Marge was laid out in a open bronze casket in the front of the room.
Clint thought she looked serene with her hair done up and they had made her up well. After the services were over, Clint walked up to the casket.
Thorton was standing next to the coffin. “I thought you might miss the services,” said Thorton.
“I returned last night. I’m sorry about Marge. We’ll miss her,” he said as he peered down into in her coffin.
Thorton looked on with him. “She looks pretty good laying there doesn’t she? To think I ain’t had none of that pussy in twenty years.”
Clint felt he had never heard anyone speak about the dead like that.
He couldn’t answer Thorton.
“Come on up to the house for some drinks, and bring Tana,” said Thorton, leaving the funeral home.
Clint and Tana followed the caravan up to Thorton’s hilltop house.
Everyone made a beeline for the bar. It’s going be a wet one; I think I’ll get drunk, thought Clint. Now that Marge was gone, it wouldn’t be the same because Marge had held the place together. When Clint saw Thorton at the funeral he had a feeling that Thorton wouldn’t be around much longer.
Marshall sat at the bar. “You look glum, Marshall. You must know that your days are over.” Marshall looked at Clint as if to say, “Fuck off.” “Nothing to cry about,” he said.
“You’ve never mentioned your wife. Where do you keep her? Locked up somewhere?” said Clint. Marshall walked away from him. Rally Jones sat at the bar. Clint gave him a hello. Rally, who had been drunk since the accident in Palm Springs, peered back at him with a surly look. Clint knew he was going to stay away from him. A big loser, Clint thought.
Tana Williams came up holding a drink in her hand. “I’ve been talking to the nice black girl over there.” She referred to a plain woman who stood talking to a man on the slight side, her same size, wearing thick dark glasses. “That’s Thorton’s son.”
“No. I knew he had one, but I had never met him. What’s he like?”
“Oh, he’s very nice. Quiet and unassuming, not at all like his mother and father. It’s so funny; you know how prejudiced Thorton is? Yet he has a son married to a black woman. Isn’t that ironic? I think he knows I’ve been his father’s mistress.”
“How do you know?”
“Call it women’s intuition. He seems to know a lot about me.
Somebody must have told him. I think he likes the idea, myself.”
“You’re perceptive.”
“You know I’m a witch, dahlin.” She gave Clint a big smile and left his side.
The room filled up with guests and got progressively louder from drinking. It was an upbeat mood and everyone was having a good time.
There was lots of talk about how glamorous Marge had been and how she would be missed.
Rally had been brooding at the bar. He was drunk and talked loudly. He kept looking at Clint. Rally got up from where he was sitting and staggered over to Clint.
“You know. I never liked you. I could never figure why Thorton had you around. It must have been all that pussy you brought here.” Clint turned toward him like a cock rooster about to attack.
“You enjoyed it, you overrated Okie plough-jockey.”
Rally took a swing, but Clint ducked and grabbed Rally around the neck and ran him through the open door and threw him out onto the terrace. Clint ran back into the house and locked the doors behind him.
Rally got up and pounded on the glass trying to get back in. Clint breathed hard but, with great composure, adjusted his clothes.
“I’m not going to defend myself with that loser,” said Clint to a heavy-set man who stood next to him.
“I’m an old fried of Marge’s. I came a long way to pay my respects to her. Don’t you have any regard for her? Fighting in her house, when she isn’t cold in her coffin!” he said.
“Are you kidding?” Clint answered. “This is the kind of party she would have enjoyed.” Clint left the room.
Thorton’s son followed him. “Clint, Clint, can I have a word with you?” He caught up to Clint and put out his hand in a handshake. “I’m Thorton Jr. I want to ask you something. I know you and my father are friends. He told me he told you that I’ve never had a white piece of tail.
Mother told me he told you that too. Do me a favor. You’ve been to those whorehouses in Tijuana. You know those girls skin is sort of attaché case color. Can you tell father that? Tell him that I screwed those girls. He tells everybody that I never had any white pussy and that’s a lie. I know he’ll listen to you. Could you do that for me, please?”
Clint couldn’t believe what he had heard. It must be a joke, he thought. But it wasn’t. Clint could tell by looking at this poor confused young man that he meant every word.
“Sure, Thorton. I’ll tell him. I’ll take care of it. I’ll tell him what he’s missed.”
“Thank you. You don’t know how relieved I am,” he said as he turned and went back into the house. Clint watched him go and shook his head. What our parents can do to us, he thought as he got into his car and drove down the hill.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
While Marty was in Europe, Georgia hired a lawyer and filed for divorce. When he returned he got back on pills and moved into Clint’s guesthouse to forget. Clint tried to help him adjust.
Emotionally he cried all the time and didn’t want to work, and when he did, Clint had to be with him to make sure he was at the studio and able to work. Georgia’s attorney asked for the house she and Marty had bought plus an alimony settlement and child support payments. Marty was broke because of gambling and had to keep working.
Clint, through a friend, had found a psychiatrist at UCLA. Marty liked his approach and let the doctor check him into UCLA Medical Center for treatment Marty’s addiction had started early in his career.
He was overworked going from one major picture to another.
Sometimes he’d be filming two movies at the same time. He had hurt his back and neck in a skiing accident so he lived with pain in addition to the overwork. He took pain pills along with sleeping pills to get relief and gradually got addicted. His doctors kept giving him the pills.
The quantities he would take would put a normal person into a coma, but Marty built up a tolerance and kept taking more. He would sleep for days and just get up to eat. He wasn’t his feisty self; instead he became mush-mouthed when he talked and acted like a child that needed care. The doctors who gave him the pills no longer wanted to treat him because of his hounding them to satisfy his addiction. He had no trouble getting new doctors to prescribe Seconal and Nembutal because of who he was and the con job he would give them. The only way that Marty would get off the pills was to check into a hospital for the cold-turkey treatment. Most good hospitals looked down on the treatment of drug addicts so it was difficult to find proper care.
When Clint asked Marty’s doctor about pill addiction, he said, “It’s the worst of all addictions and almost impossible to cure.”
Luis moved in with Georgia and her child and pushed her to get a divorce. Marty didn’t want a divorce and was determined to get Georgia back. She had no grounds except for mental cruelty, which had to be proven in court.
Castro wanted Luis back in Cuba to stand trial for deserting the revolution and to make an example of him to his followers. The Cuban government, through informants, told the CIA that Luis was an agent of the Cuban government and planned a reprisal in the U.S. against the Cubans who helped in the United States abortive attempt at the Bay of Pigs. The FBI had visited Luis’s cousin in Los Angeles looking for him. His cousin told them he didn’t know where Luis was, but got this information to Luis. Luis knew if he was caught he would be deported to Cuba. He’d rather die than let that happen, and became a fugitive and desperate man.
Georgia knew nothing of his plight. Luis became insecure and wouldn’t let Georgia out of his sight. He became jealous and listened in on her phone calls.
Cl
int called Georgia. “Don’t hang up. You’ve got to hear me out.
I’m not your enemy. I’m trying to help you. Would you see Marty at the hospital? If you two talk without your lawyers you’ll be able to clear up this mess. The way things are now he’s going to fight you in court and have you declared an unfit mother. He’s had a detective on you, and he’s got a good case. Talk to him. Work something out.”
When the phone rang, Luis had picked it up and listened.
“I’ll call him.” She hung up as Luis came running into the room.
“I heard what you said. You will not see Marty.”
“I have to. You’ve heard he has detectives on me. He’s had us followed. He’ll try to take the child. I can’t let that happen. I have to talk to him,” she said as Luis started to brood.
“If you see him he will talk you into coming back to him. I feel it.
You will leave me. I will die first,” he said in a monotone voice.
“Luis, you’re crazy. I love you. I’m not going to leave you, but I do have to talk to Marty. He’s not taking my child.”
“That boy is mine. Does he know?”
“He’s never said a word. Marty is too proud to say anything.
His ego wouldn’t let him.”
“If you love me you will do this for me.”
“Do what?”
“When you see Marty you wear a wire hidden on you. He’ll never know about it. Please,” he pleaded. “I have to know what he says to you, my darling. It means so much to me.”
Georgia could see the seriousness of Luis’ insecurities. The poor man. He’s scared to death that I’m going to leave him. I’m worried about my baby and he’s worried that I will go back to Marty. What a mess, she thought. I have got to work something out; something that works for all of us. She dialed UCLA.
“Mr. Marty Fallon, please. Tell him it’s his wife calling.” She waited for a moment and Marty came on the line.
“Hi, honey, whatcha doing?” he said sheepishly.
“Marty, can I see you about four today?”
“Sure, honey. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Bye.” She hung up.
“You never answered me about the wire. You wear it? I have used it before in Cuba. No one will know you are wearing it.” He peered at her with a pleading look in his eyes.
“If it means so much to you. You have nothing to worry about. I’m not going back to him, I promise.” Luis was relieved.
“I go now to get the wire. I think I know where I can get one.
Adios.” He held her tight looking into her clear blue eyes. Georgia felt warmth in her body while he held her. He kissed her and left the room.
Georgia had sent her boy to her mother’s for the night. She gave the maid and governess the day and night off and was alone in the house when Luis returned with the wire and a tape recorder. They enjoyed each other without anyone in the house and made love in the early afternoon out by the swimming pool. Georgia worried about her meeting with Marty, but didn’t let on. When Luis brought it up she would change the subject. Before they left for the medical center Luis fitted Georgia with the wire. He pinned the microphone on her brassiere and put the antenna in the back of her skirt at her waist and she covered it with a loose blouse. There was no way to detect the wire. He showed her how to turn it on and off.
They drove to UCLA, neither of them saying anything. Georgia thought about what she would say to Marty. When they got to the hospital Luis drove into the parking lot and let Georgia out, telling her he would remain in the car and wait for her to return. He told her to turn on the wire before she went into Marty’s room. Georgia hated wearing it. She thought Luis was childish and she did it to appease him.
As Georgia walked down the corridor toward Marty’s room she turned on the wire. She put on a pair of sunglasses so Marty couldn’t see the emotions that would show on her face. When she walked in, Marty was lying in bed with the television on. His face was strained and he acted fidgety. She could see he was in withdrawal from the pills.
She came to his bedside.
“Honey, I can’t tell you how nice it is to see you. How’s our son?
Has he asked about me?”
“He’s growing and he asked about you.”
“Pick up that chair and bring it over here and sit by me so I can look at you.” Georgia brought a chair over to the bed and sat down.
“Oh, honey I missed you so. Why are we doing this to each other?
I love you. I have this terrible time in my mind about you wanting a divorce.”
“I didn’t come here to talk to you about not getting a divorce. I’m getting a divorce, Marty.”
“But, honey what have I done? I try to give you everything. I break my ass working to make the money we need.”
“Marty, it’s the gambling and the pills. I can’t take it anymore. It’s destroyed our marriage. It’s a sickness you have and it drives me crazy.”
“Honey, what’s a few dollars at the track?”
“You see. ‘What’s a few dollars at the track’”, she repeated sarcastically. “You just don’t get it. A few dollars became thousands of dollars. That’s where our money goes. There’ll be no money to send the kid to school.”
“Honey, you know I make a lot of money when I work and I work all the time. Just because I’m laid up in this hospital doesn’t mean it’s over for me. When I get out of here, Clint has me booked into next year.
Why are you always worrying about money? Don’t I give you everything you want? You got a beautiful house, a Cadillac, maids, a nanny and a man who loves you. So I’m a little screwed up, who isn’t? If it’s money that bothers you, you’re going to have more money with me than your Cuban communist. He doesn’t believe in money. I can see you living in Cuba on what HE makes. I’m willing to forget about your Cuban. And on my baby’s head I swear I’ll stay away from the track and quit gambling. Look at me! I’m here having to go through hell trying to get off pills. I’m doing this for you! I don’t want to lose you, sweetheart.” Marty started to sob. “Honey, I love you so. You don’t know what I have been through agonizing over your leaving me. That’s why I’m here to show you I can get off pills and be a husband and lover to you again. Can’t we forget the past and start over again? I’ll change for you. You can bet your ass I will.” He sobbed and tried reaching for her hand.
“I would like to believe you, but you’ve told me this before and gone back to your same bad habits. You’re such a good actor, you make me believe you, but you’ll say anything to get your way.” Marty peered hard at her and his tear-filled eyes narrowed. “I was trying not to bring this up, but I’ve had you followed for months. I got it all, and that means photos. I’ll fight you for my kid. If the judge sees what I have on you, there’s no way in hell you’re gonna get away with my kid.
You’ll be declared an unfit mother. Think about it, will ya?”
Georgia started to cry. The tears rolled down her face. “OK, Marty what do you want from me?” she asked. taking, a corner of the sheet on Marty’s bed to wipe her eyes.
“Stop seeing your Cuban and I’m to come home to you after I get out of here,” he said.
Luis was listening and recording their conversation in the car. He became crazy with rage. His face contorted. Sweat appeared on his upper lip. Then the tape recorder went dead. He pushed all the buttons but nothing happened. “She’s turned it off,” he screamed. He pulled the wire out of the machine and threw the recorder on the floorboard. He stared straight ahead, his face crimson with rage.
“No. No, She can’t leave me.” His words trailed off into sobs.
Georgia had gone into the bathroom to turn off the microphone because she didn’t want Luis to hear her anymore. Georgia was confused and trapped. There was no solution but to go back to Marty. She could see he loved her very much and she would have her child. That was more important to her than Luis. Life with Luis would be difficult.
But how she was going to te
ll him? she wondered.
Georgia came out of the hospital about twenty minutes later. When she approached the car she saw Luis waiting for her standing against the car fender. She could tell he was suffering by the way he looked at her.
“You’re going back to him? I won’t let you. I will kill myself first,” he said out of control.
“I had to tell him that to get away from him. He’s so clever. Before you know it, he has me believing it’s all my fault.”
Luis watched her like he wanted to believe her. He got back into the car and Georgia got in next to him and they drove back to the house.
Luis remained quiet and listless.
Georgia went on to the bedroom when they arrived home. Luis went to the den and pulled open the desk drawer where a .38 caliber revolver lay. He picked it up and checked it for bullets. The pistol was loaded. He put the gun in his pocket and walked down the hallway to the bedroom where Georgia had gone. She was not in the bedroom. He locked the bedroom door behind him and went into the bathroom.
Georgia peered at him as he came through the door. “Are you all right? You look pale.”
“I’m OK,” he said as he walked to her. He took her in his arms and stared into her face. Georgia didn’t know what to make of how he acted. He reached down into his pocket and pulled out the .38. He put the cold barrel up to her jaw and pulled the trigger. The bullet entered her, passing through her mouth and into her brain. She collapsed in his arms and died instantly. He let her fall onto the marble floor. He then put the gun barrel into his mouth and pulled the trigger. His body fell on top of her, the gun still in his hand.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Nobody was the same to Clint after Georgia’s death. Georgia’s mother took her boy. He was too young to know what had happened to his mother. Clint kept Marty working as he adjusted his life.
Murder is a hard reality to face, thought Clint, and he blamed himself thinking he could have done more to help Georgia, but he didn’t know the seriousness of Georgia’s problems and she wouldn’t have listened to him anyway. `Love is blind’ could not be expressed in better words.
Confessions of a Hollywood Agent Page 19
