Countess Dracula

by Guy Adams

  Another:

  ‘I NEED TIME TO SORT MYSELF OUT.’ FRANK NAYLAND ADMITS HIS ADDICTION

  Finally we see Fabio, looking on as Elizabeth once more dances the night away at one of the hottest spots in town. The camera closes in on him, ending with an extreme close-up. This is a man who is ill at ease. He knows that all is not well …

  FADE TO BLACK

  ‘So,’ said Henry, his mouth full of scrambled eggs, ‘you going to this party tonight?’

  ‘Of course I’m going,’ Fabio replied, staring suspiciously into the depths of his muddy coffee. ‘My groin hasn’t been this excited for years.’

  ‘An image that I could have done without, thanks.’

  ‘Then avert your eyes this evening, kid. Elizabeth’s parties are not for the faint-hearted, the prudish or those lacking in stamina.’

  ‘Sounds wonderful and terrifying, all at the same time.’

  ‘Just as all great things in life should.’

  ‘How are things going with them? You know, the divorce and stuff.’

  ‘Not that you have a vested interest.’

  Henry smiled. ‘Just asking.’

  ‘Yeah, and don’t think I haven’t noticed how much time you’ve been spending with her.’

  A worrying, dreamy look came into Henry’s eyes. ‘She’s one hell of a woman.’

  ‘An appropriate description for sure. Just you watch yourself.’

  ‘I thought you were all for it?’

  Fabio sighed and took a sip of his coffee. As a businessman he certainly was all for it – in fact, it was perfect. What better way of shooting his new protégé to stardom than by putting him on Elizabeth’s arm? After all, it had worked before. Still, he would be lying if he didn’t admit to feeling a bit guilty about it: Henry was a good kid and didn’t have the first idea what he was getting into. Or maybe he was patronising him, maybe he could hold his own. He had the years on Elizabeth, that was for sure. His shelf life would be longer, however good she was looking. Nature had to take its course sooner or later, didn’t it?

  ‘I am,’ he said eventually. ‘My two brightest stars shining together – what could be better?’

  ‘So how long do you think it will take?’

  ‘I don’t know. We’re pushing Nayland’s behaviour as justifiable cause and there’s more than one judge that owes me a favour. What’s the rush?’

  ‘I thought you wanted to cash in, you know, you’re the one that’s always saying you should strike while the iron’s hot.’

  ‘You listen to everything I say, huh?’

  ‘Of course. Doesn’t mean I pay it any mind.’ Henry laughed and Fabio took the opportunity to change the subject, returning to pipe dreams of ideal roles for Henry. If there was one thing Fabio had learned in his years as a manager it was that there was no subject actors liked discussing more than themselves.

  They finished breakfast and he sent Henry on his way, choosing to ignore the spring in the young man’s step. He was a dramatic contrast to the car crash that was Frank Nayland. It was the law of nature, Fabio told himself, survival of the fittest: one alpha male fell by the wayside to be replaced by the next.

  Except nature didn’t seem to be playing entirely fair with the queen of the pack, did it?

  And that was something he simply had to get his head around before things developed any further.

  Whatever he had said to Elizabeth he had no intention of letting her keep her secret. On the one hand, if there was a way for ageing actresses to tap into the fountain of youth he wanted to know how it worked because the knowledge would be worth a fortune. On the other, and this was by far his greatest compulsion, secrets were certainly his business, as Elizabeth herself had said – but only when he knew the details of them. You got nowhere through ignorance in this life – half his business dealings hinged on that fact. Knowledge was a currency and he needed to have as much of it as he could.

  Already Fabio had been paying close attention to Elizabeth’s movements, not just at night when she was now a mainstay of the party scene but also when she thought nobody was looking. That was where he would find out what he really needed to know: when she thought she was safe.

  He had met up with Patience. In fact, that had been his first step.

  ‘How does she do it?’ he had asked her bluntly, seeing no mileage in small talk.

  ‘I couldn’t say, I’m sure.’

  ‘Can’t or won’t? Because let’s have no confusion over loyalty here: she may be your mistress but I’m the one that got you the job. You work for me as well as her.’

  Patience hadn’t responded favourably to that, no doubt because she knew it to be true. Fabio had recruited the entire household staff that supported Elizabeth and Nayland. He had selected them from the agencies, he still paid their wages, they were an expense that went through his books. He owned them as surely as he did the two stars whom they served.

  ‘I just don’t know,’ Patience had insisted. ‘I barely see her these days. She’s always either in her room, partying or driving around.’

  ‘Driving?’ Elizabeth was not, as far as Fabio could recall, a woman who had ever taken much pleasure in getting anywhere under her own steam. She was a woman who liked to be driven.

  ‘She goes out most days, I couldn’t say where. Heads out after lunch, then comes back a few hours later.’

  ‘You think she’s going to a clinic or something?’

  Patience had shrugged. ‘Maybe. To be honest, I assumed she was seeing her young man.’

  ‘Her young man?’

  ‘I read the papers same as everyone else, I know what she gets up to.’

  Except you don’t, Fabio had thought, or I wouldn’t have to be digging this out of you piece by damned piece. ‘Why did you think that?’

  ‘She dresses up, you know, hiding herself with big sunglasses and the like. She looks like she doesn’t want to be recognised – isn’t that how people behave when they’re going to see their secret lovers?’

  ‘Except he’s hardly secret, is he?’ And Elizabeth was not the sort of woman to hide her face either, Fabio thought. She was not a woman who covered herself, however illicit her business. So what was she hiding?

  ‘I don’t know about any of it,’ Patience had said with finality. ‘I just do my job and that’s all I think about.’

  ‘Which is why you’re such good value,’ Fabio admitted. ‘Forget I asked.’

  And she probably would. She was the most discreet woman he had ever met in this country, the perfect servant. But Fabio wouldn’t let the matter drop as easily as she seemed able to. He would chase this thing down to the end.

  Which was why he decided to hire a car and follow Elizabeth himself. It was better that way because then only he would know whatever it was that he found out. Knowledge was a currency indeed, he reminded himself, and the fewer the people who possessed it the more valuable it was.

  Fabio drove over to Elizabeth’s house, resigned to a possible wait. The odds of catching her in the act were good, though, he decided. Patience had said that Elizabeth tended to go out after lunch and if what she was up to had something to do with her appearance (and for the life of him he couldn’t think of an alternative explanation) then she would certainly be about her business today. If there was a time when she would want to look at her very best it would be at the party.

  He parked off the road, a short way up from Elizabeth and Nayland’s main drive, and settled down with a handful of scripts that he had been sent by various studios. Most of them were unworkably shoddy, he decided as he flicked through their pages. More monster madness from Universal, some wild nonsense about werewolves in London (who gave two shits about London? Werewolves in Los Angeles, yes, he could have got behind that as an idea) and a melodrama about a homeless woman who got embroiled with a criminal gang, the sort of thing that would once have had Mary Pickford written all over it. He could certainly do better and there was no harm in holding out for juicier roles for his clients. The studi
os respected a man who said no – up to a point, at least.

  Fabio was threatening to doze off, the midday heat hitting the roof of the car and sending him into a sweaty stupor, when he heard a car approaching. He shrunk down in his seat, looking for all the world like a low-rent private detective in a B-movie. It wasn’t Elizabeth, it was Nayland, though he seemed to be going to some considerable effort to disguise the fact. It was all Fabio could do not to laugh – the guy was wearing a false beard! And he thought he’d been ridiculous burrowing into the collar of his coat to avoid detection. At least he’d left the kiddies’ dress-up kit at home. What the hell could Nayland be doing in that get-up?

  Fabio made a split decision, turned on the ignition and pulled his car out onto the road. He hadn’t intended to take any interest in Nayland’s movements but this was too good to ignore. He was up to something for sure and Fabio couldn’t have lived with himself if he’d passed up the opportunity to find out what. According to Patience, Elizabeth went out most days so it wasn’t as if he wouldn’t get his chance to follow her again.

  He kept his distance, though the way Nayland had been the last couple of weeks he was pretty sure he could have ridden the guy’s bumper and he wouldn’t have noticed. The man was not at his peak right now.

  They cut down through the hills and towards the city. Fabio hoped Nayland wasn’t planning on driving for hours – he’d be furious if this whole thing turned out to be a wild-goose chase. Still, that beard drew him on: what could Nayland be doing that needed a disguise? It occurred to him that Patience’s assumption that Elizabeth was meeting up with a lover could turn out to be accurate about her husband. Was Nayland meeting someone on the side? Hell, not even on the side any more … Surely not. It wasn’t as though he had to worry about being caught: if he was bedding some gal he’d have been full of it the last time they’d talked. Why would he hide it? Unless it wasn’t a gal …? Oh Christ, Fabio knew these English guys, they were all a bit weird when it came to sex. Might Nayland be seeing another man? If so he would hardly be the first Hollywood star to stray in that direction but it would be one hell of a bigger mess to cover up if that was what he was up to. Audiences didn’t like their leading men to be nancies. Fabio could have believed it of Nayland but for one thing: his devotion to Elizabeth – the wet schmuck adored the poisonous bitch. He couldn’t imagine him screwing anyone else, man or woman, given the way he felt for her.

  So what was it?

  As they entered the city it became a bit harder for Fabio to follow Nayland as the traffic built around them and forced him to stick closer than he would have liked. Nayland gave no sign of having spotted him – in fact, he seemed to have enough problems just keeping on the road. The car had jerked violently a couple of times, once nearly hitting an old dame as she stepped off the sidewalk to cross the road.

  ‘Watch where you’re going, you blind bastard!’ she shrieked, making Fabio laugh to hear such salty talk from a creature who looked like anyone’s grandmother. Nayland gave no sign of having heard her. He just drove the car around a corner and continued cruising his way towards downtown. He was drunk, Fabio decided, that was why he was driving like such an idiot. So much for not having a problem with the bottle! Drunk in charge of a false beard – this was getting more interesting by the minute.

  Soon they were in one of the sleazier districts and the traffic thinned out once more. Fabio hung back as Nayland began a slow crawl around the side streets.

  ‘Jesus Christ,’ he muttered, lowering the window slightly to let out some of the heat, ‘don’t tell me he came all this way shopping for hookers.’

  It certainly looked that way as Nayland pulled up and beckoned a pair of girls over. Not the kind of ladies Fabio would have ever considered inserting a piece of himself into. They looked as rough as sailors and as classy as a dildo at a dinner party. Still, whatever turned you on … if Nayland liked them rough then Fabio could live with it, though he’d be insisting this client had regular medical checks if he was going to make a habit of indulging such tastes.

  Fabio pulled in for a moment, watching as Nayland completed his transaction.

  ‘Hey, honey?’ called a voice from Fabio’s passenger-side window. ‘You looking for something?’

  ‘Yeah,’ he answered, lost in his own thoughts. He turned to look and his heart, that most ill-used and cold organ, almost thawed. The kid was no more than thirteen or so. ‘Oh Christ,’ he said, ‘what are you doing out here? Go home to your mother, for God’s sake.’

  He lived in a world of sin but he had never become hardened to this. Didn’t everyone deserve at least a few years of innocence before the world stripped them away? The one time he had ditched a client for moral reasons had been when he had found out that she liked boys on the wrong side of puberty. Let people wallow in whatever filth they choose but he’d have no part in that.

  ‘Can’t go home without a couple of dollars,’ the kid said, ‘or she’ll beat me so hard I’ll be out of work for a week.’

  ‘Oh God …’ Fabio grimaced at the thought and reached for his wallet. He pulled out five dollars. ‘Take this and go home.’ On reflection he snatched the note back for a moment. ‘Even better,’ he said, ‘go somewhere else. Any mother lets you out here at your age is a no-good bitch and you should keep away from her.’

  The girl shrugged. ‘You gotta stick with your family,’ she said, as if she was discussing a disagreement over seating arrangements at a wedding. ‘They’re all you got.’

  He sighed and handed her the note. ‘You don’t need anyone but yourself, remember that. Just get out of here and take the night off, understand?’

  She nodded, took the note and wandered off. No doubt she’d be back selling herself within the hour but there was nothing he could do about it.

  He looked back over to Nayland in time to see his car turning the corner at the end of the street.

  ‘Shit!’ Fabio accelerated after him. He was damned if he was going to have driven all this way only to lose him now.

  He nearly did. Turning along the next street he could see no sign of Nayland’s car and it was a full three or four minutes before he spotted it at an intersection to his left, waiting for the lights to change. He resumed his careful tracking, creeping as close as the traffic allowed until they were on their way out of the city and he could relax a little, hanging back and keeping Nayland in sight a little way ahead.

  So Nayland had come all the way over here just to pick up a couple of hookers? It just didn’t make sense. He had enough contacts closer to home. Fabio was really starting to get a bad feeling about this. Something smelled bad and, determined as he was to find out what, he was beginning to suspect that the answer would create as many problems as it solved.

  As they got closer to home, Nayland went past the turning that would have taken him back to his house and carried on up into the hills.

  ‘Where the hell are you going now?’ Fabio muttered.

  Nayland pulled off the main road and onto a narrow dirt track. This presented Fabio with a problem: did he dare try and follow? Surely it would be obvious that he was tailing the man if he did so. He could hardly have a good reason for also using the track.

  Deciding that caution was the only way forward – after all, he’d been careful up till now so why blow it at the last hurdle? – he drove a short way past and then pulled over.

  He got out of the car and headed back to the start of the track. He began to walk along it.

  It was hot as hell and he hoped to God that the trail wasn’t miles long. He wasn’t fit enough to be slogging along in this heat.

  On both sides of the track was a dense orchard of orange trees and he decided to make life easier for himself by cutting through it. Besides, if Nayland reappeared he’d soon be caught if he was standing in the middle of the trail. He could hear the car ahead and it wasn’t difficult to follow its engine sound.

  The undergrowth was thick but he pushed his way through, cursing at the effect it was having
on the legs of his suit’s trousers and his patent leather shoes.

  ‘Frankie, this had better be good,’ he murmured as he trudged on.

  He heard the car pull to a halt a short distance ahead. The doors opened and the previously quiet orchard was immediately ringing with the sound of raised female voices.

  ‘I don’t care how much you’re paying,’ said one. ‘This ain’t no summer house and I think you’ve been selling us a crock!’

  You and me both, darling, Fabio thought as he got close enough to be able to see them through the trees. The track ended in front of a ramshackle-looking barn, not a destination Fabio would have ever imagined. Clearly the hooker agreed.

  ‘I mean, this place is a dump! Who parties at a place like this?’

  Fabio noticed another car parked next to Nayland’s, a smaller red coupe which he knew Elizabeth had favoured when she had decided – pointlessly, Fabio had thought – that she wanted a car of her own. So it looked like Nayland wasn’t acting by himself: this was where she came as well. He could have saved himself a journey and come straight here if he had just been patient and waited for her to appear.

  Nayland was giving a particularly ineffectual performance through the trees ahead. ‘I told you it was out of the way,’ he was saying in a rough New York accent. ‘What’s the problem?’

  ‘The problem, mister, is my friend and I don’t like working way out in the middle of nowhere when we don’t even know who we’re working with.’

  ‘Then you shouldn’t have got in the damned car, should you?’ Nayland said, all trace of his accent now gone.

  Fabio kept creeping closer, trying to make sure that he kept the trees between him and the group ahead.

  ‘Joanie,’ said the other girl, in a dazed, doped tone, ‘I think we should go home now.’

  Too late for that, thought Fabio. Nayland obviously agreed as he grabbed the first girl, the one that had a lot more edge to her voice, and began dragging her towards the barn.

  ‘Let go of me!’ she shouted. ‘You don’t get to just muscle me around, mister!’