ALM02 The Death of a Celebrity
Page 2
“Dad’s parties are not silly,” said Cynthia.
“By morning we could be in Virginia,” murmured Siebert. “You are sweet enough to eat.”
“Long before morning we should be quarrelling.” said Cynthia.
“Well, is it my fault that we always seem to get in a quarrel?”
“Is it mine?” countered Cynthia.
“Let’s not start anything now,” said Siebert quickly. “Let me put the case to you in a matter-of-fact way without any heat or passion. I am horribly in love with you. I have gone all out. To be beside you like this is heaven for me. Does that make you sore?”
“Of course not,” she said in a softened voice.
“You have me to make or break,” he went on. “You come between me and everything. Naturally, such a state of suspense is hell on earth. I am good for nothing.”
“That seems a little excessive to me,” said Cynthia.
“Excessive!” he exclaimed. “Do you want a half portion of love? Do you wish that I wasn’t completely in love with you?”
“No .. yes … I don’t know,” she said. “I suppose it would be better for you it you weren’t.”
“Do you love me back again?”
“Well, yes, in a way.”
“In a way! … In a way!” he muttered, pounding a fist on his thigh. “That’s what gets me! How can any warm-blooded person be in love ‘m a way’?”
“Well, it hasn’t swamped my intelligence,” said Cynthia.
“Meaning that it has mine.”
“Now you’re beginning to quarrel.”
“No! No!” he said quickly. “I am perfectly cool and reasonable. I’m trying to get to the bottom of this. I’m head over heels in love with you, and you love me ‘m a way’; why don’t we get married?”
“I’ve told you so many times …”
“Yes, but always with anger and insults. Consequently it wasn’t convincing. Let’s talk it over calmly. We could afford to get married. My agency is only a small affair, but it’s solidly founded because I only accept authors for my clients who have something in them, and I do so well for them they will never leave me. Year by year it is bound to pay better. O, God! to think of having a home! To come home to you at night …”
“You forgot that I have my job, too, at the clinic.”
“I admit I am jealous of your job,” said Siebert “You are not hard-boiled enough to deal with sick people all day. It takes too much out of you.”
“I have the feeling of being useful,” said Cynthia. “There is nothing to beat it.”
“I wouldn’t mind if you worked at home. You should write like your father, and let me be your agent.”
“I have no talent for writing.”
“Well, I concede the job at the clinic,” he said. “We can afford a good servant. Don’t you want a home, too? Wouldn’t it be lovely to meet in our own home after work and be together until we went to work again?”
“Yes,” said Cynthia a little faintly; “but …”
“Then why don’t we do it?” Taking a hand from the wheel he felt for Cynthia’s hand, but she drew it back out of reach.
“This is where we begin to quarrel,” she said sadly. “Not to-night,” said Siebert. “You couldn’t make me mad.”
“This longing to be together,” she murmured, “this love, doesn’t last-or at least it changes very much. All older people, all books tell you that.”
“The heck with them!” said Siebert. “I will never change.”
“And when it changes, we’ve got to have something more solid to go on with.”
“Time will take care of that.”
“You are simply refusing to face things. That’s what brings couples to Reno.”
“Cyn, for God’s sake, if we love each other, why go behind it?”
“You’re such a boy!” she murmured.
“Is that where I fall short?”
“Yes. I see through you too clearly. You’re no wiser than I am. You never surprise me.”
“Well, I’m damned!” he muttered. And after a silence, grimly: “I could surprise you all right, if I didn’t love you so damned much!”
“I shall never marry,” said Cynthia, “unless some man wants me who I feel is bigger and cleverer than myself, and who has reserves that I cannot enter into.”
“In other words, a Gavin Dordress,” he said with extreme bitterness.
“Now you’re just being hateful.”
“This feeling for your father is ridiculous!”
“It’s not ridiculous; it’s only unusual. The circumstances are unusual. It’s just a year ago since I saw my father for the first time. My mother was a foolish, light-headed woman. She was jealous of his popularity and his fame. Soon after I was born she divorced him, and regretted it as long as she lived. She kept me away from him, and he made no effort to see me because, as he has told me since, he thought the most important thing was not to come between a child and its mother. Her bitterness against him was pathological, and naturally I absorbed it. I grew up thinking of him as a kind of monster.
“When I did go to see him after my mother’s death, it was not with any idea of finding a father; I simply meant to use him as a means of getting on in the world. And then when I saw him and talked to him … O, Siebert! I thought I was hiding my hatred and bitterness, but of course he instantly saw it, though he made believe not to. He was so funny and human and casual; so honest! Not like a father at all, but somebody my own age. I felt a sympathy and understanding such as I had never known in my mother. Yet he didn’t make any effort to win me over, but just let me alone. All my defences went down immediately. I wanted to grovel before him then. I felt as if it would take the rest of my life to make up for the way I misjudged him.”
“Well, that’s all right,” said Siebert grudgingly. “Gavin’s a right guy. He’s your father. He doesn’t conflict with me. I aim to be your husband.” He laughed, not very mirthfully. “A fellow is heavily handicapped in marrying the daughter of such a superman, but I’ll chance it.”
Cynthia did not respond to the laugh. “You don’t understand,” she said. “During the past year my father has given me an ideal that I-well, I couldn’t take anything less than my ideal, could I?”
Siebert glanced at her in dismay. “Cynthia!”
“You asked for the plain truth,” she cried, “and there it is!”
“Damn Gavin Dordress!” he said savagely.
“I hate you when you talk like that!” said Cynthia, teething. “You are merely coarse and shallow! You understand nothing!”
“Damn him!” said Siebert. “I hate him!”
Cynthia was near tears then. “You knew him before I came on the scene. It was at his place that I first met you. You were his friend.”
“Sure, I was his friend. I don’t mean to say that Gavin is a crook or anything. But if he comes between me and you I hate him! It’s a natural feeling and I’m not ashamed of it. Damn him! I say. I’m no pious saint to turn the other cheek. If anybody hurts me I’m going to strike back!”
“Well, I’m glad you have shown yourself in your true colours!” said Cynthia.
“God! I’d like to shake you!” groaned Siebert. “I’d like to shake some sense into your silly head!”
“Really!” said Cynthia.
They drove up in front of Gavin’s house. “I suppose we’ve got to sit through this damn dinner,” he growled.
“I’ll see that you’re not placed beside me,” said Cynthia.
“Go on in,” he said. “I’ll find a parking place and follow.”
The bulbs flashed as Miss Dordress crossed the sidewalk. “Hold your head up!” yelled the photographers, but she only pressed it lower. When Siebert followed a few minutes later, one said: “Wipe off that scowl, brother.”
“Go to hell,” said Siebert. The bulbs flashed anyhow. “Miss Dordress’ escort,” said a voice. “What’s the name, please?”
“Julius Caesar,” said Siebert.
She said: “On the level, Pop, you didn’t wangle this invitation for me, did you? Was it Mr. Dordress’ very own idea to ask me?”
“Absolutely,” said Lee. “He said to me: ‘Lee, I’m short of a female for Sunday night. Do you think that cheeky little secretary of yours would condescend to accept an invitation?”
“Go on, Pop!” said Fanny. “Mr. Dordress never said that. He is too dignified.”
“You don’t know the half of it, my child. Of course I couldn’t swear to his exact words, but that was the sense of it.”
“O, dear!” said Fanny after a moment. “I suppose he does think I’m pretty fresh.”
“Well, he’s considered a good judge of human nature.”
“I didn’t tell you what happened that day he came to your office, Pop. I was ashamed.”
“Good God! Did you assault the man?”
“Don’t try to be funny! … You see, the Police Commissioner was with you, and Mr. Dordress had to wait a few minutes in the outer room. He looked at me in such a friendly way, I mean as if I was a human being, and not just a piece of office furniture, and we got to talking. I can’t tell you just how it came about-I was fussed, you see, at being noticed by the great man, and I heard myself saying: ‘Mr. Dordress, I think the women in your plays are terrible!’”
Lee chuckled. “Not a bad opening. And what did Gavin say?”
“He said: ‘I think so too!’”
Lee laughed aloud. “It is undoubtedly to that that you owe your invitation to dinner. Gavin is fed up with women who throw fits over him. Strange as it may seem, he’s a modest man.”
“How kind of him to ask little me!” said Fanny “Do I look all right, Pop? I won’t disgrace you?”
“You do, and you will not,” said Lee calmly. “You know that very well already, so stop insulting my intelligence.”
“Some men wouldn’t force me to fish for compliments,” said Fanny.
“I’m your boss, not your boy friend.”
“Who will be there besides us?”
“I gather it’s a kind of class reunion; Yale ‘13. Mack Townley and his new wife …”
“That’s Beatrice Ellerman. She’s beautiful.”
“Hm!” said Lee.
“Don’t you like her, Pop?”
“A man never likes the young wives of his old friends. I think she’s taking Mack for a ride.”
“But surely, with his experience he ought to know what he’s doing. After all the beautiful actresses he has hired and fired in his productions.”
“That’s just it. Over-confidence. Mack thinks he knows the sex. A man can’t have his guard up all the time. She watched him until he lowered it, and pinked him! No man is safe.”
“You have escaped.”
“That’s because I know my own weakness. I never try conclusions with a woman. I run away.”
“Have you never been in love?”
“Never! I would as soon toy with a cobra!”
“I think you’re lying! … Who else will be there?”
“Emmett Gundy.”
“Who’s he?”
“Another one of our classmates. He writes novels. At least, I suppose he still does. I haven’t seen anything from his pen lately. In college Emmett was considered the brightest of the lot. But he seems to have flashed in the pan.”
“Who is asked for him?”
“I don’t know. Years ago Emmett had a girl called Louella Kip. Sweet little thing, and absolutely devoted to him. I have forgotten whether he married her. Gavin keeps up with him.”
“You four were special friends in college?”
“Yes, pretty close. But in a little gang like that there are always fellows who pair off. Gavin and I were the closest. We had been to prep school together. Great days! Seems like yesterday. How well I remember when we discovered the Phoenician alphabet in an old book. For years we used to correspond in it.”
“Your class was quite a distinguished one,” said Fanny, “what with Gavin Dordress and Mr. Townley and this novelist whoever he is.”
“Gavin Dordress is the only real star we produced.”
“O, I don’t know, Pop, you’re not so dusty. Of course, you haven’t an immense popular following like Gavin Dordress, because you’re a specialist. But you’re known, your books sell. You’re at the head of your speciality.”
“Crime, eh?”
“I love it!” said Fanny. “How did you come to adopt crime, Pop?”
“I suppose it’s because I’m such a mild man… . And of course Gavin’s daughter and her young man will be there,” he went on.
“He’s cute,” said Fanny.
“Quite!” said Lee. “Six foot two of cuteness!”
“And what lady will Mr. Dordress ask for himself?”
“O, Gail Garrett, of course.”
“Why ‘of course’? Is that still going on?”
“I don’t understand you.”
“All right. Prude … Gosh! Think of being asked to dinner with Gail Garrett! I shall be perfectly overwhelmed!”
“Then we will see a phenomenon!”
“That’s not very clever … You don’t know me, Pop. I mean to be perfectly quiet to-night and take everything in.”
“Impossible!”
“What’s Gail Garrett like, close to?”
“How am I to answer that? A popular star for twenty-five years. She’s not like a mere woman; she’s a Broadway institution.”
“She must be human.”
“O, quite!” said Lee dryly, “in the wrong way … She won’t cotton to you.”
“Why not? Everybody likes me-or almost everybody.”
“Because you have twenty years advantage of her, that’s why.”
“I see. Well, I’ll try not to provoke her.”
As Lee and Fanny approached the steps of the apartment house where Gavin Dordress lived, a photographer said: “Are you going to Mr. Dordress’?”
“Such was our intention,” said Lee in his mild manner. “But if Dordress is unfair to labour we’ll eat elsewhere.”
The photographers grinned and set off their flashes. “What name, please?”
“Amos Lee Mappin.”
“O, the detective.”
“Nothing of the sort,” said Lee. Fanny was delighted to see Pop getting a little of his own back. “If you must hang a label on me make it ‘amateur criminologist.’”
“Amateur nothing,” said the young man, making a note; “famous criminologist … And the young lady?”
“Miss Frances Parran … You can add that I am the author of The Fine Art of Murder on sale at all bookstores.”
“The heck with it!” said the young man. “You’re the guy that the police consulted in respect to the wash-tub murder. You solved it for them. That’s your news-value.”
“Well, just as you like,” said Lee. He and Fanny entered the apartment house.
BEA ELLERMAN, now, officially, Mrs. Mack Townley, was one of the most beautiful women in the public eye, and the little cushions of self-satisfaction at the corners of her adorable lips suggested that she knew it. Her tall figure, her classic features, her soft dark hair, all were perfect, and she had in addition that all-over lusciousness of aspect that defies description. Her husband could deny her nothing. She was wearing a Hattie Carnegie dress of stiff blue silk besprinkled with tiny gold stars and a fifty-thousand dollar sable coat; clips, necklace and bracelet of diamonds and emeralds. She sat a little forward in the taxi, smoothing the wrinkles out of her gloves, while Mack from his corner watched her with a kind of agony of desire and frustration. A tall man, Mack, beginning to grow a little heavy; dark, handsome, self-indu
lgent face; famous for his perfect grooming. “We’re half an hour late,” he growled.
“What of it?” said Bea. “They won’t sit down without us.”
“It’s damn bad manners!”
“Nonsense. Nobody’s on time. Not important people anyhow. I aimed to be late to-night.”
“Why, for God’s sake?”
“Because I wasn’t going to let Gail Garrett make an entrance on me. That old woman!”
“All right,” growled Mack. “But please remember that she’s still an important person in my business.”
“She’s slipping fast. It’s ridiculous the way she tries to hang on to Gavin Dordress. Anybody can sec that he is sick of her.”
“What is it to you?”
“Nothing. But I hate to see Gavin made a fool of.”
“Leave it to him.”
“A man is no match for a woman in a situation like this. Gavin needs the help of another woman in getting rid of Gail Garrett.”
A spasm of anger crossed Mack’s face. “Meaning yourself?” Bea smiled confidently. “You keep out of this!” growled Mack. “I won’t have it!”
Bea leaned over and slid the glass across so that the chauffeur could not hear. “Don’t speak to me like that,” she said coldly. “I am not accustomed to it.”
“All right,” said Mack. “But you leave Garrett alone, that’s all.”
“So she’s important to you,” said Bea with a disagreeable smile. “Are you thinking of engaging her?”
“No. But I don’t want any feud started.”
“Mercy! I’m not going to do anything. I don’t have to. The woman already hates me as much as it is possible for one woman to hate another.”
“All right,” growled Mack.