Chase The Rabbit: Gretch Bayonne Action Adventure Series Book #1

by Steven M. Thomas

  “That’s pretty good,” I said. “I like it.”

  “We should leave a note, too” Bela said. “Otherwise, they may think we have been kidnapped.”

  “Now who the hell would get into a fortress like this and kidnap us?” I asked.

  “I want to leave a note,” Bela said. “It just seems like the right thing to do.”

  “Very well,” I said, “write a note. Whatever you want to do.”

  I tied the rest of the sheets together and Bela and I moved one of the beds next to the window. I fastened one end of the sheets securely around the bedpost and dropped the string of sheets out the window. They nearly touched the ground. It must have been thirty feet down.

  “Are you sure this will hold us?” Bela asked.

  “I’ve done this before,” I said. “I escaped a hospital one time using this very method.”

  “Was it by any chance a psychiatric hospital?” Bela asked smiling.

  “Actually, it was a theater you were playing in, Bela,” I said.

  “Now we have to go down one at a time,” I instructed. “Bela, you go first.”

  “This was your idea,” he said. “Why do I have to go first?”

  “Because you weigh the most,” I said, “so if the sheets hold you, they will certainly hold us. If not, you will surely die in the fall and we will abandon the plan.”

  Bela shook his head and climbed out the window, grasping the sheets like a desperate animal. Within a few minutes, he was safely on the ground, smiling and waving his hands like a crazy person.

  “Okay,” I said to Jean, “your turn.”

  Jean slid down the sheets as easily as most people walk. Now it was my turn. Just as I was about to climb out of the window, there was a knock at the door.

  Son of a bitch! I thought.

  I didn’t want to arouse any suspicion, so against my own best judgment I called out, “Yes?”

  “Can you open the door please?” the voice asked.

  Dammit! I thought. Who the hell is this?

  I cracked the door open a few inches and I’ll be damned if it wasn’t James Cagney.

  “Is Jean in here?” he asked.

  “No,” I said. “It looks like you got the wrong room this time!”

  Cagney gave me a quizzical look and said, “Well, Joan said she was here.”

  “I guess Joan was wrong,” I shot back. “Do you remember when I knocked on your door on the Graf?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “You were very rude,” I answered. “This is what it feels like to be on the wrong side of rude.”

  I slammed the door in his face and dashed to the window. I took one last look around the room. I would probably never see the inside of William Randolph Hearst’s castle again. Then I shimmied down the sheets to the yard below where Bela and Jean anxiously awaited me.

  “Just act casual,” I told them as we walked around to the front of the mansion.

  “Act casual?” Bela screamed. “We have just jettisoned out of the Hearst castle via bed sheets and all you have to offer is to ‘act casual’?”

  “Yes,” I said. “It has always worked for me. Just act as if you know what you are doing.”

  We wound our way to the front of the great building and got into the car closest to the exit. The keys were in the ignition and there were no guards there.

  “I want to drive!” Jean said.

  “Fine by me,” I replied.

  “I don’t know how to drive,” Bela added.

  As we approached the gate to leave the compound, a single guard was at the gate.

  “No one is to leave tonight,” he said sternly. “Mr. Hearst’s orders.”

  Bela went into Dracula mode.

  “Do you recognize me, son?” Bela asked.

  “Yes,” the young man said stuttering.

  “You will open these gates now then,” Bela said dramatically.

  “But I…”

  “Open. Them. Now!” Bela said slowly.

  There were dozens of cars on the street directly outside of the Hearst castle—all newspaper men. There must have been hundreds of cameras taking photographs as we drove down the block and onto the freeway.

  “This is going to be the most widely publicized escape in history!” Jean laughed.

  “Hearst is not going to be pleased,” Bela said.

  “I believe he will,” I chimed in.

  “Why?” Jean asked.

  “Because he owns all the newspapers,” I answered. “And those photos will sell a lot of newspapers.”

  I didn’t dare tell Jean or Bela that the United States government was about to converge on Hearst’s palace looking for me. I knew they were coming. It was just a matter of time. But I got Jean out of there. That’s what she wanted. I accomplished that. I would deal with the government later. Sometimes you just have to drive the Packard into the river and pretend you’re a pirate.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jean drove like a maniac, and it was very sexy. She somehow managed to evade the newspaper men but nearly killed us in the process. I loved her for that.

  “Thank God we are finally here!” Bela gasped, barely able to breathe, as we pulled into his driveway.

  “Never underestimate the driving of a woman!” Jean laughed.

  “Are you sure you are going to be okay going home alone?” I asked her.

  “Are you serious, Mr. Bay?” she said. “I can out-drive, out-smart and out-act any man in Hollywood!”

  “I don’t doubt that for a minute,” I answered.

  Bela hopped out of the Packard and headed towards his house.

  “But there is one tiny, little thing I could use,” Jean said.

  “Yes?” I asked. “What’s that?”

  She drew her face up into the cutest grin I had ever seen.

  “A kiss,” she replied.

  I can’t begin to describe the feeling that overcame me in that moment as I kissed Jean Harlow. Those seconds seemed to last a lifetime and are forever embedded in my mind. When it was over, I got out of the car and watched her speed away down the driveway.

  That girl is one in a million, I thought. I guess that’s why they call them stars.

  “Come on, Bay!” Bela shouted from his doorway. “We have work to do!”

  Bela’s home was not quite what I expected it to be. I mean, it was nice-a four bedroom, two bath with a large living room, kitchen and den. It seemed a bit modest to me for such a big star. But I had never seen a real star’s home before.

  The Asian maid started chattering the minute we stepped in. “Mr. Lugosi,” she said, “you must call Mr. Hearst right away!”

  “Yes, dear,” he replied. “Right away.”

  “And you have mail, and your agent needs to see you,” she continued.

  “Yes,” I understand,” Lugosi said. “Now bring us something to eat.”

  “And your new script was delivered today!” she added.

  “Come this way, Bay,” Bela said. “And where is the script?” he asked the maid.

  “Mr. Hearst said the police are looking for you!” she said excitedly.

  “The script!” Bela shouted. “Bring food and the script Yioko!”

  I followed Bela down the hallway and into his den. There were two loveseats, a big desk and shelves full of books on one side, and a full sized bar on the other. It was the most impressive den I’d ever seen.

  “Whiskey?” Bela asked.

  “Please,” I said as I sat down on one of the plush loveseats.

  “You know, Mr. Hearst is going to be quite displeased with us,” Bela said as he pulled a bottle from the shelf.

  “He will get over it,” I replied. “I wouldn’t worry too much.”

  Lugosi poured us a long drink, smiling and nodding.

  “I never much cared for him anyway,” Bela said laughing.

  I walked up to the bar and grabbed my whiskey. “He talked to me tonight,” I said. “The BOI is coming tonight and they are going to want
to talk to us all.”

  “The who?” Bela asked.

  “The Bureau of Investigation,” I answered. “You know, the big boys from Washington.”

  “I expected that,” he said. “They are going to interview us all thoroughly.”

  “Yes, but I know what happened,” I replied. “They’re going to be on me like flies on fish paper.”

  We both downed our whiskey and stood in silence for a moment. It had been a long trip. And it wasn’t over yet.

  Yioko barged into the room with a serving tray full of roast beef and potatoes. “I have food!” she said. “You call Mr. Hearst?”

  “Thank you, dear,” Bela said. “Yes, I will call him. And where is that script?”

  “It on your desk!” she yelled, “with all your mail!”

  Yioko left the room as Bela sat and began sorting through the small stack of envelopes on his desk.

  “Here!” he said. “This must be it!”

  I sat in one of the loveseats across from the desk as he tore the package open and pulled out a large stack of paper that was stapled together.

  “I have to learn this script in two days!” Bela said. “Filming begins on Monday!”

  I was shocked at his work ethic and apparent lack of grasping the reality that the largest disaster in modern times had just occurred, thereby perhaps delaying everything. Especially making a movie.

  “Bela,” I said. “The Graf just went down in flames. I think they will give you a little leniency on the start date of that.”

  Lugosi laughed and shook his head. “You don’t understand business,” he said smiling. “These people are paying me handsomely. And they are not going to delay business for anything.”

  “Everything is being shut down because of this,” I said. “Do you think for one minute that the Olympics will go on? All the major stars in Hollywood are being held captive in Hearst’s castle. Business sometimes stops. And this is one of those rare moments in history, Bela!”

  “We overcome extreme circumstances by carrying on,” Bela said in a very serious tone. “You and I, and the young Jean Harlow. We made a decision to do just that, did we not?”

  I respected Lugosi beyond his work as an actor. After all, he had served in the World War. He was twenty-plus years older than I, and he was my friend. I trusted his judgment.

  “Yes, we did,” I answered. “But this is not over by a long shot, especially for me.”

  Bela began reading the papers in front of him. I am sure he heard what I’d just said, but chose not to engage in any further conversation on the subject. So I stretched out on the sofa and fell fast asleep.

  “Bay,” a mix of voices whispered to me, “you are in great danger.”

  It was my Mother. And Patricia. Jean Harlow. Even the maid, Yioko faded in and out. It was multiple voices overlapping all at once but saying the same thing over and over. And they were all women.

  “What should I do then?” I asked. The voices did not answer. I could hear them, but try as I might, they apparently could not hear me.

  “You should confess it,” a male voice said.

  “What?” I asked. “Confess what?”

  “Bay!” the man said. “Get up and get dressed now!”

  My eyes opened but the subject was very blurry. The figure of Bela Lugosi came into view as I woke.

  “What are you talking about confessing?” he asked.

  “I was having a dream,” I said. “I am sorry.”

  “Those men from the government,” he said, “the B.O.I you were telling me about, are on their way here. You must get up and get dressed now!”

  Bela helped me down the hallway into a bathroom. I took a long, hot shower and contemplated what I should do next. Hearst had warned me about these men and what might happen if I told them the truth about what really happened to the Graf. As the hot water poured onto my face, I recounted my conversation with William Randolph Hearst, and it all started to make sense to me.

  “You weren’t even supposed to be on the Graf,” he had said.

  “All the stars, and even I, thought you were a stowaway.”

  “That is what happened,” I’d told Hearst. “What else can I say?”

  “Nothing,” Hearst had answered.

  Did he mean I shouldn’t say anything? Could I be made out to be a mad man and a scape goat?

  “Shut up and sit down, Bay,” Hearst had said.

  As I shut off the hot water in the shower another voice called out to me. It was Mr. Pebbles from my childhood.

  “William Randolph Hearst himself will want you to work for his papers, but Bay, do not do it! And never stop chasing the rabbit.”

  I got dressed and headed down the hall to the living room. Lugosi introduced me to two men.

  “These are Inspectors Gray and Williams,” Lugosi said.

  We shook hands and I sat on the couch. The two men took seats in chairs across from me as Bela exited the room.

  “Mr. Hearst told us that you know what happened to the Graf,” Williams said. They both took out notebooks and stared at me.

  I told my story, trying not to leave out any details. When I was finished, they had a few questions.

  “So you left Alvon tied up and went down to exit the ship, only telling the one man Klaus, what had happened?” Gray asked.

  “That’s correct,” I answered. I knew this can of worms was about to get big.

  “And why didn’t you alert anyone else?” Williams asked.

  “There wasn’t time,” I answered. “We had to leave the ship. I was the last to leave, along with Jean Harlow.”

  “Let’s go back to the flashbulbs,” Gray said. “You believe this is what caused the fire that ultimately engulfed the aircraft.”

  “I know it was,” I said.

  “But camera flashbulbs,” Gray continued, “they are ignited by an electrical charge, not an impact.”

  “Under normal circumstances, yes,” I said. “But obviously these weren’t normal circumstances.”

  “I happen to know a little bit about photography,” Gray went on. “And if you throw a flashbulb on the ground, or say, drop a bowling ball on it, it will of course shatter, but not cause a spark or ignite.”

  “So you have tried it?” I asked defiantly.

  “Well, no, but…”

  “I can tell you from experience,” I said, “it does ignite. You should try it.”

  “What type of flashbulbs were these?” Williams asked.

  It went on and on. They had me retell the entire story several times, all the while taking notes and asking questions.

  “Gentlemen,” I finally said. “It is getting late and I am very tired. I have told you everything that happened. So if you don’t mind…”

  “Of course,” Gray said as we stood. “We will leave you for now. If we have anymore questions, we will contact you.”

  “I am sure you will,” I said.

  Bela suddenly entered the room and walked immediately to the front door, opening it. The two investigators said their goodbyes and stepped outside. They took about three steps when Bela called to them.

  “Gentlemen!” he yelled. They turned around facing us.

  “Do you know what this is?” Bela asked, holding a flashbulb between his thumb and index finger.

  “Yes,” one of them said, nodding.

  Lugosi hurled the bulb viciously to the concrete sidewalk just two feet in front of where the men stood. The bulb popped loudly, igniting brightly, nearly blinding them.

  They stood there for several seconds, dumbfounded. Lugosi turned, walked back into the house and slammed the door behind him. Bela and I burst into laughter, nearly falling over each other onto the floor.

  “That was brilliant!” I said. “So you must have heard what they were saying!”

  “Every word!” Lugosi replied. “I was just around the corner, listening in.”

  “Oh,” Bela added. “And when the flashbulb went off, I gave them the Dracula eyes!”

 
We were both howling hysterically. I followed Bela down the hallway to his library as we continued laughing like school boys.

  “But Bela,” I asked. “When you threw that flashbulb down, how did you know it was going to work? That it would go off?”

  He smiled broadly and said, “Well, I didn’t. But sometimes you just have to drive the Packard into the river!”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Despite the tragedy, the bizarre experiences I’d just been through, and the uncertain future that lay ahead of me, I hadn’t laughed that hard since I was a child back at the home for boys.

  “So you remember me saying that about the Packard?” I asked.

  “You have said it on several occasions through the years,” Bela answered. “It is a memorable line. And speaking of lines….”

  “Yes?” I asked.

  “You must be ready to retire by now,” Lugosi said. “I will show you to your room.”

  “Actually, I am wide awake,” I answered. “I just got a surge of adrenalin, thanks to your flashbulb trick!”

  “Then, please,” he asked, “would you mind going over some lines with me?”

  “What lines?” I asked.

  “White Zombie,” he replied. “My next movie.”

  He handed me a thick stack of papers. “Go to page 56,” he said. “Scene 203. You read the part of Charles Beaumont.”

  I found the page and glanced over the lines.

  “Sure,” I said. “I’ll give it a shot.”

  I delivered my first line and Bela did his. We went back and forth, then suddenly Bela stopped and dropped his script on his desk.

  “Bay?” he said. “That was amazing!”

  “What?” I asked.

  “You didn’t tell me you were an actor!”

  “You know I am not an actor,” I said. “I am just doing the lines with you.”

  “Oh, but you are!” he said. “It is very good! You are acting! Let’s do the scene again, but with movement. Play it out. Not just the voice, but the body!”

  We repeated the same scene again, only this time, we did it as if it were being filmed. We didn’t even hold the scripts.

  “This is very helpful my friend!” Bela said. “You should be an actor!”

  I was flattered by his comments, and I knew he was serious. Bela wasn’t one to blow smoke. That boosted my confidence, and I was having a great deal of fun with it. So much so, that we went on to the next scene. And the one after that. This went on for two hours before Bela himself finally sat down for a break. He began rubbing his face, and I knew it was time for us to retire for the evening.