what to do if she goes.”
Clint could hear Thorton choking up on the phone. “I know I have been miserable to her sometimes, but I love her and she loves me in her own way, even if I haven’t seen her pussy for twenty years,” said Thorton.
Clint heard him break up and start to sob.
C
lint said, “My other phone’s ringing, I got to go, I’ll come by.” He hung up and tried to figure how old Marge would be.
Marsh International Gaming stock sold rapidly to the public. They had strategic brokers in different parts of the United States and Canada buying and selling the stock between them creating their own market.
The stock soared on the exchange. The SEC became suspicious and suspended the stock. Panic broke out among its investors.
Morry, Nathan, and Dorothy, among others were indicted by the SEC for stock manipulation and subpoenaed to appear in Washington D.C. before the Grand Jury.
The Hollywood press picked up the story. Dorothy Winters’s name was mentioned as one of the original owners of the Corporation.
A few of the Hollywood Ins, knew Dorothy had skeletons in her closet, but so did others in high positions. Dorothy was popular for her dramatic ability and was getting more respect from the industry with every picture she did. Major stardom was on her horizon. Gossip Was changing her image to a Virginia Hill portrait, girlfriend of the mob.
Dorothy was dating Johannes Diedrich. Most of the men in Dorothy’s life she could control except Nathan and Clint. She had never met a man like Johannes. On their first date, he flew her in his jet to San Francisco for dinner at the Fairmont Hotel. He gave her a diamond and sapphire pin at dinner in remembrance of their first date.
He liked to dance, and they danced throughout the evening. When they returned to Beverly Hills, she invited him in. He talked about his life.
He told her about his childhood in Germany during the war. He was fifteen when the war was over, about to be drafted into the Germany Army. He had studied engineering and at a early age had invented and patented a valve that was used all over the world. He also developed some large machinery used to rebuild Germany. He had married at an early age to his first girlfriend, a local girl, who hadn’t grown with him in life. They were divorced and he later married a French actress to whom he was still married, but separated. She was an alcoholic.
After their intimate evening together, Johannes gave Dorothy a deep kiss as he left and told her he’d like to fly her to Puerto Vallarta for the weekend. As she removed her clothes and took off her makeup she looked in the mirror and examined her face. Dorothy, you’ve found your husband.
Confessions of a Hollywood Agent Page 15
