They were met at the simple entrance by a friendly face. He first asked Lance for some identification. Stepping between Adam and the animator, Lance showed him something pulled out of his wallet—just as he had done at the Golden Oak Ranch. “I guess you can call me Manny,’ he said with a laugh. “Glad to have you. While I know you would love to have a tour of the studio, I’m afraid that’s impossible today. Too much going on in the sound stages.” He led them through the busy building toward an elevator, giving them glimpses of people through open doors, busy at their desks. There were friendly smiles and hellos from everyone they passed in the long hallway. “You probably saw the big Sorcerer hat across the street there on Riverside?” Manny pointed back over his shoulder. “That was done in 1995. That’s our Feature Animation Building. The Chairman of Feature Animation has his office in the hat.”
“Roy? Walt’s nephew?” Adam had researched all the heads of the studio.
“That’s right. He might like meeting you since you have something from Walt. Maybe we can give him a call later.”
Lance and Adam exchanged a look. That was the last thing they wanted. Lance distracted him from following that line of thought. “So, tell me, who do you think of when you hear ‘The Little Princess?’”
“Oh, Snow White, of course.” His answer was immediate and had the air of authority. “Walt always referred to her as the little princess. You probably know the money he made from that picture financed this studio, right?” Manny led them down a quiet hallway. He threw open a door and led them into an empty room. “Well, here it is. Walt’s office. There’s another room through that door.”
Adam and Lance just stared open-mouthed at the empty room.
Manny looked around with a smile, misunderstanding their silence. “Yeah, I know how you feel. Kinda leaves you speechless. He was a great man.”
Lance laid a hand on the letter tucked out of sight in his jacket pocket. “We were hoping to see his office as it looked when he was here.”
“Oh, that was all packed up years ago. Some of it went on display at Disneyland and some of it went to Florida.”
“Do you happen to know where his desk ended up? We were told his desk was of special interest.” Lance knew he sounded odd. He looked at Adam who gave him a slight shrug. He didn’t know what to say either.
Manny thought about it for a minute. “You know, I think the original desk went to Disneyland for that exhibit in Mr. Lincoln’s show. Some of the awards are there, too. The other stuff went to Florida with a replicated desk. I don’t remember the desk being anything too special.”
Lance knew they were going to find nothing here. Their only hope now was at Disneyland—and he thought he knew how to find the desk. He motioned to Adam that they needed to go. “Thank you so much for meeting with us.” Lance led the way to the elevator. The animator was surprised because most visitors were reluctant to leave. “So, what’s out on the backlot?” Lance asked as they headed for the ground floor.
“Oh, a lot of the individual departments like Molding, Sign Graphics, the mill, and Costuming. Now, Costuming is interesting. There is 32,000 square feet, in three tiers, of costumes going back to the 1930’s. Fascinating….” He broke off when Lance suddenly extended his hand.
“We sure appreciate your time. Thanks for meeting with us and showing us the office.”
Manny held up a hand for them to wait a minute. “You know, I could call Roy for you. I’m sure he’d love to hear about your Walt research and what you found.” He turned aside into an animator’s office. “Just give me a minute and….” But when he turned back, Lance and Adam had already gone. He shrugged. “Odd guys,” and headed back to his own office to resume his day. He never did see the envelope and the unmistakable handwriting on the face and didn’t give Lance or Adam another thought.
Lance and Adam held themselves back from actually sprinting to their car. They didn’t want to meet up with anybody who might ask about their interest or what they found. It was better to get out while they could with only one person thinking they were very strange. Lance drove sedately through the lot and waved thanks to the guard. They relaxed once they turned onto the 134 Freeway and headed back to Orange County.
“That was close.” Adam groaned and put his back on the headrest. “I would have loved to meet Roy under different circumstances. But, how in the world would we have explained to him about the envelope or the diary? Man, I thought we were going to have to run for it. What do we do now? How do we get to a desk on display at Disneyland? He had to mean The Walt Disney Story in the Opera House.”
The Ventura Freeway wasn’t too busy. Lance knew where he needed to hit the I-5 Freeway, and then they had about a fifty-minute drive home. He also knew he had to be careful what he told Adam. There was something going on he didn’t want Adam to know about. “I was thinking about that, too. We first need to see what’s still on exhibit. It’s possible the desk isn’t there any longer. If that’s the case, we need to find out where it is, and possibly use the envelope. Do you agree?”
Adam was frustrated and discouraged. All the clues and searches had been easier than what they were running into now. Sure, they had flown across country a couple of times and had to dig and search a condemned building. But the actual tree and the actual building and the actual ranch were all still where they were supposed to be. Now they had to find a missing desk. “Yes, but what do we do if the desk is gone?”
“Well, let’s just go to the Park and see what’s what. Do you have time now?”
Adam glanced at the clock on the dash of the car. “Sure. I’m not expected back on the job today. I don’t have any new bids. Want to get some lunch first? ”
“Let’s check out the Opera House first, then my treat at the Blue Bayou.”
Staring out the window of the car, Adam mumbled, “Fine.”
Lance ignored Adam’s mood. “You have your annual passport?”
“In my wallet.”
Lance knew Adam always got the Premium Passport. It allowed full access to Disneyland every day of the year and gave free parking in the structure. “Get it out and we’ll use it for parking. It’s easier to get to than mine.”
Adam looked at him oddly. “You’ll need yours to get into the Park.”
He was airily waved off. “I know, but I don’t want to dig it out of my wallet while I’m driving.”
Considering Adam had seen Lance eating lunch and driving with his knees, he thought that was weird. But, there were too many other important things on his mind. They drove the rest of the way in silence. There was no use making plans until they knew what they were up against. After parking and riding the tram to the entrance of the Park, they made their way the short distance on Main Street to the white Opera House—the first building actually completed when Disneyland was built.
A cast member dressed in the formal tuxedo and tails befitting the ornate Opera House greeted them at the entrance and told them the next Mr. Lincoln show was in ten minutes. They wandered around the plush red carpeted waiting room looking at the displays behind glass walls. There was a lot of Disney memorabilia to see. One case was full of awards—ranging from the Oscar for Snow White and the seven miniature Oscars to honorary awards from universities to recognition from foreign countries. Included were plaques, medals, statues, cut glass, parchment and plates. Another display held photos from the early days of Disneyland. The Opera House in which they were standing was shown in framework. The Matterhorn Mountain was a mass of girders. Adam’s favorite display was the sped-up movie footage of the Park being built. It was a year of construction shown in about two minutes. He wished he could get his construction guys to move that fast. Other pictures showed a former president boarding the new Monorail. Movie stars and heads of state were photographed, all posed with their famous, smiling host.
It was in the last display that they found the contents of Walt’s studio office. The dark wood desk was shown with an assortment of drawings and cels covering the surface. A sto
ryboard was set up in the background showing the last animated picture Walt had worked on—The Jungle Book. The scene was Baloo and Mowgli and their confrontation with King Louie. There were fake windows in the background, showing the same louvered shades that were installed at the actual studio, the water tower in the distance.
However, the two men were only interested in the desk. It was turned sideways in the display and they could see drawers on either side of the swivel chair. Were the drawers untouched? Were they empty? Was this the original desk or a copy?
Adam was about to ask Lance those questions, but when he turned, Lance was gone. He wasn’t even in the waiting room any longer. Adam doubted Lance went in to see the Lincoln show. Since Adam didn’t feel like standing on Main Street shouting for him, he pulled out his cell phone and punched in Lance’s number. “Where the heck are you?” he demanded without any preamble.
“Be right back. Just wait there a second.” And Lance hung up.
Adam stared at the silent phone. He knew calling back would be a waste of time. So, he wandered through the rest of the exhibit and waited.
Lance strolled in fifteen minutes later, smiling and whistling to himself. “Let’s go eat.” He held up a hand to stop Adam’s probable tirade. “I’ll explain while we eat.”
Lance stuck his hands in his pants pockets and resumed whistling ‘When You Wish Upon a Star’ as they walked up Main Street, through Adventureland to New Orleans Square and the Blue Bayou restaurant. Adam just bided his time.
As soon as they had ordered, Lance told Adam what he had found. “The desk we saw is the original desk from the studio, so that’s good. I didn’t feel like taking a trip to Florida right now. Anyway, as far as they know, nothing was touched inside the desk. Pens, paper, whatever is still all there. They hope.” He broke off to take a drink of water.
“What do you mean ‘they hope’?”
“Well, they hadn’t examined the desk themselves so it’s all hearsay. But, they think it’s intact.”
“Who did you ask? Did you give them the letter?” Adam was getting a little neurotic. In his mind, Lance was being too secretive about ‘who’ and ‘what.’ “And who are you talking about?”
Lance was nonplussed by Adam’s questions. “I still have some friends here. One of them works at City Hall. She was very helpful.” His explanation ended with a half-smile. He knew that would stop Adam’s suspicions for now.
“Oh, I see. She was very helpful.” Instantly appeased, Adam grinned. “I should have known. How do we get in the display.…”
He broke off when the server came back, refilling Lance’s water glass and ignoring his. She told Lance his dinner would be out in just a minute or two. Would he like another roll? When Lance said he would not, but his friend would, she looked confused and looked around. She seemed startled to see someone else at the table. Adam waved at her. Blushing, she left to go check on their dinners.
“Do you think she wondered why you ordered two entrees?” Used to this reaction to Lance, Adam just grinned. He was distracted by a sudden flash of light. Someone riding the Pirates of the Caribbean just took a flash picture of the restaurant as they floated by. Adam took a moment to look at the peaceful surroundings of the floating houseboats and listen to the croaking of bullfrogs. The restaurant was lit by colorful flickering Chinese lanterns and each table had a little oil candle in the center. He hadn’t been here in a while and had forgotten how nice it was.
Lance chuckled. “I don’t know. Should we ask her?”
Adam turned back to his friend. “No, better not. She’s probably hoping one of them is for her.”
“Then I hope she likes Jambalaya because she isn’t getting my Filet Mignon.”
Adam picked up the interrupted thread. “So, how do we get to the desk?”
Lance smiled up at the server as she set his filet in front of him. She seemed to be waiting for him to take a bite as she stood there. Adam coughed into his hand, and she remembered to drop his steaming bowl of Cajun Jambalaya in front of him. Turning back to Lance, she wasn’t going to leave until he took his first bite and it was to his liking. Lance obliged her and told her it was perfect. Smiling, she left, leaving Adam with an empty water glass.
“Nice girl,” Lance muttered between bites.
Adam finished off Lance’s water. “Yeah. Super. Now, about that desk.…”
“Oh, it’s all arranged. Security is going to close the show for about an hour. That should give us enough time to do our search.”
Adam stared at him, a forkful of hot sausage stopped halfway to his mouth. “What? How in the world did you manage that? What did you tell them?”
Lance waved him off. Adam and his stupid questions. “I just told them what I needed to to get what we wanted. Trust me on this, Adam. One of the security guards has been here a long time. I might have to use the letter if we find anything, but I think it’ll be okay. Finish eating. We have to be there right at five o’clock. The show isn’t very busy then.”
Adam ate the rest of his meal in silence. Lance used a credit card to pay and tucked the server’s phone number into his shirt pocket. They walked back to the Opera House and crossed over in front of the Main Street Trolley pulled by a huge black Belgium horse. The conductor clanged her bell as Lance waved hello.
The security guard, Kenneth, was in his mid-sixties and had been working at the Park for over forty years. He had started as a ticket-taker in Fantasyland, worked Autopia through three eras of car style changes, had been a conductor on the Railroad, and finally ended in Security, his knowledge of the Park coming in handy. He greeted Lance familiarly and motioned for the two cast members on duty to shut the ornate front doors to the Opera House. Positioned outside, they would ask guests to come back later. Kenneth led the men through a small, unmarked door hidden in the white and gold-trimmed wall. They were backstage now and could hear the last of the Lincoln speech going on next to them. The audience would stream out the doors on the other side of the building at the conclusion of the performance. Kenneth pulled a set of keys out of his uniform and, after searching for the right one, wound it off his key ring and handed it to Lance. He indicated the door in front of them. “This is the display you want. You have fifty-six minutes now. That’s all I could give you, Lance.”
Lance shook hands with him. “Appreciate it, Kenneth. Thanks.”
Lance fit the key handed him into the lock and opened the door. Part of the storyboard covering the door hid it from the guests. They walked through the middle of the panel and entered the glass-enclosed case, closing the door behind them. They felt odd for a minute, looking out through the glass at the empty waiting room—as if they were now part of the display.
Shaking off the eerie feeling, they got to work. When the time was up, they would have to leave. There was no question about that.
Silently they each took a side of the desk and started opening the drawers. Pulling each one completely out from the desk and setting it carefully on the carpet, they looked for another gray capsule. Careful not to take anything completely out of the drawers, it had to look undisturbed when they were finished.
There were all kinds of correspondence, memos, pens, drawing pencils, all the usual paraphernalia in a usual desk. Only this was written to or from Walt Disney. Adam resisted the urge to read any of it or even sneak out a personal item of Walt’s that had been left behind all these years. He just didn’t have enough time and he still had some semblance of integrity.
They looked under each drawer and in the back of desk before sliding the drawer back in place. When Lance got to the middle drawer in the top of the desk, he found it to be very shallow and held pens and a gold letter opener and some clips and a stamp pad. He noticed the facing of the desk was deeper than the drawer actually was. He called Adam’s attention to it as Adam was sliding his last drawer back into place.
“Help me pull the drawer out without messing up the contents. I don’t want to tip it.”
Adam held the supplie
s in place with his hands as Lance lifted out the drawer. They could see the bottom of the wood under the runner for the drawer. He pulled out the chair and looked underneath. “Put your hand on the runner and then under here. What do you notice?”
Adam tried it. “There is a good three inches difference. Do you see any openings under there?”
“No. I think we need to remove the runner.”
“That’s not possible. The opening is too narrow. It had to have been done from below. Let me look.”
Lance moved aside and Adam slid under the desk. He used his carpenter skills to figure out how it could have been done. “There has to be a place to loosen the bottom panel without weakening the whole surface. It’s probably held in place by friction. The drawer runner wouldn’t put any stress on it and there isn’t that much weight in the drawer. Let me see that key.”
Adam ran the edge of the key around the base of the desk below the drawer. He found the inlet towards the back. Inserting the key sideways and, giving it a little pressure, he could feel the panel move. Another turn of the key and the back of the panel dropped into his hands. It was hinged on the inside, nearest the front of the desk. A flat, gray plastic container slid out of the opening which Adam set it on his stomach as he felt the rest of the panel to make sure nothing else was there. He fit the panel back where it belonged and used the palm of his hand to gently hit it back in place. It settled back and he felt all around the edges to make sure it was tight. Lance, meanwhile, had put the unneeded drawer back in the desk.
Sometimes Dead Men DO Tell Tales! Page 14