Confessions of a Hollywood Agent

by William Louis Gardner

  “What can I say? Let me think.”

  “Think about what? That I’m a Jew. You got a lot to learn, Buster.

  This is America. We’re civilized here. The people in this country came here to get away from prejudice.”

  “You’re overreacting,” said Johannes.

  “Maybe I am, but I’m glad I got this out in the open. I could have made the biggest mistake of my life. If you will excuse me, I’m going to the bedroom for the evening and I’ll be ready to leave early in the morning. You’ll be sleeping here on the sofa tonight.” She got up and walked into the bedroom and slammed the door. Nathan was right. He is a Nazi, she thought. She started to cry as she fell on the bed. She heard a knock at the bedroom door.

  “Dorothy, I want to talk to you. Let me explain,” he said through the door.

  “Go away. You’ve said enough already. You hate Jews. You don’t have to say anything more,” she said. Dorothy couldn’t believe what had just happened. The love light went out like that. She had been in love five minutes ago. What had happened, she wondered. She obviously was never in love with him. It was his money she was in love with. That was her only explanation, or maybe that phone call. She was proud of herself for telling him to fuck off. She might not be a templegoing Jew, but she was a Jew and she was proud of it. Clint’s right. Stay single. You’re an actress. The man in your life has to be the right man.

  He’s the man who can put up with me.

  That night she slept badly. She tossed and turned. She kept looking at the clock at her bed. It was as if dawn would never come. She could hear the wind blowing outside and she peered out and saw a solid mass of blowing snow reflecting off the lights of a car going by on the road below. I hope I can get out of here in the morning. I’ll die if I have to stay another day with this Nazi, she said to herself as she got back into bed and waited for the sun to come up.

  Johannes had already left the room when she got up to dress. She felt tired. I’m going to put all that behind me now and get on with my life, she thought. She put her clothes into two bags. She called Clint in Los Angeles but got his answering service. She left him a message that she would go to the studio directly from the plane. She went down to the front desk. She wore a long Russian lynx coat and a lynx hat. It was like she had stepped out of a Tolstoy novel.

  “I’m checking out. Are there any messages?” she asked.

  “Yes, Miss Winters, Mr. Diedrich has gone to the airport. He said he’d meet you there,” said the desk clerk.

  “Thank you. Staying here was heaven,” she said to the desk clerk.

  It almost was, she thought Oh, well. She went outside. The wind and the blowing snow made it difficult to see. She got into the car that waited for her and they drove on to the airport. The driver had trouble keeping the car on the road because of ice.

  When she got to the Aspen airport the waiting room had passengers sitting around waiting for their flights. She checked with the airline and they told her the planes were grounded. She went to find Johannes and Tim. They were in the weather room, conferring with the weatherman.

  As she approached, Johannes acknowledged her presence but said nothing.

  “What do you think, Tim, can we get out of here?” he asked.

  “We could give it a try. I don’t like those extra fuel tanks on the wings. They’re full of fuel. It gives us weight we don’t need. Can they be drained before we take off?” he asked.

  “This Lear has the power to get up. I have flown many times in Switzerland in bad weather, with mountains, and had no problem getting off. I need to be back in Los Angeles and so does Dorothy. So let’s do it,” said Johannes. He motioned to Dorothy, who had sat in a chair by the door to come out to the plane.

  “Can you help me with my bags?” she said to Tim. The three walked out on the tarmac to the Lear jet. The visibility was almost zero as the cold wind and snow blew around them as they approached the jet. Tim opened the passenger door and Johannes got into the jet first and sat down in the pilot’s seat. Dorothy followed. It was freezing inside the cabin and Dorothy could see her breath as it came from her mouth. She got into her seat behind the cockpit and buckled herself in.

  She was not letting anybody know, but she was scared to death. If it were under different circumstances she would have not gotten on, but she had to get back and she couldn’t stand being with Johannes and wanted to be finished with him. Johannes started the engines. They made a high whirling movement and sound. He and Tim checked the instruments as Dorothy peered forward into the cockpit. She glanced out of her porthole window as the jet taxied off the tarmac. The wind and snow had covered the window and she could hardly see the terminal as they passed. When then reached the end of the flight line, the jet stopped. Johannes turned the Lear onto the runway.

  “Aspen tower, Lear Jet 2U11 requesting permission for take-off,” said Johannes into his headset.

  “Lear Jet 2U11. Visibility zero, wind north, three sixty, forty-mile to fifty-mile gusts. Ceiling obscure. Are you sure you want to do this, Lear Jet?” asked the tower. Tim looked to Johannes.

  “We’re taking off,” said Johannes looking straight ahead.

  “Permission granted. Good luck,” said the male voice over the mike. Johannes brought up the throttles. The jet engines revved up to their maximum horsepower and the plane headed down the runway.

  Dorothy panicked and released her seat belt and jumped from her seat into the cockpit.

  “Stop! Let me off!” she yelled as the plane picked up speed.

  “Are you crazy? Get back in your seat, put your belt on,” yelled Johannes.

  Dorothy grabbed Johannes’ hand that held the throttle and tried to pull it down. “Please, I want off. Please,” she sobbed.

  Tim tried to push her back into the cabin as Johannes pulled back the throttle and the plane started to slide and came to an abrupt stop at the end of the runway in a cloud of powdered snow.

  “Thank you,” said Dorothy relieved, taking a deep breath.

  “What’s your problem? We could have crashed from what you did.”

  “I’m scared. I can’t fly with you. I had a premonition something horrible is going to happen. I want off. Please! Don’t go! Please wait for the weather to clear.” She cried.

  Johannes and Tim looked at each other. Johannes said. “Let her out.”

  Tim released his safety belt and crawled back through the cabin to the door. Johannes turned the jet around and taxied back to the terminal and stopped. Tim opened the door and took Dorothy’s bags from the plane and left them on the ground.

  Dorothy turned to Johannes as she exited.

  “I beg you don’t go.”

  Johannes kept his head straight ahead his eyes peered into the blowing snow.

  Clint had gotten out of the shower and stood shaving. He liked to listen to the Today Show in the morning to get the news and to find out what was going on in the world of entertainment. A bulletin came on the air. He heard the announcer saying, “Motion picture star Dorothy Winters, German industrialist Johannes Dietrich and pilot Tim Farley crashed in a blizzard leaving Aspen Colorado this morning. All are believed to be dead. We will give more information on the crash when it is received. We now return you to your regular programming.”

  Clint froze.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Tana?.. it’s Clint … I’m in trouble,” said Clint, his voice barely audible. Come over to the house … Dorothy’s … dead.”

  “What! I’ll be right there, dahlin.”

  The phone rang and rang. He didn’t answer it. He felt weak.

  He wanted to get up but fell back on the bed. His thoughts were on Dorothy. Why was I so tough on her? Why? Why? I loved her …

  I really loved her, the fucked life I lead … his thoughts went home to the ranch when he was young … Ma was right, I should have stayed in Montana.

  He remembered how he used to break horses. How the neighbors would bring their wild horses they couldn’t break to his da
d’s ranch.

  They’d say, “Clint’s the only kid in these parts that can get on that mare. Give her to Clint, he’ll break her,” he’d heard them say. His dreams of coming to Hollywood to be somebody. Was he somebody? he asked himself. Some people might think so. But I’m miserable. The town is miserable. Everyone’s insecure. Nothing’s real and I’m the sham, a facade. I could go back home. I got enough money to buy a ranch, run some cattle. Nah. How could I lived there again after I’ve lived here … I’m stuck in Hollywood. What will I do without Dorothy?

  Tana arrived. It was too early for her. Her eyes were still puffy. She rang and rang the bell, no answer. She walked to the back of the house by the pool and saw a window open. She pulled it ajar so she could get her long legs through and crawled in. She walked through the house checking the rooms. When she got to Clint’s bedroom she saw him lying on the bed, his face in the pillow.

  “Clint, it’s me. I heard the news on the radio.”

  “I need you, Tana. I feel so alone. I need your sympathy.” Tana sat down next to Clint on the bed. She held his hand.

  “My life’s so fucked. Georgia killed. Now Dorothy. I made her get on the plane. I blame myself. I could have worked something out with the studio, but I insisted she come today.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself, sugar. How could you know about the storm? I flew with Johannes. He knows his airplane. He was a good pilot … don’t blame yourself. It was an accident.”

  Tana put her hand on Clint’s forehead and pushed his hair back.

  “Leave town for awhile. Go home to your family … You never take a vacation … See them. They love you, I’m sure.” The phone started to ring. Tana picked it up. “Are you here?” Clint shook his head.

  “Hello … Dorothy! You’re supposed to be dead!”

  Clint jumped from bed and grabbed the phone … ”Dorothy? I love you, baby … Tell me again it’s you.”

  “It’s me, Clint. I’ve been trying to call you. I wasn’t on the airplane when it went down. I made Johannes let me off. I had this terrible intuition the plane would go down. I tried to warn Johannes, but he wouldn’t listen. He thought I was nuts. My name was on the passenger manifest, so everyone thought I was dead too. You were right about Johannes. He wasn’t for me. I would have been miserable with him.

  May he rest in peace.”

  “The studio and your fans must be having a heart attack. I was about to abandon Hollywood and go back to Montana,” said Clint.

  “You?”

  “Yeah, me,” said Clint.

  “Can you imagine,” said Dorothy. “I was thought to be dead and come back to life all in one day. My picture is all over the papers and on television. I’m more famous for my death than I ever was for my work. I’ve become a household name. You’ll be able to get me a higher price for my next picture.”

  “I know for sure I’m talking to you, Dorothy. It’s the buck you’re always thinking about.”

  “You got that right, cowboy. I’ll be in Los Angeles tonight.”

  When Dorothy returned from Aspen, a message to call Kenny O’

  Donnell, at the White House, was on her answering service.

  She called O’Donnell back and he told her the rendezvous with the President had changed. She found out later that Bobby Kennedy didn’t like the idea that JFK should stay at Sinatra’s house, because of his association with the mob. He made him change houses. She was to go to Bing Crosby’s house instead and be there between eleven-thirty and twelve AM.

  Dorothy thought, if the FBI checked my background I wouldn’t have been asked. She wondered how long she’d be able to keep her affair with JFK going before they got on to her. She hoped she’d have some time with him. She loved his sexiness and the power be represented. I bet he’ll be amused when he finds out that Dorothy Winters, the movie star, has been the girlfriend of the mob and spent almost two years in jail. Only in Hollywood could such a farce happen, she thought and laughed.

  Dorothy left Beverly Hills early Saturday morning. She hadn’t told Clint or anyone where she was going.

  She arrived at the address Kenny O’Donnell had given her. The secret servicemen stood at the front gate. She drove her car into the driveway and stopped. The guard recognized and greeted her. Another secret serviceman rolled a device under her car. And another guard called into the house for clearance.

  “What are they putting under my car?” she asked.

  “It’s a bomb detector,” he answered. Word came back from the house to let her in. The gate opened and they waved her through. The driveway was full of cars, which made it difficult to park. The house was a one-story low rambling stucco structure, with a wall surrounding and a white stone roof. She rang the front door and the butler let her in.

  “Hello, Miss Winters. You’re expected at the pool. Through those sliding glass doors,” he said pointing to the other end of the living room.

  Dorothy walked through the living room, and went out to the pool. A party was going on. Kenny O’ Donnell came to her and introduced himself.

  “Miss Winters, it’s a pleasure to meet you. The President will be out shortly,” he said. “You can change your clothes in the pool house. Did you bring a bathing suit?” She nodded.

  She recognized Porifiro Rubirosa. He was in a bathing suit and had a deep tan. He gave her a big toothy smile. Clint had told her about Dawn Summer’s hair, in Washington. She didn’t like him and wondered why the President would have a man like him around so much.

  “Well, we meet again. How nice,” Rubirosa said as he reached for Dorothy’s hand and kissed it.

  A tall woman who looked to be a New York model came to be introduced. Dorothy said hello and went into the pool house to change. She put on the bikini she had just bought. The clerk in the store told her it was from Rio and made a joke about its brevity that someone refereed to it as the “dental floss bikini.” Dorothy gazed in a mirror and turned around to examine herself. Her body was perfect for the suit. Very few women would look good in this, she thought. Only if you’re sixteen.

  When she went back to the pool she got lots of looks and smiles. She noticed as she sat down, pool furniture was in the pool. Someone has been having a good time, she thought.

  It was one of those perfect Palm Springs days. Hot and dry. The sun shone directly overhead and the guests sat around in their bathing suits getting California sun on their pale Washington bodies. A Filipino houseboy brought her a tall tropical drink. It tasted delicious. She could feel the alcohol on her first sip. She finished the drink and ordered another. The warm effects of the drinks made her feel happy and a little wicked. She thought, I’m going to have a good time today.

  The President came out of the house followed by Peter Lawford.

  They walked over to her as she lay on a lounge. Both were in bathing suits. Dorothy noticed that Jack had a skin-colored back-brace strapped around his waist. She remembered he wore the brace the night at the White House. He had told her he had a back injury, but she couldn’t remember the circumstances. All she knew was his back caused him great pain and he always had to wear it for support and comfort. She remembered it was an obstacle in their lovemaking.

  “I’m glad to see you’re alive,” he said. She heard the comment from everybody. “Have you met my brother-in-law, Peter Lawford?” he asked taking her hand and holding it.

  “Yes, Peter and I have met,” she said. Peter, she thought, still looks wonderful and handsome. She remembered their little fling; she had turned him on him to grass. She heard he now smoked it constantly. He knows a lot about me, but he’s too cool and would never tell Jack of their relationship, she hoped.

  “Do you still live at the same place in Los Angeles?” asked Peter.

  She loved his voice. It was the British accent.

  “No, I live in Beverly Hills, now. I’d love to work with you, Peter.

  Let’s see if our agents can find a script for us to do. It would be fun to do a comedy.”

  “Now wa
it a minute, you two. Dorothy, you came to see me. I think I better get you away from Peter. I know he has a way with the ladies,” said Jack with a smile. He pulled up a lounge and lay next to Dorothy, glancing up to see where the sun was. He removed his sunglasses and fell back on the lounge to let the sun shine on his face.

  Peter went to the bar to get a drink. Dorothy felt sexy. The liquor had taken the tension away and she felt relaxed with JFK. They lay quietly letting the sun tan their bodies. JFK turned to Dorothy and took her hand and held it. Dorothy gazed into his clear blue eyes. She wanted him to hold and to make love to her. She could tell, he had gotten her message.

  “Let’s you and me go in the pool house,” he said in a low appealing voice. She nodded and they got up and went inside and closed the door.

  The guests around the pool glanced at each other with a knowing smile.

  “I wonder how she likes getting laid on a board?” said one of the President’s aides to another as they lay soaking up the sun.

  “Why don’t you ask her when she comes out,” said the other.

  “I’ll do that.”

  “Marilyn never complained. What do you think of this one?”

  “She’s got a better body, and she looks to me she knows more about a prick than Bulova knows about a wrist watch.”

  Inside the pool-house Dorothy and JFK lay on a double lounge holding hands.

  “Jack, I’m so happy you wanted to see me again. I’ve been dreaming about you and I being together. You bring out the juiciest in me.

  I’ve been thinking since your phone call of what I’m going to do to you. Shall I go on?”

  “Please do.”

  “You’re the most attractive man in the United States and also the President, which makes you doubly irresistible. And to find a woman like me as a plaything, and I’m not kidding myself. I am that to you.”

  “You could be my mistress. A plaything is like a one night stand.