Chapter Twenty-One
I sat in shock as the lights came up in the theater.
“That was incredible!” I said. “Is it true?”
“Every word of it,” a voice from behind me replied.
It was the old man, Hearst. He sat down next to me, smiling.
“So what did you think of my little movie?” he asked.
“It was just a movie, then?” I asked. “I mean, was this the outline for a real movie you are planning? Because, the story is amazing!”
“No,” Hearst replied. “It is a documentary. And it is all true. Only a handful of people have seen it. The rest will have to wait until 1982.”
“Then this ship,” I said, “The Rose. It actually exists?”
“You are sitting in it now,” Hearst said.
I looked around the room in confusion. It was a small movie theater.
Hearst stood up.
“Come,” he said, “follow me.”
We went into a wide hallway and passed through a huge, elegant dining room. Then into a large kitchen, like you would find in a fancy restaurant. What appeared to be a living room, complete with fireplace was next.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“To the cockpit,” Hughes said.
Another, long hallway led us to an amazing, wooden staircase. We descended the stairs and passed through three doors that finally opened up into a room with black walls. It was oval in shape. There was a long console at the front, with various levers, knobs, and tiny movie screens. It didn’t look like any cockpit I’d seen before.
“Please,” Hearst said, “have a seat,” motioning towards one of six chairs at the console.
“What is all this?” I asked.
“This is the control room,” Hearst replied.
“It is the cockpit,” Hughes added. “It is where you control the ship.”
Howard began moving levers and flipping switches. Tiny colored lights started flashing and a low humming sound filled the room. It definitely looked like a movie set. I kept glancing around the room, expecting Lugosi to enter at any minute, dressed as a mad scientist.
“Let me tell you why you are here,” Hearst said.
“Please do,” I said.
“First,” he began, “I have to tell you about Mark Anthony.”
“Who?” I asked.
“The man you were sent to find,” Hearst said.
“Yes,” I replied. “Why did you have him taken away?” I was more than just a little agitated. I was downright angry. “I had him! And you stole him from me!”
“I knew about your mission the day you received and accepted it,” Hearst said. “You see, Bay, I had been looking for him myself for quite sometime.”
“What?” I asked. “Why?”
“Those lawyers that work for Patricia,” Hearst said. “They actually work for me. She doesn’t know this, but they contacted me the very moment that she hired them to get in touch with you.”
“Why were you looking for him?” I asked.
“I am getting to that,” the old man said. “Please, just sit and listen. I have a lot to tell you tonight.”
This better be good, I thought.
“Patricia is Marion’s sister,” he said.
“Holy!” I blurted out. They did look an awfully lot alike.
“And Marion had a child thirteen years ago,” he continued. “My child.”
“Oh my God!” I said.
“Well, we couldn’t let that out,” the old man said. “It would ruin both of us.”
It was fairly well known that Hearst and his wife were estranged. She lived in New York, and he in California. And people close to them knew that Hearst and Marion were more than just friends. Hell, even I knew that.
“I sent Marion to Paris, France where she would stay for her entire pregnancy,” Hearst explained. “She had a little girl. And we named her Rose.”
“After the ship?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“Yes,” he said. “We gave Rose to Marion’s sister to raise, but we kept in constant contact, visiting often.”
“Then Patricia’s husband,” I said, “Mark, is not the biological father of the little girl.”
“Of course not,” the old man said. “I told you, I am.”
“So you had Mark hauled off to return him home to Patricia?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “He should be on a boat in the Pacific by now. After the concrete dries, he will be missing again, but this time, forever.”
A chill ran down my spine. Hearst had a strange look on his face. He squinted his eyes and stared off into space for a second. I was afraid to ask him why he was doing this. I figured I’d better shut the hell up for once and just listen.
“My daughter told me that Mark had been making late night visits to her room,” Hearst said, still staring off. “I sent for him, but by the time my men arrived at their residence, he was gone. He must have gotten wind that I was after him.”
The tension in the room was as thick as an Oriental rug. I sat riveted, listening to this incredible story. A few moments of silence passed.
“I had people searching for him,” Hearst said, making eye contact with me again. “A few came close, but he always managed to disappear.”
“And his wife, Patricia,” I said.
“She had no idea what had been going on,” Hearst said, cutting me off. “I instructed Rose not to tell her. It would absolutely destroy her if she knew. And Patricia has problems enough already.”
“He was a two bit hoodlum,” Hearst continued. “He wanted to be an actor, but he couldn’t act. The bastard had managed to marry Marion’s sister, and therefore became the legal father to my only daughter. I put up with him only because I had to. But when I found out what he’d been doing…” Hearst trailed off and started staring into space again.
“So you let me chase him,” I said.
“Of course,” the old man answered. “Why not let you try?”
“It was no accident that you were on the Graf,” Hearst continued. We knew it was likely that you would visit the speakeasy, the Lamb, that night after you met with Patricia. So I sent Karl von Wiegand there to intercept you.”
“So this whole thing was a set up,” I said in disbelief.
“When I was told that you actually had acting ability,” Hearst said, “I arranged for you to be in White Zombie.”
“No,” I said. “That was just a twist of fate. I wouldn’t have been in the movie had Robert Frazer not died.”
“That was not supposed to happen,” the old man confided. “The plan was for him to have an accident, but it went a bit too far.”
“You mean you…” I said, trailing off.
“His driver was supposed to take the curve too quickly and slide off the road,” Hearst explained. “The auto flipped over several times going down the deep canyon. The plan was for him to be injured and therefore unavailable to make the motion picture. Not dead.”
“My God!” I exclaimed. “But why?”
“I wanted you to stay in Hollywood, to search for Mark,” he replied. “I suspected you would give up soon and go back to the East Coast, unless…”
“Unless what?” I shouted. “My God, you had a man killed!”
“I told you, it was an accident,” he replied. “I knew you had been bitten by the fame bug. I could see it in your eyes on the Graf. If you were given a bit of that fame yourself, I knew you would stay.”
“Who else knows about this?” I demanded.
“No one,” the old man said. “The director, Lugosi, none of them know. You got the part on your own ability. I merely allowed you the opportunity. But I had faith in you.”
“What about the other movie offers?” I asked. “Did you arrange those as well?”
“I made a few phone calls,” the old man said. “It didn’t hurt that Jean Harlow and even Marion wanted to work with you. But stars are a dime a dozen. They don’t really have power. We just let them think they do
. It helps their egos.”
“But me being in these movies was eating up all my time,” I said. “I ended up hiring a few people to chase the rabbit for me. You could have done that without me.”
“In business,” the old man said, “you cannot do everything yourself. You have to surround yourself with the right people to accomplish your goals. Delegation is key. It did not matter to me if you sought help. Everyone else before you failed in the mission. So to answer your question, no, I could not have done it without you.”
“So what am I supposed to tell Patricia?” I asked.
“There is something very important I need to tell you about Marion’s sister,” the old man said.
Lights flashed in the cockpit and suddenly the massive ship was moving. Hughes was watching several small screens intensely.
“We’re going up!” he said. “Sit down, Bay,” Hearst exclaimed. “You’re about to go on a trip.”
“Where are we going?” I asked nervously.
“You have the honor of being the very first passenger on The Rose,” he said. “We’re taking you back home, to Hoboken, New Jersey.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
My head was reeling from everything I’d just learned. I hadn’t had time to digest it all, and now we were soaring into the sky inside an airship whose very existence I couldn’t grasp.
“Ten thousand feet!” Hughes said as he gripped two large levers, a giant smile on his face.
“What about Patricia?” I said.
“In a moment,” the old man replied. “Just watch the screens and I will tell you in a moment.”
“Thirty thousand feet!” Howard yelled. “We’re climbing fast!”
I couldn’t tell what was happening by watching the little movie screens. It looked mostly black with some white lights flashing. These weren’t movies, though. I got the distinct impression that these were moving images but not on film. What we were seeing on the screens was happening now. And it was scary.
Hughes jerked the levers back towards him and started slamming buttons.
“We are locked in!” he shouted. “We are there!”
Howard sat back and folded his arms across his chest contently.
“Works every time!” he said.
“Pardon me,” I asked. “But what the hell is going on?”
“We are at Level A,” Hearst answered.
“Level A?” I asked. “Like on the Graf? This is NOT Level A!”
“We just call it that,” Howard said, “as an inside joke.”
“We are just outside the gravitational pull of the planet,” the old man said. “It is from here where we can travel the greatest distance in the shortest amount of time.”
“You see, from here, the earth looks smaller,” Hughes said, pointing to one of the screens. “Because from here, it IS smaller.”
I studied the screen Howard was referring to. You could see the curvature of the earth.
“Tesla tells me we are still within the grip of gravity,” Hughes explained, “so that we may employ its effects, but are outside the atmosphere; says it makes for efficient travel.”
“Just how high up are we?” I asked.
“You don’t want to know!” Hughes said laughing.
“We can travel to any place on the face of the planet in about ten minutes from here,” Hearst said. “The Rose can accommodate over a thousand passengers. Imagine that!”
“And you are taking me,” I said, “one man, to Hoboken?”
“Yes,” the old man said. “It is a test flight. I knew you wouldn’t mind, under the circumstances.”
“A test flight!” I said.
“It’s not the first,” Howard added. “We’ve ran many test flights in the last month. But you are the first real passenger.”
“Forgive me if I seem ungrateful,” I replied, “but I didn’t ask for any of this! You essentially kidnapped me. I don’t want to go back to Hoboken now!”
“That is fine,” Hearst replied. “Howard, turn her around and we will take Mr. Bay back to California. I am sure Miss Harlow will be happy to see him again on the set of Red Dust.”
“Thank you,” I said.
Howard grabbed one of the levers with his right hand and slowly started moving it. The screens images showed that we were indeed turning. I was relieved.
“Now what were you going to tell me about Patricia?” I asked.
“She has a rare disorder,” Hearst replied. “It is most severe. It’s been going on for years, but has gotten worse in the last few months.”
“Oh my God!” I said. What is it?”
“It is complicated,” the old man said. “We’ve had many doctors study her case. We’ve had a nurse living with her for years to make sure Rose and she are taken care of properly. That is why her lawyers work for me. But she asks about you every day. And that is unusual for her.”
“We’re in a good position to go back down now,” Hughes said. “I should be able to sit her down in Area 51 in a couple of minutes.”
“Wait a minute!” I said. “What do you mean she asks about me?”
Hearst held a finger up, indicating to Howard to wait before making the descent.
“She wants to meet with you,” Hearst explained.
“What about her disorder?” I asked. “How sick is she? Is she going to die? When can I see her?”
“Do you want to go back to Hoboken,” Hearst asked, “or Hollywood? The decision is yours, but you must make it now.”
“Hoboken,” I replied. “Take me back home, please.”
Howard turned the ship around and before I could blink twice, we were dropping faster than hobos in an alley in July. They led me out of the cockpit to yet another room. There was a large cylindrically shaped, black thing. It looked like a giant tube, about four feet wide. A door opened on it.
“Get inside,” the old man said. “It will take you safely to the ground.”
“Safely to the ground where?” I asked.
“On the street,” Hearst answered, “just outside of your flat. Oh, and Bay?”
“Yes?” I asked.
The old man handed me a small piece of paper with a telephone number written on it.
“If you ever need a ride again,” he said, “call this number.”
I walked in as the door slammed shut, and I felt as if I were falling.
“Oh shit!” I screamed. “AHHHHHHHHHH!”
In seconds, the falling sensation stopped and the door of the giant tube opened up. I stepped out, and looked up. It was dark outside. The tube shot straight up into the air at lightning speed, and was gone.
I turned around and there it was. I was in front of my old apartment building in Hoboken, just like the old man said I would be. It seemed like I’d been gone for years. But as far as I could figure, it had only been 21 days.
I opened the door and flipped the hallway light on. I don’t know how many letters were lying on the floor just inside the doorway. Maybe a hundred. Maybe more. I stepped over them and went into the living room.
Everything was just as I’d left it.
My God, I thought, as I lay on the sofa. What the hell just happened to me?
That was the last thing I remembered. It felt good to be home. I must have fallen asleep immediately, and this time, there were no dreams. Just good, content, and much needed sleep.
***
I woke up the next morning and walked to the nearest pay phone.
“Hamilton & Shelberg,” the female voice answered.
“My name is Gretch Bayonne,” I said.
“One moment, please,” the girl responded, cutting me off.
“This is Mr. Hamilton. Is this Bay?”
“Yes,” I answered. “I understand Patricia wants to see me.”
“That is correct, Mr. Bay,” he answered, “at Truser’s again. 7:30 tonight.”
“I will be there,” I said.
“Good,” he replied. “But Mr. Bay, I have to warn you about something.”
&nb
sp; “Okay,” I said.
“Just listen to her,” Hamilton said. “You don’t have to say anything. Don’t ask her any questions. Just listen.”
“I would think she would be the one asking me questions,” I said. “She hired me to find her missing husband.”
“You will get all of your answers tonight,” he said.
***
My heart raced as I sprinted back to my apartment. The thought of meeting Patricia again was overwhelming. I had no idea what I was going to tell her. I couldn’t tell her the truth, but I couldn’t lie either.
***
I arrived at Truser’s an hour early, and waited.
Thoughts of the Graf and Hollywood ran through my head. Jean Harlow. Howard Hughes. Marion Davies. They all came rushing back into my mind. I loved these people. And I wanted to get this over with and go back there.
The double-edged sword of falling in love with this woman Patricia and having to tell her that her husband was dead was finally thrust upon me. My mission was almost complete. And as I knew from the beginning, it was not going to be pleasant.
“Your party is here,” a waiter said, “please come this way.”
My heart dropped twenty feet as I followed him to a table.
This is it, I thought.
And there she was. The beautiful Patricia. I fell in love with her all over again the instant I set eyes on her. She smiled an angel’s smile as she stood to greet me.
I took her hand in mine as she kissed me warmly on the cheek.
“Please sit down, Mr. Bay,” she said.
A young girl was also seated at the table. I recognized her from our first meeting. It was Rose.
“I am sure you are curious as to why I have asked you here and all the secrecy involved” she said.
“No,” I said. “I understand. A lot has happened in the last few weeks.”
“This is my daughter, Rose,” she said.
Chase The Rabbit: Gretch Bayonne Action Adventure Series Book #1 Page 15