The Pitiful Player (A Nick Williams Mystery Book 14)

by Frank W. Butterfield

  Carter whispered, "There she is."

  I nodded. "Let's have a seat."

  He shook his head. "I wanna be ready to get out of here, if necessary."

  I shrugged. We were standing close enough and the room was dark enough that I put my right hand in his left. He closed his hand around mine and we waited.

  . . .

  "My dear Mrs. Williams. What a real pleasure this is." That was Hedda. She was wearing a ridiculous hat with one long feather which extended about six inches from the brim. Her bottle-blonde hair was perfectly in place and her eyes were surveying the tables. Whether it was because we were standing or not, she didn't seem to see us. When she saw Billy and Pola Negri, she stopped and made an "O" with her mouth.

  Turning back to Lettie, Hedda said, "What a turnout, my dear." Looking over at Mrs. Jones. "And Louise." She spread her arms wide. "All of this because of the two of you and the Williams-Jones Foundation."

  Suddenly, the penny dropped in my mind and I realized what Hedda had likely assumed. She thought that our foundation was the one that Lettie and the rest of the Four Terrors were running. I suspected she was about to get an education.

  Mrs. Jones stood and said, "It's nice to see you again, Hedda." She turned and looked at Carter. "Have you met my son?"

  Hedda peered over at us. I felt like a Jap searchlight was being run across my foxhole, so I dropped Carter's hand as she did. She immediately recognized me with a slight frown and then looked up at Carter. With a weak smile, she said, "I haven't had the pleasure."

  Mrs. Jones motioned at Carter. "May I present my son, Carter Jones?"

  Carter walked around the table and offered his hand. I almost laughed. That he was offering his hand first, without waiting for Hedda to offer hers first, and in violation of all good Southern etiquette, was sending a clear message to his mother. I was certain she'd received the message and was happy with Carter's subtle rudeness. When I'd first met Carter, he'd explained to me about how odd it was to him to be shaking hands with any woman. He'd been taught not to. I'd finally convinced him to take the hand that was offered. It was the least I could do since, otherwise, he looked like an awkward teenager.

  Hedda said, "My, aren't you tall? Just like Rock Hudson. Have you met him? He's over on the other side of the room with Elizabeth Taylor and that very strange James Dean. They flew in from Texas just to be here. Wasn't that awfully kind and generous of them?"

  Carter nodded and said, "Yes, ma'am." His southern charm was hitting at about a three on a scale of five. It would have been higher, except that his smile was forced. He looked over at me. "May I introduce my friend, Nick Williams?"

  As I walked around the table, she looked at me with a slight frown. I glanced around quickly and noticed that no one around us was talking. Everyone was either openly staring or pretending not to. As I arrived at Carter's side, I offered my hand. She shook it limply with her gloved hand.

  In a flash, Lettie moved next to me and Mrs. Jones stood next to Carter. Lettie took my left arm and said, "Hedda, just so there's no misunderstanding. This is my son. He's the Williams."

  Mrs. Jones said, "And this is my son. He's the Jones."

  Lettie continued, "They are the reason the Williams-Jones Foundation exists. Nicholas put a large amount of his large inheritance into the foundation. He lets me sit on the board." She looked over at Carter's mother. "Along with Louise." Right then, Aunt Velma walked around the table along with Geneva Watkins. Lettie continued, "Velma is Louise's sister. And Geneva is our friend. They are also on the board."

  From behind me, I heard Roz say, "And I've just been asked to join the board. And, as they say, I'm on board." Everyone around us laughed.

  Hedda looked at me then at Carter and then at Geneva. She turned to Mrs. Jones and asked, "You allow Negroes on your board? How did she even get in here?"

  Lettie, Mrs. Jones, and Aunt Velma all moved in at once and forcibly walked Hedda away from the three tables and over to the far wall. While Carter took Geneva's hand, I looked around again. Most everyone in the ballroom was watching. No one was talking and the dance floor was mostly empty. The orchestra, unable to see beyond the bright lights, seemed to be having a hard time keeping their playing in tune as the musicians were craning their necks to see what was happening. The bandleader, whoever he was, had turned around and was peering out into the dark.

  Right then, a tall white-haired man in a white tie tuxedo walked up. He was grinning. He offered his hand to me. I shook. "Name's Bill Hopper and that's my mother your gals have cornered and I've been waiting for a night like this all of my life." He took out a pack of Camels and offered one to me. I shook my head. He shrugged and lit one.

  As he did, Carter said, "Really sorry about this."

  Mr. Hopper shook his head and exhaled off to the side. "Don't be. She's had it coming for years."

  To Geneva, he said, "Please let me apologize for whatever thing my mother just said to you, ma'am."

  She nodded and smiled. "I've never believed that the sins of the parents are visited upon the children, but I thank you, just the same."

  Mr. Hopper laughed. "Then you never met my mother."

  Right then, my father walked up and said, "Geneva, I believe we both could use a stiff drink." He held out his arm. "Join me?"

  She took my father's arm and said, "Mr. Hopper, please don't be too hard on your mother."

  I said, "Sorry. Mrs. Geneva Watkins, may I introduce you to Mr. William Hopper?"

  She offered her hand and he shook it. "A pleasure, young man." She put her hand on my father's arm and said, "Now, Parnell, about that drink." They floated away.

  Looking down at me, Mr. Hopper said, "Nice plane, by the way. Real snazzy."

  I frowned. "I thought no one knew that was mine."

  He shook his head with a grin. "I knew. I try never to tell my mother anything she doesn't already know. I feel like when I know something she doesn't, then I'm winning."

  Carter laughed. "I know that feeling. My mother is just as sneaky."

  Mr. Hopper nodded and looked over at the four women. "But it seems like she uses her power for good and not just to make a buck."

  Carter sighed and nodded. "Yeah. She's a much better person than I tend to give her credit for."

  Mr. Hopper started suddenly. He put out his cigarette in an ashtray on the table and said, "Gotta run, fellas. See ya 'round."

  I looked to see what had made him leave. The ladies were walking towards us. Well, three of them were. Hedda was fleeing quickly into the back corner of the ballroom where she slipped out through a side door.

  Once they arrived, Lettie put her arm in mine and said, "Come along, Nicholas."

  I let her lead the way onto the dance floor and towards the stage. Carter and his mother were behind us. Roz, Aunt Velma, and Geneva brought up the rear. "What did you say to her?" I asked.

  She patted my hand with hers and said, "Now, Nicholas, you know how I feel about gossip. Let's just say that we'll be giving her all the credit that's due her wonderful efforts and that she realized it was getting late and she had to get her column updated for tomorrow. I do think, however, that I may have said something about fraud and the use of the United States mail but it slips my mind at the moment."

  I looked at her incredulously. "What?"

  "Never you mind, Nicholas. You need to start thinking about those poor children with polio and what we're here for."

  I nodded. As we made our way up onto the stage, she released my arm and walked over to the bandleader. Mrs. Jones, Aunt Velma, Geneva, and Roz joined her. The orchestra came to a mostly organized conclusion of the song they were playing which was a very odd swing version of "Yellow Rose of Texas."

  After some brief words, the bandleader offered the microphone to Roz who stepped forward. Everyone in the ballroom began to applaud. She smiled, nodded, and then said, "Thank you, everyone, for coming out tonight." As she spoke, the applause subsided and people who'd been milling around began to take their
seats.

  "First off, I must simply thank each of you for your wonderful generosity. Although the tallies aren't in quite yet, I'm given to understand that this may be one of the biggest fundraisers that the March of Dimes has ever had in one night and in one place."

  Everyone in the audience applauded.

  Roz smiled. "And, don't forget, you can still write a check." She laughed. "Or another one, if you're wrist ain't broke, that is."

  That got a smattering of laughs.

  "Now, one thing I want to let you know about is that this event was jointly sponsored by the Ambassador Hotel." Mild applause. "And the Williams-Jones Foundation." More mild applause. "Because of their efforts, the March of Dimes didn't have to use even one postage stamp to invite you here and offer tonight's delicious dinner and provide our wonderful orchestra." She turned to her side and looked at the players. "Many thanks to the Ronny Kreuger Nocturnal Orchestra." They had been pretty good and got a nice round of applause. I wondered, however, why there wasn't a more famous orchestra playing. Someone like Count Basie or Harry James. Then I noticed that all the musicians were white and that seemed to explain that. Particularly if Hedda had organized the music.

  Turning back to the ballroom, Roz said, "As you all know, I love to raise money as much as almost anything." She grinned. "Some of you know it only too well." There were several guffaws and a long round of applause. Roz nodded and said, "Thank you. I know the only reason that you're all applauding is because you're hoping I won't ask again." She grinned to more laughter.

  Roz extended her left hand to Lettie and Mrs. Jones. "Tonight, it is my honor to introduce four amazing women with whom it has been my pleasure to become friends in these last few months." She introduced the Four Terrors in very affectionate terms. "They are the real reason that you are all here tonight. Without their assistance, both here in Los Angeles and up in San Francisco, we really wouldn't have done as well as we have." There was more applause. She grinned again. "Now, don't put away those checkbooks quite yet. There's still more time." More laughs. "Of course, I can't forget our own Hedda Hopper. Unfortunately, she left a bit early. She has tomorrow's column to finish." Pausing, Roz put her hand over her eyes and surveyed the crowd. "You all look reasonably sober. And I see all the right husbands with all the right wives. So, I'd bet that tomorrow's column will be all about Broadway and Senate hearings." That got a huge roar of laughter and applause.

  "The last thing I want to do here is to invite Mr. Nicholas Williams, of the Williams-Jones Foundation, over to say a few words about the marvelous work that the March of Dimes is doing."

  I walked over to the microphone to a mild smattering of applause and some whispers. It helped that the crowd was in the dark. I didn't have a fear of public speaking, not that I'd ever had to test it, but it was nice not to be able to see everyone. I smiled and said, "Thank you, everyone, for being here tonight. And thank you, Miss Russell, for bringing all of us together to make tonight happen." I took a deep breath and tried to think of what to say next. I had a sudden image and realized that was the only thing to talk about. And I also knew I was going to have to put on my high hat voice. I tried to imagine my mother sitting in the audience and that helped. "Last summer, I was invited over to the house of a police officer and his wife just north of San Francisco. They have a very sweet little girl. Unfortunately, she had contracted polio a few years earlier but the fine people at the March of Dimes were able to help get her the therapy and the treatments that she needed and the doctors have said that, by the time she's a teenager, she'll be able to walk just like any other teenager." I grinned. "Of course, with a cop for a father, I don't know how far that might be." That got a huge round of laughs. I waited and then said, "I'm so proud of their work, as they carry on with what was started by President Roosevelt. If he were here, I'm sure he would be very heartened to know that this fundraiser isn't just for iron lungs or braces, but for the distribution of a vaccine." That got a huge round of applause. "Thank you for giving generously and for being here tonight. Your efforts will make a tremendous difference for children all over the U.S.A. and throughout the world. The end of polio is in sight. And, it's all thanks to you. Good night." With that, I turned and kissed Roz on the side of the cheek and let her take back the microphone.

  There was loud applause coming from the ballroom as Roz stepped up. "Thank you, Nicholas Williams, for that wonderful reminder of why we're all here this evening." She began to applaud and others joined in. I smiled and nodded. I looked over at Carter, who looked just as proud as an old mother hen. He winked at me and I grinned in reply.

  Chapter 20

  717 North Cañon Drive

  Beverly Hills, Cal.

  Tuesday, July 12, 1955

  A few minutes before 11 in the evening

  "That high hat voice comes in handy sometimes." That was Carter. We were in bed. My head was on his chest. "Just don't make a habit of it."

  "Sure." I was running my hand over his chest and wrapping my fingers in his thick red-blond hair.

  "How'd you come up with all that on the spot?"

  "I just imagined my mother was in the audience."

  "Neat trick."

  "Yeah."

  "It'll come in handy when you run for President of Mars someday."

  "Is that before or after we have our honeymoon on Jupiter?"

  Carter sat up in bed and I did the same. He put his hands around my head and pulled me in for a deep kiss. He leaned back and said, "I've been thinking we should honeymoon on Saturn. I'm sure the rings look beautiful at night."

  I laughed and looked at him. "Jupiter or Saturn, I'm in love with you."

  Carter smiled. "That so?"

  I nodded.

  "Funny thing because I'm in love with you, too."

  "I like how that works out."

  We sat in the dim light of a nightlight that was recessed in the wall by the bedroom door. Carter always looked handsome but I was sure he was never more handsome than he was right then.

  I took his left hand and kissed the back of it. "Tonight went pretty well, didn't it?"

  He nodded. "It sure did."

  "What did you end up saying to your mother?"

  He sighed. "I told her that all that mattered was that she was happy."

  "That's what I told Ed. Same thing."

  "She asked if I would give her away."

  "A church wedding?"

  Carter grinned. "Are you kidding? No, sir. We're hosting the wedding."

  I laughed. "Again?" Marnie had married her husband, Alex, the summer before. It had been a memorable event, including the fact that she had slipped and broken her arm as she threw the bridal bouquet. But, if that hadn't happened, we wouldn't have taken their tickets on the S.S. Hilo to Honolulu and wouldn't have met Roz and Freddie.

  "Probably in October."

  I looked at Carter for a moment. "Now, why shouldn't you get in trouble for that?"

  "For what?" He knew exactly what I meant.

  "For agreeing to the wedding without asking me."

  Carter grinned and crossed his arms. He flexed his biceps a little. "And how do you expect to get me back?"

  I sighed. "Anything I can think of off the top of my head would be more of a punishment for me than for you."

  Carter looked at me for a long while. "I dare you to try it."

  I laughed. "You're on, Chief."

  "Does this mean you'll finally be coming to the gym with me?"

  I shook my head. "Not a chance. You know how I feel about physical culture."

  "I know you seem to like its adherents."

  I nodded. "That I do. One in particular." I suddenly remembered one thing. "By the way, Pola Negri said she would give Juan Zane our phone number. I gave it to her right before she and Billy left."

  "That so?"

  I nodded. "But, apparently, he doesn't like giants, so you'll be spared."

  Carter shook his head. "I'll be waiting in the car."

  I shrugged. "Fine."


  We sat there, grinning at each other. I suspected that Carter was waiting for me to make my move. If that was the case, it was going to be a long wait.

  After a long pause, he said, "I think Bette Davis has a crush on you."

  I laughed. "Why do you say that?"

  "Because tonight was the second time she's taken you aside to talk to you."

  I shook my head. "That first time in Newport Beach was because she and her cousin and his wife had already eaten. She's just a very nice gal."

  Carter laughed and stretched out on the bed. He patted his chest and I stretched out and put my head where I most loved resting it. He said, "No one calls her a gal except you."

  "She's just very nice."

  "What did she tell you?"

  "That I should keep my chin up and that I should be good to you and how fortunate we were and what good people we were for spreading our wealth around."

  "Oh. She does sound like a nice gal."

  I laughed. "What did Howard Keel want to talk to you about?"

  "The usual stuff. Technique, diet, whether running was a good idea or not."

  "Is he a weightlifter?"

  "He definitely goes to some gym. He said that he has a hard time building muscle. That's pretty common for men who are more than six feet tall."

  "But not for you." I felt the mound of his right bicep as I said that.

  "No. I guess I'm lucky. But tomorrow I need to go find a gym somewhere."

  I lifted up my head and said, "Why don't you call up Howard Keel? I bet he knows a place."

  Carter nodded thoughtfully. "I guess I could. He seemed like a good guy."

  "Sure."

  "How do I do that?"

  "How do you do what?"

  "Just call up a movie star."

  "You could ask Ben but they're starting production tomorrow. You could always call Walter. I'm sure he's got the home phone number for every person who was there tonight. Or, you could call Billy—"

  "Keel doesn't strike me as a client."

  I nodded. "Me, neither. He's likely a Kinsey 0."

  "Maybe a 1 or 2."