[Celebrity Murder Case 04] - The Talking Pictures Murder Case Read online

  Bertha Graze was on the phone with William Haines “But, darling, as I just finished explaining to poor Ramon, those boys fooled me too! I had no idea they were under eighteen You have to admit they looked older than that. Now don’t be a fool, Billy boy, you have to give me the money to give to them or they'll go blabbing it all over Hollywood. Ramon's already on the way here with the cash You know he keeps a lot on hand for emergencies in the strongbox under his mother's bed.” Her voice coarsened “Listen, Haines, if Louis B Mayer hears of this indiscretion, you're through in pictures “ Haines said something nasty and then told her he needed time to get the sum she requested “All right, dear, just as long as I get it by tomorrow morning.”

  She hung up the phone, chomped down on a bar of chocolate stuffed with almonds, and pondered who she’d select as her next blackmail victim. The phone rang and she said sweetly, “Bertha Graze here Why, hello dear. Yes, I heard the radio. Poor Alicia Leddy Helen Roland must be relieved. Oh yes, I know Helen doesn't have a vindictive bone in her body, but still, they do say a woman scorned could be a vessel of wrath “ She gave her mouth a rest as she listened. Then she gasped “Annamary's replacing Leddy?” She listened again as a sly smile began to emerge “Well well well. So the Darlings reign at Diamond once again How marvellous. Come around tomorrow for your money, dear I can see we're going to work together marvelously, Upland”

  TEN

  Detective Jim Mallory, with the aid of an assistant director, combed the set of Daughter of the Casbah but could find no musketeer The A D kept reminding Mallory, “I tell you there's no musketeer on the costume manifest. Maybe he's working some other set”

  “This is a masquerade party, right?”

  “This is one mess of a masquerade party, buddy.”

  “Who's the hunchbacked old lady over there drinking the Coke?”

  “That's our leading lady, Lotus Fairweather .”

  “Oh. Who's the dwarf standing next to her?”

  “That's our leading man, Donald Carewe.”

  “Those two are the stars?”

  “Yeah, but they sing real good.”

  “What's the name of this turkey?”

  “Daughter of the Casbah “

  “What's a Casbah?”

  “I think it's some kind of a melon “

  “”Daughter of the Melon?”

  The A D said wearily, “Mister, I only work here. Now, will you take my word for it, we got no musketeer.”

  Jim Mallory found Villon and Hazel walking toward the executive building and reported there was no musketeer.

  “I didn't think you'd find him,” said Villon

  “Then why'd you send me hunting for him?”

  “In case I was wrong.”

  Hazel asked, “Do you think that might have been Leddy's killer?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  An automobile horn warned them to move aside. The Darlings' limousine snaked past them. Hazel recognized the human cargo on the backseats. “Well, as I live and breathe, it's Marie Darling and company I always figured if she buried the hatchet with Alex Roland, it would be in his skull “

  Villon said, “Henry Turk wanted Annamary to replace Leddy. I guess he convinced Roland.”

  Alexander Roland emerged from the executive building to greet Marie and her stars He had been alerted by the guard at the gate that their limousine had arrived. Upland, doubling as chauffeur, held the back door open and Roland reached in to assist Marie from the vehicle. His cheek sideswiped hers, and when Annamary moved into his outstretched arms, he kissed her with genuine affection.

  “Touching,” commented Hazel, struggling to keep a straight face.

  “I hate to tell you where it grabs me,” said Villon. Marie espied Villon and her morning anger at him resurfaced. Confronting him, she said venomously, “You promised not to blow the lid off Dolly’s bigamy. How dare you cross me up?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Bullshit!”

  “I broke that story, Mrs. Darling.” Hazel feared no woman

  “And who are you?” blazed Marie

  “Hazel Dickson, reporter.”

  “Reporter,” scoffed Marie “There are three things that can walk under coffee tables without injuring their heads—dachshunds, politicians, and reporters.” She pivoted around and returned to her group, who were being ushered into the building by Roland

  “Charming,” said Hazel. “I'm sure she sleeps on a bed of nails. Comfortably “

  “This is obviously no time to try and have a chat with Alexander Roland “

  “I thought you said all you had to say back in Leddy's bungalow “

  “Oh no, he was in a rush to check on the picture's insurance and I decided he'd be no use to me until he got his priorities settled. I suppose he thinks he’s in good shape now that he's got Annamary to replace Leddy. I wonder how he managed it.”

  “He couldn’t have sold his soul. He doesn't own one.”

  “You're a hard woman, Dickson I'm going back to the bungalow for another look around “

  “I thought you already gave it a thorough going-over.”

  “It wouldn’t hurt to go through it again. You don't have to join me if you've got better things to do.”

  “You don’t get rid of me that easily, Herbert.” She smartly fell into place between Villon and Jim Mallory and they walked briskly to the murder scene.

  One could almost feel the heat of activity in Alexander Roland's office. Ethel Swift, the costume designer, arrived to escort Annamary for her fittings. After the customary hugs and kisses and squealings they were accompanied to the wardrobe department by Henry Turk, who was reading a script of The Bride Wore Sneakers aloud to Annamary while on the trot. Willis, realizing he was along only for moral support, wandered over to sound-stage 5 when he heard Jason Cutts say they were filming a masquerade party with lots of pretty extras. Marie and Jack remained behind with Roland so Marie could tell the mogul the plot of Margin for Terror. Listening, Jack remembered it was a script she had commissioned several years back, which for one reason or another never made it to the screen. Marie was a good story-teller and the plot held up well. It would need dialogue and Jack decided he would write that himself. Roland agreed with Marie that Jack as a Bluebeard type would be an excellent transition from his plethora of country yokel roles. Roland elaborated for them a new physical look for Jack to go with the role: slicked-back hair, a pencil-thin mustache, a goatee. He decided Jack would be surrounded with a supporting cast of women recently brought from the East and from London. Jack studied Roland as the rhetoric flowed from his mouth like a destructive flow of volcanic lava consuming anything in its wake Jack had never liked him. In the five years that he had starred for Roland, he always felt he was making films not because of his talent but because Roland felt he had to use him to keep Marie from defecting with Annamary and Willis. Jack had never reached his box-office potential as predicted by Marie. He was popular enough—his films mostly made a profit—but he hadn't reached the superstar status of his sister and his brother-in-law. Haggling over casting rights for Jack, his mother and Roland reminded him of two spitting cats on a backyard fence clawing at each other with arguments. He knew they thrived on this unbecoming behaviour. It was part of the moviemaking game. Constant disagreement, constant discord, constant jockeying for position. In the end, he knew, they would compromise and then retreat to their corners, waiting for the bell to announce the start of the next round

  “I should phone and cancel Goldwyn,” said Jack.

  “That can wait,” snapped Marie.

  “I don't think it should, “ insisted Jack. “It was generous of him to consider me when no one else in this town cared “

  Jason Cutts entered and interrupted “Mr Roland, Jay Mack in insurance “

  “Excuse me,” said Roland to the ceiling as he picked up the phone “Jay? What's the story?” He listened. “What the hell do you mean we aren't sufficiently covered?” Roland found a handkerchief a
nd wiped the beads of perspiration forming on his forehead. He realized Marie's eyes were drilling into his face. “Jay, I’ll call you back in fifteen minutes. I'm in the middle of a conference.” He hung up.

  Marie barked, “Isn't there enough to cover Annamary?”

  “This has nothing to do with Annamary,” he lied. “I've got six other pictures shooting. This transition from silents to talkers is a killer. Do you know what it's costing to soundproof the stages? The recording equipment? New lighting boards to accommodate the new film we need to record sound waves? It's brutal, I tell you, brutal And the banks want their pounds of flesh. The hell with it. I’ll go with Margin for Terror as Jack's first talker “

  “I want to write the dialogue and direct it.”

  Roland groaned “Now, come on, boy, you'll have enough to do adjusting to the new sound techniques. Write the dialogue, okay, but act and direct? Impossible!”

  Jack stood up, truly the boy on the burning deck. “I direct too or I'm going to Sam Goldwyn.”

  Roland fought hard to refrain from telling him to go to hell. He'd never liked the young man, whose presence on the lot he had endured to keep Marie happy and not chance losing Annamary and Willis. He found Jack to be unclean and perverse, and never could understand why a clever, promising youngster like Dolly Lovelace had ever consented to marry him. Dabbing at his brow, he urged Marie, “You've got to make him listen to reason. Talkers aren't easy. The microphones are stationary and it's up to the cutters to try to give the films some movement. Marie, please. I've agreed to just about everything you've wanted but this is going too far.”

  “Jack, dearest, “ said Marie in the tone of voice she'd used to get him to leave Dolly Lovelace, “Alex will let you direct your next picture, won't you, Alex?” Roland pursed his lips but said nothing “I have to agree with him. It's important you concentrate on your acting this time. You'll have words to memorize. You never had to do that before.”

  Roland chimed in “It's a whole new crap shoot, Jack It's not like the silents when you could move your lips and say nothing and to hell with the lip readers. We shoot longer scenes now, and it takes concentration to know your lines and your moves and the location of the microphones. And that's not all. There's no more of that staying up and playing into all hours of the night and not worrying about what time you arrive on the set the next morning. In talkers we arrive at the studio no later than seven a.m. and stay until God knows what time. Listen to me, Jack, we're all of us underequipped. We don't have enough sound equipment yet and not enough technicians have been trained. That’s why we're shooting around the clock. We have to shoot when we can use the equipment.”

  Jack crossed one leg over the other. “I've got it all worked out in my head. I'm going to revolutionize the talkers I'm going to show you how to make the microphones mobile.”

  Rolands blood was boiling He pushed his chair away from the desk and was on his feet pacing and punishing the air with his hands He might have been drying nail polish. “He's going to revolutionize the talkers. He's going to show us how to make the microphones mobile. You some kind of a Houdini you can make the damn things float through the air?”

  “I'm going to put them on fishing rods.”

  Roland screwed up his face Marie looked from one to the other. Was this really her Jack talking? Had he thought of this all by himself? He who had yet to master the new dial telephone

  “It’ll work,” persisted Jack “And I want to write the dialogue because I don't want too much of it. Just because pictures are talking doesn't mean they have to talk you to death. And you won't have to suffocate the camera operator by enclosing him in a booth with the camera to muffle the noise. You can shoot silent and add the sound later, so the camera can become fluid again. What I'm telling you, Alex, is that I plan to unchain the talkers.”

  Roland went back to his chair After a moment's thought, he said.”I'il think about it I have to discuss it with the technicians. Oh my God, all this and there's a murderer on the loose.”

  “Of course,” said Marie, “that poor Leddy girl.”

  “She was strangled with her scarf,” said Jack.

  “How awful! But why?”

  “Who knows?” said Roland. “It seems to me murdering her was totally pointless. She had no known enemies, she wasn't in Hollywood long enough to acquire any.“

  “Tell that to the marines. The minute you step off the train in this town you’ve got enemies. Dolly used to say she had enemies she’d never been introduced to. There, you see? Why should she have been murdered? Because she was a bigamist? Because everybody spread the rumor she had black blood. Don't shush me, Mama, you were one of the worst offenders and you're not even ashamed of yourself.“

  “How dare you talk to me like that!” Marie bristled. “I did what I thought was right for you and I haven't done so badly either, damn you! You should be grateful you're sitting in this office and being given the opportunity of a whole new career!”

  'That's right, “ said Roland, wishing he could be rid of the two of them and talking to Jay Mack in insurance.

  “Ahhhh, you both make me sickl” Jack shouted and stormed out of the office, slamming the door shut behind him.

  “I don't know what's gotten into him lately,” raged Marie. “Ever since Dolly's death, he's a changed boy.”

  “He's no longer a boy, Marie “

  “Well, whatever he is, he's changed, and I don't like the change one bit!” The chameleon's tone softened “Oh, let him direct the movie, you can assign someone you trust to be with him through the shoot.”

  Roland clasped his hands together and leaned across the desk. “I can’t afford to take any risks, Marie. I’m up to my ears in trouble You know it. Of course you know it. Everyone in this damned place knows it, and they're all gloating. The vultures are circling and waiting to pick at my carcass.” He pushed himself back 'Well, they're going to have a long wait. I’ll sleep on it, Marie, I’ll tell Jack tomorrow.” Grudgingly he added, “Those ideas of his are interesting. They're bold and maybe that's what the industry needs. Ah, who the hell knows. Christ, Leddy's family. I wonder if anyone’s notified Leddy's family.” He buzzed and Jason Cutts came hurrying in.

  After hearing what was on Roland's mind, Jason told him Leddy’s agent was in touch with her family. “He also wants her full week's salary. A deal is a deal. Well, that's what he said!” He fled as Roland flung a pencil at him.

  Marie stood up, preparing to depart “I'd better see what's happening with Annamary in wardrobe. You really like Margin for Terror?”

  Roland nodded. He was staring ahead, glassy-eyed. Marie left and when he heard the door close, he emitted an agonized sob “Alicia,” he whispered, “poor Alicia.”

  * * *

  Erskine Simpson-Thwaite sat in a booth in the Hollywood Brown Derby restaurant with actress Hedda Hopper “I hope you know I'm not picking up the tab,” he warned her.

  “Oh, all right, Ernie, well go dutch.”

  He was aghast “I can't even do that!”

  “Ah, damn it, I’ll do it but don't order expensive.”

  “Well, after all, you did ask me out “

  “You phoned me, I didn't phone you. Where are you living?”

  “In this dreadful boardinghouse. I've been all morning registering with agencies seeking a new position, but it seems everybody's hiring their butlers these days.”

  “Yes, you boys are becoming as obsolete as title writers. That uproar you hear is the tightening of belts around the waist.” A bitter woman who had never achieved the success as an actress she fantasized as her due, Hedda had a sharp, acrid voice. She'd been married to a great stage star and monologist, DeWolf Hopper, the father of her son, but after the divorce she had sought a career in films. Stardom eluded her but she was serviceable playing aunts, bitchy sisters, elegant society women. She had managed to cultivate several powerful friends, among them Louis B Mayer, who saw to it that she was fairly steadily employed at MGM. She augmented that income by
gathering and selling gossip to the highest bidder while dreaming of having her own syndicated gossip column some day.

  Erskine was excoriating Bertha Graze. Hedda agreed with him. “Bertha's heading for a fall,” predicted Hopper. “She’s gotten too brazen and cocksure. She's made a lot of dangerous enemies.”

  “I hope she gets hers, and I hope she gets it soon.”

  “What have you got for me?” The waiter brought them menus. When he departed, Erskine spoke

  “Willis Loring had an affair with Dolly Lovelace while she was married to Jack Darling.”

  “Affair, dear, or a quickie when Jack wasn't looking?”

  “It was more than once I know that for sure.”

  “Well, I’ll put it under my hat. Dolly’s fresh news until they come up with her killer.”

  “What about all these murders all of a sudden?” asked Erskine, looking and sounding like somebody’s maiden aunt “Do you suppose there's a connection between the three of them?”

  “Like what? Leddy was newly arrived in town. I doubt she ever got to meet Dolly or her phony father.”

  “She met Jack Darling.” Hopper was interested. “Yesterday at the Diamond studio I overheard him on the phone telling a friend he’d met this hot dish and lunched with her and a friend “

  “Who was the friend?”

  “He didn't mention a name. But I gathered it was female and an actress working on the lot.”

  “Okay, Ernie, that's worth working on.”

  He asked eagerly, “It's worth the lunch, isn’t it?” He was pathetic and her heart of steel almost softened and buckled.

  Instead she glanced at the menu and said, “Let's both have the special. It's the cheapest “ She signaled the waiter, who hurried to the table, took the order, and then left. Erskine was gently blowing his nose and Hedda looked at him with pity. She said, “Where did it all go wrong, Ernie? You had it all going for you twenty years ago “