by George Baxt
“Do you think what Marie writes in the letter is true? Do you think he's insane? Do you believe he murdered four people, his own wife whom he professed to love so passionately? Do you believe Marie? Did you ever really believe Marie? Have you never thought someone else might be Jack's father? You said Marie was promiscuous. It's possible, isn't it?”
“Do you know how often I've tortured myself wondering if I'd been a patsy? But then I'd study the portraits of Jack that were made when I signed him to a contract. He's me three decades ago. He's my son Helen, I want to go to the hospital.”
“I’m going with you “ She left her chair and headed for the hall.
“Are you sure? You don't have to. It will be unpleasant.”
“I belong with you. Let's not bother the chauffeur Let's take the sports car. I’ll drive, and with the top down. I need to clear my head.”
Bertha Graze was laughing hysterically as she danced around the table holding the crystal ball with the gracefulness of a mastodon in heat “Marie is dying! Marie is dying!” Her spy at the hospital, the nurse in the waiting room, had phoned her the minute the Darlings' chauffeur had entered the emergency room She whirled and twirled until her lungs begged for mercy and she sank onto the couch fighting for breath. “Marie is dying, Marie is dying “ She stretched out a hand until it connected with a plate of marzipan on an end table, and then crammed a chunk of the sweet into her mouth, chewing away with the intensity of a cement mixer.
Willis Loring arrived at the hospital at the same time as Dr Sibelius. Willis asked Annamary, “How's Marie?” but Annamary ignored him and instead accepted the doctor's familiar warm embrace.
“I’ll do my best for her,” said the doctor.
Annamary wanted to say, “Don't. Let her go. Don’t let her linger. Give her a quick send-off!” Instead she said, “I know you will.” The doctor was led to his patient by a young intern whose personal opinion was that Marie would soon be off and running on one of the two tracks that led out of this life. Everyone in Hollywood knew Marie's reputation.
The nurse assigned to Marie had removed her jewelry and handed it to another nurse for safekeeping “She won't need these where she's going,” she said coldly
“Why? Afraid they'll melt?”
Willis was annoyed by Annamary's brush-off “How did this happen? What brought on the stroke?”
“What does it matter?” Annamary was staring at her brother. Jack was talking to himself. His lips were moving and she wondered if he was sneaking drugs again. What indeed had brought on the stroke? she now wondered. What had Jack told Marie when he got her alone in the wardrobe room? And what were the two detectives and that reporter doing here?
Herbert Villon entered with Jim Mallory and Hazel Dickson dutifully in attendance. Hazel was all atingle, her intuition told her she was on the verge of a great news break. This might be the story that could elevate her from her stagnant plateau as a sob sister. She had phoned in her story of Marie's tragedy as soon as Herbert Villon had heard it from Dakota McLeod. Her editor had caressed her ear with, “Great work, Hazel! You're a terrific reporter! Stay on the story, get the rest of it.” Oh, happy day. Now if Marie Darling would be a true darling and kick the bucket within the next ten minutes, she could provide her editor with a double explosion of scorching news to send across the world with his wire service.
She heard Jack Darling saying to Herb Villon in a tiny voice, “I killed them I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I took the musketeer outfit and, you know, after seven years it's still a perfect fit? I haven't gained an ounce. Mama would be so proud of me. And aren't you smart! That’s exactly what I did with that smelly slob's body up in the flies. Aren't you smart! Annamary, isn't he smart?”
Alexander Roland and Helen came hurrying in.
Annamary agreed Villon was smart.
Jack continued “I knew Alex was in trouble. He was giving Mama a hard time and so I decided he must be punished. I knew if I killed the women it would bring the productions to a halt and cost him a lot of money. I didn't figure on his replacing Alicia, poor sweet Alicia, with Annamary. But by that time I had planned on how I would kill the smelly singer, and it seemed a darned shame to cancel my plan, it was so clever.” He shrugged like a little boy “So I killed her.”
“What about your wife and Ezekiel Lovelace? Who killed them?”
“Well, I hate to do this to Mama. But I think Mama killed them. Mama's very neurotic. She used to see an alienist for a while. She used to get hallucinations like I sometimes get.”
Alexander Roland asked Villon if he could talk to him in private “It's very important. I have something I want you to read.” As he led Villon away from the others, Hazel put a consoling arm around Annamary's shoulder. Annamary smiled while Willis Loring wondered if Alex Roland would honor his deal or would he be forced to go back to Joseph Schenck with his cap in hand. At least, he thought gratefully, now I can divorce myself from this accursed family.
Herbert Villon read Marie Darling's letter, every so often looking up into Roland's tired and troubled eyes. “She writes he killed all of the victims.”
“Marie had a magnificent gift for stretching the truth. Still, so does Jack I was glad to see you here I'd like to see this wrapped up as soon as possible.” They rejoined the others.
Villon gave Marie's letter to Jack. “Read this. Your mother sent it to Mr Roland shortly before the stroke.”
Jack read the letter and exploded. “It's a lie! It's a goddamned rotten lie! I didn't kill Dolly! I didn't kill them! I love my Dolly! How could Mama do this to me?”
Annamary wrested the letter from Jack and read it. Villon in turn claimed it from her. “Evidence, you know “ Hazel thought he looked so cute. She had taken command of a phone and was dictating her story to rewrite.
“Wait a minute! Hold itl Jack Darling’s going berserk!”
Jack was on his feet and striking out with his fists in all directions “Why is Mama doing this to me! She promised I’d be on top of the world! Is this what she calls the top of the world? Annamary? It's not fair! It's not fair! Just because I got drunk and told Dolly everything about me and my real poppa and she told that louse Ezekiel and he told Bertha and the hell with all of you! The hell with all of you! Dolly! Dolly! I need you sweetheart! Come to me Dolly!”
He struck Mallory in the face. He pushed Willis Loring to the floor with a maniacal show of strength. He tore past an intern, who tried to restrain him, and soon was outside and punching the Darling chauffeur, knocking him to the ground. He gunned the motor of the limousine and headed it toward the hills of Hollywood.
“Good heavens!” exclaimed Marie's private nurse. “Look how sweet she looks.”
Dr Sibelius had to agree. In death, Marie suddenly looked thirty years younger. Even her death rattle he found rather melodious. He began figuring in his mind the enormous bill he would present to Annamary. He said to the nurse, “I’ll inform the family I'm not sure if Miss Darling will permit an autopsy, so wait until I give you further instructions as to the disposal of the body.”
* * *
Villon and Mallory were chasing Jack. Hazel remained behind to stay with her story, hoping Mallory would remember to inform her of Jack Darling's fate as soon as he could get to a telephone. Jack had a clear road to his destination, whatever it was. Villon at the wheel marveled at how Jack took the twisting turns in the road without going over the edge. The roads in the Hollywood Hills were narrow and dangerous, with sheer drops on either side into ravines below.
Mallory said, “I think the nut's heading for the sign.”
The sign lay ahead of them It was treacherously high and loomed over the area ablaze with its electric bulbs. It proclaimed itself proudly, if gaudily, HOLI.YWOODLAND. It was the city's most famous whore and pandered to everyone's dreams and ambitions without fulfilling any promises.
They heard a screech of tires as Jack bore down on the brakes “Will you look at the damn fool! He's climbing up the H! He'll electrocute himself!
” shouted Mallory.
“Fine,” said Villon, “that'll save the state money.”
Jack's climb was slow and laborious. He kicked some bulbs on his way up, which exploded with pops that echoed and re-echoed throughout the hills. Villon and Mallory watched him, in silence.
Soon Jack reached the top of the H. “Hey!” he shouted. “How about me? I'm back on top! Mama! I'm on top! And I did it by myself! I didn't need you to get me here! Do you hear me, you fucking traitor? I didn't kill Dolly! I didn't kill Dolly!” His sobs even touched the steel hearts of the lawmen below. “Top of the world, Ma! Top of the world!”
Jack Darling sailed gracefully into space and into film history. He joined the other dinosaurs of the silent film in extinction. In years to come, there would be occasional retrospectives of his work given by colleges, universities, film societies, and film museums across the world. He was idolized in communist Russia as a victim of capitalism, and there's a bust of Jack on display in the town square of the village of Baronovich, where it is respected by everyone but the pigeons
SEVENTEEN
Hazel Dickson scooped the world and made immediate plans to write her autobiography. Herbert Villon was proud of her and made immediate plans not to propose marriage. Jim Mallory decided to have an affair with Marie's private nurse, who seemed very agreeable. Willis Loring continued to live under the same roof with Annamary, though they never exchanged a civil word. Alex Roland honored the deal Marie had made for Willis who became one of the great legends of the talking screen, to his own great shock.
But Herbert Villon was unhappy In his office with Mallory, he read and reread Marie's letter to Alexander Roland ‘There's something wrong with this.”
“You've been saying that for two days. Are we going to the funerals?” Annamary had decided to make it a doubleheader, a real treat for the vandals she expected to invade the chapel at Forest Lawn.
“I’ll pass. I'm sure it'll be much like Dolly Lovelace's.”
“Worse,” said Mallory. This ones a double feature. Do you suppose Annamary's planning to give away dishes?”
“There’s something wrong in this letter.”
“You keep saying that,” responded Mallory with impatience, anxious to get away to a rendezvous with his new inamorata.
“Would Marie really finger her beloved Jack as a four-time killer to protect herself? I don't think so. I really don't think so. And I'm positive he didn’t kill the Lovelaces. Why are you so fidgety?”
“Look, Herb, I've got this date. I mean, you really don't need me any longer, do you?”
“Go on, scram. But I want you here bright and early tomorrow morning.”
“Um, actually, I was thinking of going to the funerals. I've never been to a Hollywood party, I'd kind of like to see one. You know, to tell my kids about it someday “
Villon waved him away and continued staring at Marie's letter. He wondered if he was supposed to have dinner with Hazel. He’d have to dump her soon. That ego was getting both boring and dangerous now that she'd been made an editor. Still, she was pulling down a hefty salary now, and if he married her, they could maybe get in on some property in Bel Air. He'd been tipped by a real estate broker it was the next up-and-coming area.
At the Diamond Studios, the sadness of the murders was now overshadowed by the injection of fresh blood into the two jinxed productions. Helen Roland's rushes were glorious and her husband was predicting great things ahead for her in the talkers. It wasn't easy to ignore that she was increasingly unhappy, but it did not reflect in her performance. She was a real trouper. She had arranged with her business manager to acquire a property for her in Juan-les-Pins, France. Alex could join her there or not, it no longer mattered.
Even the news that Roland was Jack Darling's natural father was taken in stride by the industry. Louella Parsons, the empress of gossip, was livid with anger that she'd been scooped by the upstart Hazel Dickson. She was positive the betrayal had come from the spiteful Hedda Hopper, while Hedda Hopper had excoriated Erskine Simpson-Thwaite for not gleaning that tidbit when he was in the Darlings' employ. Ernest pooh-poohed Hopper, happy in his new position as keeper of the towels at Madam Blanche's.
The funerals were much as Villon had predicted. Except this time, the police were prepared and were able to keep the bloodthirsty mob from invading and disrupting the services. In a front pew, Sam Goldwyn whispered to Frances, “I’ll tell you one thing This funeral is no laughing matter So why is Annamary laughing?”
Annamary sat between Willis Loring and Alexander Roland. They couldn't quiet her. They had mistaken what they thought were her grief-stricken sobs Roland was the first to recognize that the sobs were actually ugly guffaws “Hush dear, hush dear,” he said nervously while patting her hand.
“Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!”
It made headlines.
The next afternoon, a subdued Annamary, suitably dressed in black, paid a visit to Bertha Graze. She carried in her hand a peace offering Bertha had been astonished and then pleased when Annamary phoned her the previous evening requesting a cessation in their hostilities and a reading in the crystal ball. Annamary drove herself to the rendezvous In response to her knock on the door, she heard Bertha shout, “Come on in! It's open!”
The living room was as Annamary remembered it, shabby and worn, the paisley shawl she'd given her years ago still draped across the piano. And Bertha herself. Impossible to believe this once slim, petite, and lovely ingenue had inflated into this surreal monstrosity.
“You look real good in black. Real good. Well, so now you're an orphan. When you getting rid of Willis? I don't need the crystal ball to predict that. But let me tell you, I’ve been looking into it and I'm sorry to say, there's a dark spot. A real big one A real beauty of a stinker. Is that for me?” She grabbed the package greedily from Annamary. Her pudgy fingers were abnormally nimble as they tore off the string and wrapping paper She uncovered the box and emitted a yip of delight. “Oh, what gorgeous cookies!”
Annamary finally spoke. “Try the chocolate ones. I baked them myself “
Bertha stuffed a chocolate cookie in her mouth and munched contentedly. Then she munched a second and then a third as Annamary opened her handbag and brought out a tiny medicine bottle filled with a colorless liquid. Bertha was staring into the crystal ball as she plunged a fourth chocolate cookie into her dangerous chasm of a mouth “Damn it! Now there's two dark spots, criss-crossing the way they did with Thelma Todd!”
Those were her last words.
She clutched her stomach, emitted an agonized belch, and then her head fell back. As though performing before a camera, Annamary uncapped the medicine bottle, went to the dead woman, and poured the liquid into her mouth. The acid worked immediately.
Annamary walked to the telephone and gave the operator the number for Villon's headquarters When she heard the switchboard operator at headquarters speak, she asked for the chief inspector.
“Mr. Villon? This is Annamary Darling.” Her voice was sweet and beckoning, like a harp glissando “I missed you at the funeral yesterday. I thought you'd be there. I'm sure you've read how I misbehaved badly.” She laughed It felt good to laugh “Mr Villon, I'm calling from Bertha Graze's home I'm afraid I've been a very naughty girl again. I just brought her some poisoned cookies. She ate four of them Two would have been enough, but of course, with her size and her constitution …”
Mallory wondered at the strange look on Villon's face. It was a mixture of pleasure and sadness He wondered who was on the other end of the phone.
Villon heard Annamary saying, “It was simpler with Dolly and Lovelace. You understand, of course, it was me Mama was trying to protect in her letter to Alex. Poor Jack. Poor unstable Jack. All those drugs and all that alcohol.l He didn't know he was dying. He had almost no liver. I guess Mama thought she was doing him a favor in betraying him. Poor baby. Maybe if Alex had—oh well … maybe maybe maybe. Mr. Villon, I'm waiting for you.”
“I'm on my way.”
She gazed into the crystal ball and saw nothing but her own reflection She looked into the box of cookies They looked temptingly appetizing. She picked up the box, took it with her to the sofa, sat down, and then selected a chocolate cookie She popped it into her mouth and looked content, alone with her thoughts, alone with her memories, yet feeling not at all lonely.