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

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by George Baxt


  “No Lotus Fairweather as Margo,” he warned his agent, “because I’ll kill her if she's doing it.”

  This was overheard by a grip who relayed it to a carpenter who relayed it to an electrician who passed it on to an assistant director who orbited it toward Jason Cutts who promptly informed Alexander Roland who demanded the immediate presence in his office of Donald Carewecwc who entered the office smiling obsequiously while entertaining the absurd fantasy he was about to be offered a five-year contract without options and almost had a heart attack when an outraged Alexander Roland demanded to know why Carewe had threatened Lotus Fairweathers life.

  Detective Jim Mallory occasionally came up with an intelligent suggestion for Herbert Villon. It was therefore announced on all the soundstages that the police would be in the murdered actress's bungalow dressing room for the next hour or so and would appreciate any information that might be useful in the investigation of Alicia Leddy's murder.

  Rita Gerber engaged the service of an assistant director to accompany her to the bungalow through the maze of threatening shadows that now covered the studio like a menacing shroud. They passed Donald Carewe returning from his audience with Alexander Roland, muttering imprecations against the gossipmonger who had tried to implicate him in the future death of his leading lady

  “Sounds like he's going crazy,” said Rita to the A.D “That's possible if he's been in this town longer than two weeks “

  When they arrived at the bungalow, Rita said, “Gee, kid, I don't think I can go in there.”

  The A D. laughed “Afraid of ghosts?”

  Villon had heard them and opened the door “Do you want to see me? I'm Chief Inspector Villon “

  The A.D. said, “Miss Gerber wants to see you.”

  Villon smiled his most charming smile, erasing all of Rita Gerber’s fear and apprehension. “Won't you come in. Miss Gerber?”

  She said to the A.D., “You wait for me.”

  “Okay, okay I’ll be right here. But don't take forever. It's beginning to look like we'll be shooting most of the night.”

  Jim Mallory stood up when Rita Gerber entered ahead of Villon. She sat in the chair he offered and then her eyes panned around the room.

  Jim Mallory was armed with pencil and pad and waited patiently for Villon or the actress to say something. Villon asked, “What’s your full name, please?”

  “Rita Gerber.”

  “Did you see anything that happened around this bungalow?”

  “No. It’s nothing like that. It's just that I had coffee this morning in the commissary with Alicia and Jack Darling.”

  Villon said, “Darling was here this morning?”

  “Like I told you, sure. We sort of got to talking and he said when he has nothing to do he comes to the studio to learn more about how they make talking pictures. I think he's a real nice guy I knew he was on the make, but he's a star, you know, so what could be so bad you give a star your phone number?”

  “That depends on your taste in stars.”

  “I'm sure, but I doubt that I’ll ever get to meet John Barrymore. Anyway, Alicia and I came out from New York on the train together and we got to know each other pretty good. I mean she was so young and naive, fresh out of the chorus from where Mr Roland spotted her.”

  “He's a great spotter.”

  “I kidded her a lot about if you want to get ahead you have to sleep with the right people and she said I suppose you'll never know if they’re right until you sleep with them and if they're the wrong ones it's too late already.”

  “I had no idea she was so profound.”

  “Neither did she.”

  “Did she seem apprehensive of anyone she might run into in Hollywood?”

  “No, she was afraid of the same thing I am—would we make it out here? So this morning there we were, she starring in a talker and me on loan out for this fat part in a musical turkey which is nutty since I can't sing a note. I was flattered Jack Darling was buying us coffee. She said he'd helped her do a scene for her director “

  “I suppose I can assume he also had Miss Leddy's phone number.”

  She smiled ingenuously. “Why don't you ask him? He’s on my set talking to the sound technicians. I saw him just before I left to come here.”

  “Did you see Miss Leddy again today?”

  “No,” she said softly. 'Then when I heard she was dead, well, you can imagine how I felt, how I still feel. She wasn't stabbed or anything awful like that, was she?”

  “I can't tell you that until I see the coroner's report “ Villon had cautioned Hazel Dickson not to use the scarf in her story until he saw the report It could possibly be a red herring like the acid-burnt mouths of Dolly Lovelace and her husband.

  “I can tell by the way you talk it must have been awful.” She dabbed at her misting eyes with a handkerchief “I can't tell you anything else. I better get back.”

  “Well go with you.” He said to Mallory, “I don’t think we'll be receiving any more volunteers. Let’s go.”

  They picked up the assistant director and walked the short distance to stage 5.

  Sophie Gang was anxious to get home to her canary, her goldfish, and her invalid mother, but Sam Goldwyn insisted she join him in watching the day's rushes. As they walked slowly to the projection room, Goldwyn was considering replacing an elderly character actress who was having trouble remembering her lines.

  “She can't remember a thing. Do you suppose she’s suffering from magnesia?”

  “She says the director makes her nervous. She's really a very good actress, but face it, she’s over seventy When you're that old, it's not so easy to remember.”

  “And what's with that crazy ingenue, that Frances Carlisle? I hear she claims her father came over on the Mayflower.”

  “Probably as a stoker “

  “And have you any idea why Fitzmaurice is giving everybody such a hard time?” George Fitzmaurice was the director the character actress said made her nervous. “Here I am helping him move from silents to talkers when nobody else would give him a hello, and he's making so many problems. Doesn't he know his repetition is at stake?”

  “I’ll talk to him in the morning.”

  “And how about that Alex Roland! Making an about-face and putting the Darlings and Loring back to work. How dare he snitch Jack from under me!”

  Sophie was tired. “You didn't sign Jack to anything. You offered to test his voice.”

  “Don’t put words in my mouth! Well, now Alex has a murder case to deal with. It serves him right the way he's been treating his wife, “

  “What's Mrs. Roland got to do with murder?”

  “How do I know? Maybe we should find her something now that Joe's putting her in a picture Say, did we sign that blond kid …” He snapped his fingers trying to recall the actress's name

  “Florence Britton We're signing her tomorrow.“

  “Maybe Ben Hecht's got a good idea there “

  “Where?” Goldwyn's non sequiturs always tired Sophie Gang

  “A picture about Dolly Lovelace. It might be right for Miss Great Britain.”

  Sophie was too weak to correct him “She hasn't any experience “

  “When I get through with her, she'll have experience.”

  When Villon and Mallory returned to soundstage 5 with Rita Gerber, they had to wait for a musical sequence to finish shooting They had just entered the stage when the warning red lights flashed and an A D shouted “Quiet!” Rita realized she was needed in this scene and hurried to a group of scantily clad girls chained to each other. One of the wardrobe people handed Rita a whip and when the director called “Action!” Rita lashed away with an unbecoming fervor The whip was a treated strip of cloth that left red welts on the girls' backs To one side, a sound effects man cracked a real whip in synchronization with Rita's actions It had been carefully rehearsed and timed so that Rita and the sound man acted in concert.

  The orchestra situated behind the camera blasted away mercilessly as Don
ald Carewe somewhat precariously balanced himself on a stone parapet brandishing a scimitar and belting in his bruised baritone a warning to Rita and a group of dastardly extras in beards, mustaches, and turbans (Villon decided these were slave traders)

  “Trading in slaves

  Depraves

  And will lead to your graves …

  You varlots and knaves …

  Will suffer from my braves …”

  Villon whispered to Jim Mallory, “Lyrics not by Emily Dickinson.”

  “Oh, is she out here?”

  Carewe, they realized, was no longer singing.

  “Ye gods,” shouted the director, “where is Miss Fairweather? This is supposed to be a duet!”

  The stage echoed and re-echoed with shouts of Lotus Fairweather's name when suddenly Rita Cerber emitted a piercing shreik.

  An assistant director following Gerber's finger pointing upward to the flies said, “Here comes Miss Fairweather now.”

  Lotus Fairweather's body came plummeting down and missed crushing Rita Gerber by inches.

  Villon drew his revolver and yelled to Mallory, “Up there!” There was further pandemonium at the sight of the two police officers with weapons drawn taking the stairs two at a time as they rushed up to the platforms in the flies.

  Jason Cutts had the news from soundstage 5 within seconds and hurried into Alex Roland's office to tell him, praying the news would not bring on a heart attack What Roland suffered was not a heart attack, but more of a convulsion. Cutts poured him a brandy and Roland downed it in a gulp He gasped, “The police! The police!”

  “They're there. They saw it. They're chasing the killer.”

  But Villon and Mallory were unsuccessful. Grips and electricians placed variously in the flies had seen nothing. They had heard the whoosh of the falling body, but they hadn't heard a scream. They hadn't heard anything else. As they hurried back downstairs, Villon shouted over his shoulder to Mallory, “Get to a phone and get us a backup and don't forget the coroner.”

  “I never forget the coroner.”

  As Mallory went in search of a telephone, Villon pushed his way through the wall of humanity surrounding the body. Rita Gerber was off to one side with an A D. having hysterics and Donald Carewe had hurried to his dressing room to phone his agent and tell him he would probably be available to the Shuberts earlier than expected.

  Alex Roland and Jason Cutts came tearing out of the executive building into a waiting car that drove them to the soundstage Roland had remembered to shout a command to a secretary and tell her to phone his wife with the awful news and let her know it might be hours, before he'd get home.

  Jim Mallory, after phoning headquarters, found Hazel Dickson at home to give her an exclusive. They were frequently trading favors. Hazel shouted, “You're in my will!” She phoned her scoop to the night editor and then hurried to the Diamond Studios in her trusty Model T.

  In the wardrobe department, costume designer Ethel Swift clutched her throat upon hearing of Lotus Fairweather's death and said. “That costume cost a fortune! If she's ruined that costume I’ll kill her!”

  Annamary Darling moaned and began to faint. Marie caught her daughter in her arms and bellowed, “Courage, baby, courage! Ethel, you got some hooch? Well, get it!”

  Ethel opened a wardrobe trunk where she kept a stash of bourbon and falsies and unscrewed the cap of the bootleg booze and took a stiff belt She then poured some into a paper cup and held it to Annamary's mouth.

  Jack Darling entered wardrobe and, seeing Annamary in collapse, hurried to her and began rubbing her wrists. Marie asked him if he'd heard about Fairweather's tragedy

  “Heard about it? I was there! I saw her come down! It was awful! It was just awful?”

  Mallory and Villon managed to clear a space around the body Villon stared at it, lying like a crumpled, shattered doll, arms and legs askew. He heard an extra say, “Just because she was so lousy in the picture was no reason for her to take a dive. I mean come on already, she's got that rich husband back east, don't she?”

  Villon knelt and examined her neck. Her face was bloated. Her mouth was agape with her purple tongue protruding. Around her neck, tightly wound and knotted, was a silk stocking.

  Villon stood up and Mallory asked, “How do suppose the killer lured her up to the flies?”

  “He didn't He carried her. He killed her someplace else.”

  “But how did he get the body up there without being seen?”

  “Jim, there are lots of ways to get into these soundstages. And anybody who knows his way around could move a dead elephant in here without being caught.”

  “Oh my God, my God!” Alexander Roland had arrived with Jason Cutts “Oh my God! Why did she kill herself! Why!?” He grabbed Jasons arm. “Hurry, Jason, hurry. Call Jay Mack in insurance!”

  TWELVE

  “Whaddya mean she killed herself?” questioned an electrician, oblivious to the fact he was contradicting the head of the studio, “Looks like she was strangled with that stocking around her neck,”

  “Strangled?” Alexander Roland stared at Villon. “She was strangled like Alicia Leddy was strangled?”

  Villon heard a sharp intake of breath and realized it was his own. Mallory said nothing Instead, he busied himself with the help of some studio policemen in pushing back the personnel crowded around the dead woman.

  “Mr. Roland?” Roland saw Ethel Swift arriving, followed by the three Darlings. “How did you know Alicia Leddy was strangled?”

  “How? What do you mean how? Somebody told me, that's how I heard it from somebody.“

  “What somebody?”

  Roland screwed up his face trying to remember It didn't help. “I don't remember Mr. Villon, I hear so much during a day, what with all my meetings and conferences.”

  “I want you to try and remember. It's very important that you remember “

  Donald Carewe had returned from phoning his agent. Roland espied him and pointed an accusing finger at him. “Him! That baritone! He threatened to kill Lotus Fairweather!”

  “Oh please! Not again!” pleaded Carewe. A chorus of voices joined Roland's, those who had overheard and relayed his threat from one to another and finally to Roland

  “Oh my God!” shrieked Ethel Swift “The costume is ruined! Absolutely ruined! Look at those paillettes and those bugle beads scattered all over the floor. I begged the clumsy bitch to take very special care of the costume! Goddamn it, I was going to use it again in the movie about the amnesiac World War soldier, Over Where?”

  “Ethel, shut up!1' shouted Roland.

  Villon had confronted Carewe. “Come with me I want to talk to you .”

  Carewe babbled with fear. “It's all a mistake, it's a terrible mistake.“ Alone on the set under the stone parapet, Carewe explained to Villon his remark about Lotus Fairwcathcr’s possibly joining his tour of The Desert Song and how he felt he couldn't cope with her again. He was sweating profusely and grinding a handkerchief between his damp palms. “You understand, don’t you? How could I kill her when I have a wife and four children in Great Neck, Long Island?”

  “Where were you when she came crashing down from the flies?”

  The baritone's eyes widened, suddenly realizing he had an alibi, “Why, I was standing right here on this parapet. Lotus should have joined me for a duet. We had to stop the scene because she wasn't here with me And that's when she … you know …”

  “Thank you, Mr Carewe.” Villon walked back to join Mallory, leaving behind him a bundle of shattered nerves. Marie Darling was worrying Roland with her usual ferocity. “My children must be protected! I will not permit them on this lot without armed escorts! My darling Annamary will not commence shooting tomorrow unless the stage is fully patrolled. You! Villain!“

  “Villon,” corrected Mallory.

  “What kind of a chief inspector are you anyway? These murders are taking place right under your nose!”

  “That’s not where they took place,” said Villon
<
br />   “Don't quibble!”

  Roland tried to placate her “Please, Marie, there will be more than adequate protection “ He was relieved to hear the sound of approaching sirens, hoping they would fortify his promise to Marie.

  Marie pointed a finger at the corpse. “And I suppose there isn't enough insurance to cover this thing either!”

  Roland’s face began to redden. “Please, Marie …

  “Please, Marie! Please, Marie!” she mimicked cruelly “No one ever does anything to please Marie!” She took Annamary's arm “Come, dear, we're going home.”

  “But you can't leave now,” wailed Ethel Swift. “Were not finished! She has six big scenes tomorrow and we've only fitted four of the dresses!1'

  “Marie … please!” pleaded Alexander Roland.

  Villon's backup came hurrying onto the stage followed by Hazel Dickson. Villon wondered how she'd gotten wind of the killing so soon. If she was here, the other reporters and photographers wouldn't be far behind. The next couple of hours had to be unobstructed so that he could question as many people as possible. Who had last seen the soprano and where? He saw Jack Darling with an arm around Rita Gerber in an attempt to comfort her. The girl's shoulders were shaking and her face was a mess. Her mascara had run down her cheeks and onto her chin. The special makeup needed for Technicolor film looked caked and peeling She was no longer pretty.

  Annamary said to Marie, “Stop pulling my arm, Mother. I am not going home until I’ve finished all the fittings. If we don't do it tonight it will only mean my getting here at the crack of dawn. I've promised to do this film and I'm going to do it right.”

  “Don't work yourself into a state, dear,” said Marie.

 

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