“Then I’ll come alone but packing heat.”
“I really appreciate this, Grant.”
“What are old friends for?”
* * *
Josie had been a fan of classic Hollywood her entire life, so when she and Dora walked onto the Columbia Pictures lot on Sunset Boulevard, she was…extremely disappointed. “This place is a dump,” she said, as she looked at the boxy buildings scattered among about a dozen soundstages. “I always thought there’d be cute little bungalows, and actors dressed as cowboys and gangsters walking around.” She looked over to where an overly made-up woman was wearing a garish dress with a high slit. “Although I guess she’s dressed like a prostitute.”
Dora glanced at the woman. “She may actually be a prostitute. If you want glamour, go to MGM or Warner. If you want the business of show business, the nitty gritty side of it, you come here. Believe it or not, it used to be even worse before It Happened One Night put this place on the map.”
“I love that movie!” said Josie. “If I weren’t afraid to time travel ever again, I’d come back here to watch them make it. Is there a chance we’re going to get mugged here?” Most of the people walking by looked like they hadn’t slept or eaten in a while.
“We should be safe, but keep your purse close. You’re going to love Blake,” she said, as they made their way through a narrow maze of alleys, dodging bikes as they went.
“How did you two meet?”
“It was, nauseatingly enough, like something out of a movie. I was on a picket line and took an unscheduled break to have a cigarette.”
“Please tell me you’ll stop smoking. It can kill you.”
“Yet every time I try to quit, I feel like I want to die.”
“Please, Dora, please?”
“I’ll try.”
“Thank you.”
“Now, where was I?”
“A nauseating ‘meet cute’ like something out of a movie,” said Josie.
“I found a quiet spot away from the picket line where I could smoke and rest my feet – if you’re going to walk a picket line, dress for comfort not style. I struck a match but dropped it. However, this dashing man gave me a light and we’ve been an item ever since.”
“Was he also on the picket line?” asked Josie, as they stood by the door of a soundstage, where a revolving red light meant they were shooting inside.
“No. He didn’t know anything at all about communism, other than the propaganda he’d read in the newspapers. He was a struggling actor at the time. To tell the truth, he still struggles a bit, though he’s getting better known by the day. However, once I told him a bit about the cause and flirted madly, he was intrigued enough to come to a meeting. It didn’t hurt when I said it’d give him the chance to meet a lot of influential men in Hollywood.”
“I’m sure it also didn’t hurt that you were wearing your cute shoes.”
Dora grinned. “I don’t think it worked against me.” The light stopped revolving, then a bell sounded twice, meaning it was safe to enter the stage.
It took a moment for Josie’s eyes to adjust to the dim recesses of the soundstage, though several crew members were opening the giant elephant doors, which flooded the place with light. They were shooting a screwball comedy and the stage had been dressed to look like a courtroom. Two crew members in wool trousers, dress shirts and ties were walking a catwalk high above them to adjust the giant lights hanging over the stage. A wardrobe assistant was wheeling a rack of costumes toward the elephant doors and three men were positioning a huge camera.
“Dora!”
They looked over to see a tall, handsome man in his mid-30s approaching. He had blond hair, a thin but toned build, and was grinning at Dora. “What have you told him about David and me?” asked Josie quietly.
“That you’re good friends we don’t see enough of,” said Dora, “which is the truth.” She kissed Blake, then introduced him to Josie.
“It’s great to meet you,” said Blake. “Would you like to grab some coffee? They also have plenty of food and they don’t ask questions if you take some home.”
“Blake spent a while as a starving actor,” said Dora fondly, as they walked toward the craft service table.
He laughed. “Sometimes I can’t believe I’m really being paid to act. When I see free food, my first instinct is still to take it. Though these days I usually end up giving it away to the poor souls on the streets. Are things this bad where you live, Josie?”
Josie had to tread lightly because she didn’t know that much about how things were during the Great Depression. “I think things are rough all over. Were you an actor before you moved to Hollywood?”
“According to the reviews, some would say I’m not an actor now,” said Blake with a laugh.
Dora squeezed his hand. “You’re being unfair to yourself. That was one cranky reviewer who hates Harry Cohn.” She turned to Josie to explain. “He’s the head of Columbia Pictures.”
“You don’t follow Hollywood?” Blake asked her.
“I’m more interested in the movies, than the studios behind them. So, you weren’t an actor before this?”
“I did a few Sunday school plays a long time ago, but I never thought of being an actor professionally. I took odd jobs after high school, then rode the rails and ended up here, mostly because it was the end of the line. Dora sure has been helpful in introducing me to people. Any success I have, I owe to her.”
“I may have introduced you to a few people, but your talent is what’s getting you cast.”
“You’re a very sweet woman, Dora Barnes,” he said, as he gave her a kiss, then put his arm around her waist.
Josie was touched by the genuine affection between them. “Blake, we were hoping you’d do us a favor. There’s a woman we’d like to learn more about, and I think she’s already suspicious of us. But she might let her guard down around a nice handsome actor.”
“What exactly do you want me to do?” asked Blake warily. “Dora’s my girlfriend, so I can’t pretend to like this other woman.”
“I like the way you think, darling, but we need your help,” said Dora. “We believe this woman is a Nazi spy.”
“Then I really can’t pretend to like her because I’m not that good of an actor. If you ask me, every single one of the Germans in town should be sent back home. I don’t trust any of them.”
“Are you around them a lot?” asked Josie.
Blake nodded. “I volunteer at some of the same bread lines where I used to get my meals. A lot of Germans drop by and try to stir up trouble.”
“How so?” asked Josie.
Blake looked uncomfortable. “I’d rather not say.”
“Let me guess,” said Dora. “Does it have anything to do with the so-called ‘Jewish menace?’”
From Blake’s look, it did. “You can’t listen to that garbage.”
“I’ve heard it all before, and not just from Germans. You’ve seen Kurt Franklin’s girlfriend in the fan magazines. Did you ever see her talking to the people in the bread lines?”
Blake shook his head. “I don’t think so, but I only volunteer once a week. Is that who you want me to meet, Kurt Franklin’s girlfriend? Why?”
Dora looked at Josie, wondering just how much they should disclose.
Josie ducked out of the way of two workers carrying flagpoles. “We know how influential Kurt is and we think it’d be a shame if his girlfriend used his fame to spread her propaganda.”
“Have you talked to Kurt about it?” asked Blake.
“We tried,” said Dora, “but he didn’t quite get the point.”
“Actors aren’t always the smartest people around,” said Blake. “I work with enough of them to know. I can try talking to him. I mean, I’ve only met him once, but maybe I can convince him it’s not good for his career to be seen with her.”
“That’s a great idea,” said Dora. “Do you want me to come with you?”
“I think it might work better man to man,
actor to actor.”
Dora nodded. “In other words, you’re going to tell him how much more fun it is to be single and play the field.”
“It will be my greatest acting job,” said Blake as he kissed Dora, then grinned sheepishly at Josie. “Sorry. Sometimes I just can’t resist kissing her.”
“I wouldn’t even try to,” said Josie, happy that her friend had found love at last.
“I’ll definitely work on Kurt,” said Blake, “but what do you really know about Greta? Do you think you should hire someone to follow her?”
“That’s a great idea,” said Josie, “though we’re trying to keep this to ourselves as much as possible. Maybe I’ll follow Greta to see what she’s up to. If we get enough proof, the LAPD has to listen to me.”
“You’ve gone to the police about this?” asked Blake.
“Yeah, for what little good it did. They’re now more suspicious of me than the Nazis. But if you work on Kurt and I spy on Greta maybe we can take care of this thing once and for all.”
“I’m up for anything,” said Blake.
“And that, dear boy,” said Dora, “is one of the many things I love about you.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Gee whiz it’s good to see you,” said Grant Barker, as the bear of a man hugged David in the foyer of Lawrence’s house, then did the same to Josie. “I can’t believe you two are married. You’re Mr. and Mrs. Remington.”
“Technically, I’m still Josie Matthews,” said Josie as she kissed Grant on the cheek.
“What do you mean?” he asked. “Are you married, or aren’t you?”
“We are,” said Josie. “But in my day, some married women keep their name.”
Grant looked at David in disbelief. “That’s the craziest thing I’ve heard of since, well, time travel.”
“That’s because you’ve never seen reality TV,” said David. “How is Lydia?”
“She’s great. Here’s a picture of her and the boys,” he said as he handed David a picture from his wallet.
David studied the photo, suddenly aware of how much he’d missed. “They look just like you as a kid.”
“No need to insult them!” said Grant with a grin, though he, too, was overcome with emotion.
“Well, fortunately, Lydia’s good looks will ensure they grow up to be handsome men,” said David grinning, as he returned the picture. “I’m glad you two finally found each other. There’s nothing more important than true love.”
“You’re right about that and I’m glad it happened for you, as well. Keep the picture. Take it back to the future with you as a reminder of all of us back home.”
“This is an amazing bromance,” said Josie, touched by what she was seeing.
“A what?” asked Grant.
“Trust me when I say it’s a good thing, but impossible to explain,” said David. “Settle in, then come out to the pool with Lawrence and Dora. We’ll bring you up to speed.”
As Grant left to find his room, David looked at the picture again.
“I’m sorry this is hard for you,” said Josie. “You had to give up lifelong friends when you followed me to the future.”
“But I got you in return,” he said as he kissed her. “A once in a lifetime love is worth the sacrifices.”
Twenty minutes later they were all poolside, sipping the drinks Eduardo had just poured. Once he’d left, Josie turned to Grant. “How is Mikey Corrigan?”
“He and Lizzie love Florida. And as far as I know he’s settled into retirement pretty well, though he takes quite a few trips to Havana and I don’t think it’s just for the cigars. Tell me what’s so important that you had to come back in time. David was a bit cryptic on the phone.”
“I was afraid we might be overheard.”
“Good instincts. Hoover taps phone lines like Fred Astaire taps a dance floor. Why don’t you fill me in, now?”
David and Josie told him in broad terms how history had changed and how they suspected there was a plot by Greta to manipulate the American public. Grant listened, asked a few questions, and then nodded. “Leave it to Kurt to get involved with a Nazi. I’m not saying we should’ve let him die at that party, but an incapacitating blow to the head wouldn’t have been the worst thing. What’s your plan?”
“Well,” said Josie, glancing at David, “the local police don’t seem inclined to go after the Nazis here in town, so we were hoping you would. Can’t you arrest them for something?”
“Unfortunately, we can’t arrest them for their political beliefs, as repugnant as I find them.”
“They’re about to start a World War and commit incredible atrocities.”
Grant grimaced. “That doesn’t surprise me. Hitler doesn’t want peace, no matter what he’s trying to sell the British. But, unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do about the jackasses here in town who are braying their ignorance for all the world to hear.”
“Unfortunately, it’s not just talk,” said Lawrence. “Some of my friends have been accosted by the Silver Shirts.”
“I’m very sorry to hear that. But even then it’s not a federal matter, but one for the police.”
“The police can be just as bad,” said Lawrence. “Trust me, I know.”
Dora held his hand. “There must be something we can do.”
Grant took another sip of his drink. “There’s one thing you and Lawrence can both do. And that’s stay clear of communist meetings. Hoover’s convinced Hollywood is filled with communists and he’s dispatched a number of agents to investigate.”
“I thought you said the FBI doesn’t investigate people for their political beliefs,” said Dora.
“They’re not supposed to, officially. But all bets are off when it comes to communists. It’s Hoover’s personal crusade and he’s been obsessed with them ever since the anarchist bombings back in ‘19.”
“Would you arrest us if you learned we were communists?” asked Lawrence.
“Me, no. But there’s no telling what the Bureau will end up doing. Now that I’m in town, they want me to check in with the Los Angeles office. Back in San Fran, we heard word that something big was about to happen here, but they were playing it very close to the vest.”
“Aren’t you all on the same side?” asked Dora.
“You’d be surprised by just how many sides the Bureau has. For my part, I try to keep out of politics and concentrate on getting real criminals. But orders are orders. I figure I can do what they ask me here and also have a look at what they might have on Kurt Franklin’s Nazi girlfriend. Did you see that musical he was in last year?” Grant shuddered. “It was like cats mating with more cats. Now let’s get to work on getting rid of those Nazis.”
* * *
“Gee whiz,” said Kurt Franklin, as he looked out at the expanse of golf course in front of him. “I didn’t even know Los Angeles had a valley and now here we are. When do you think we can go back to town?”
Kurt, David, Lawrence and Blake were playing golf at the Hollywood Hills Country Club in Studio City. In Josie’s day, the country club was long gone and had been replaced by homes and a prep school. But in 1936, it was remote and involved a trip through a bumpy, dusty canyon.
Kurt teed off with the ability of a natural athlete. “I don’t understand the point of this game,” he said, squinting at the course ahead of them. “I can’t even see my ball. I don’t find that very relaxing.”
“The point,” said Lawrence, as he took his turn, “is to get so frustrated with the game that you relax when you stop.”
“More specifically when you stop and drink,” said Blake. “For me, I just like doing something I normally can’t afford to do.”
“I remember those days in my career,” said Kurt as he put on his sunglasses. “If given a choice between starving actor and movie star, go with movie star.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Blake, who took his shot then grimaced.
“So, what’d you want to talk to me about?” asked Kurt as they all walk
ed down the course, their caddies far enough behind them that they wouldn’t overhear.
“It’s about Greta,” said David. “I know you said she’s not a Nazi, but do you know that for sure?”
“It’s what she said.”
Lawrence waved at an associate in passing. “I hate to break this to you, Kurt, but sometimes people lie.”
“Sometimes women lie,” said Blake.
“But she’s so…pretty.”
Blake put his hand on Kurt’s shoulder. “I know it’s hard to believe, but even the pretty ones lie.”
“What do you really know about her, Kurt?” asked David.
“I know she’s blonde.”
“Sometimes you don’t even know that for sure,” said Lawrence.
“True enough,” said Kurt, nodding. “But she lives in the Hollywood Hills, she likes to hike, and she’s involved with the German American League. I’ve gone to a few events with her there. They have good beer.”
“And do they ever ask you to do anything for them?” asked David.
“Well, this one time they asked me to help move a keg into place.”
“Anything besides the keg?”
“Nope, that was it. I mean, they did ask me to go back to Berlin and film a movie, but that’s not a favor, it’s work.”
“That’s interesting,” said Lawrence. “What did you tell them?”
“I told them I’m under contract, so they’ll have to get permission from the studio.”
Lawrence cleared his throat. “Kurt, I don’t think doing a movie in Nazi Germany is a good career move. It certainly isn’t a very good thing to do as a person who opposes fascism. You do oppose fascism, don’t you?”
“Of course!”
“Do you know what fascism is?” asked Blake.
From Kurt’s look of confusion, it was obvious he didn’t. But after a tutorial from Lawrence and Blake which lasted two holes, Kurt finally had somewhat of an idea of what it was. “I certainly don’t like the sound of that, especially if fascists are against homosexuals and Jewish folks, given my friendship with…” Here, Kurt stopped himself from speaking.
The Tinseltown Murderer Page 5