by Kevin Olson
This mantra is repeated every two minutes for ten minutes. At last the microphone is set down and the Green Lama sits quietly in front of his small shrine, clicking his prayer wheel.
A few minutes later, the telephone rings. The Lama answers, “Hello?”
“Hello Dr. Pali, it’s Jean Farrell.”
“Greetings, Né-tso-hbum,” Dr. Pali says.
Jean smiles. “Tulku.”
“How is your acting career going?”
Jean sits in the parlor of her flat at the actor’s rooming house. She says, “I don’t have anything at the moment.”
“Maybe that is for the best. I need your help, Miss Farrell. It seems there is some trouble in Tinseltown. Make a reservation at the Hollywood Roosevelt. Check in the day after tomorrow. I will leave word there. Tashi shog.”
“Pack our bags, Tsarong. We are flying to Los Angeles.”
Jethro Dumont and Tsarong arrive at New York Municipal Airport, eager to catch their early morning flight. Tsarong checks their bags with a skycap and Dumont pays the taxi driver. They walk into the brand new terminal together.
“I hope this place was worth all that taxpayer money,” Dumont says.
“You should visit the LaGuardia Admirals Club,” Tsarong says.
Dumont laughs, “It’s a bit early for that. Perhaps next time; we’ve got a flight to catch.”
They hurry to the gate and board the mighty DC-3, a state of the art aircraft that can reach an altitude of over 20,000 feet and cruise at over 150 miles per hour!
A mere 15 hours later they are pulling up to the Chateau Marmont Hotel. Dumont gets out of the cab stretching his legs. Tsarong follows. A concierge approaches.
“Welcome to the Marmont, Mr. Dumont. Your bungalow is this way,” the young man gestures and escorts Dumont to the private, 2-bedroom hillside bungalow, leaving Tsarong to handle the luggage. Dumont enters the bungalow and retires for the night.
Chapter 2
Triumph and Tragedy
Hot coffee and the morning newspaper get Dumont’s attention.
“Tsarong!” Dumont says.
The man appears from the second bedroom. “Yes, Jethro, what is it?”
“I think that our little favor just got a lot more complicated,” Dumont says, pointing at a headline screaming in massive type.
‘STARLET DEAD ON MUMMY SET – Police Baffled’ the type shouts.
Dumont reads, “Last evening actress Janet Leary was killed when a giant column collapsed on the set of The Mayan Mummy, the new Fay Reynolds picture. Miss Reynolds and dozens of other actors barely escaped being horribly crushed to death. Two crew members were injured. A studio spokesman called it an accident that happened during rehearsal. Studio Police are investigating.”
“My word. I’ll call you a car,” Tsarong says.
Dumont’s car is waved through the Triumph Pictures gate after passing a police inspection. A junior V.P. escorts Dumont to a small screening room in the basement of the executive building. Dumont’s Harvard classmate meets him at the door.
“Jethro, I’m so glad you’ve come,” Herman K. Herman says, “even if it is under such awful circumstances.”
The men shake hands. Dumont notices his friend’s hands are clammy and cold. Dumont says, “Well, hopefully I can help you out.”
“Yes. Come inside,” Herman says. The men enter the screening room and Dumont is surprised that the two men are the only ones there. Herman and Dumont sit down next to a wooden console with a button on it.
Dumont says, “Where’s the crew? What’s going on, Herman?”
“I didn’t want anyone else to see this… You see, we lied to the press – it wasn’t a rehearsal – we have it on film. Janet’s death,” Herman says. “No one has seen this film. Not even me. I’ve been up all night. I oversaw it through the lab myself. I didn’t want any copies made. The original negative is in the safe in my office.”
Dumont looks into his friend’s eyes. Herman is near tears.
“She’s a lovely girl, Jethro. Has… had a real spark,” Herman says, choking back tears. He pushes the button on the console. “Go ahead, Guy.”
The lights go down and the projector’s carbon arc lamp sparks to life. A thin spiral of history uncoils into the machine. On the screen, the scene is slated.
A beautiful Mayan temple fills the screen. A crowd of Mayan extras worthy of an epic line the steps and the stone platform at the summit of the temple. Vines twist around 20 foot tall square pillars at the top of the stairs.
Our view moves in on Janet Leary, playing a Mayan maiden. She is dressed in revealing, exotic Mayan garb. She is lashed to a pole, her chest heaving with excitement. A Mayan Priest wearing a Quetzacóatyl headpiece is screaming up to the gods and speaking a Hollywood version of the Mayan language. He looking skyward. He draws a huge ceremonial knife and moves it to threaten Janet. A bowl is carved in the platform at the base of the pole to capture her blood.
Dumont realizes that the camera must be on a crane because it swoops down to reveal Fay Reynolds racing up the steps. A Mayan warrior steps out to stop her, but she pistol-whips him and he tumbles down. Fay keeps going. She is almost at the summit, almost to the priest.
Just as the priest’s ceremony reaches a crescendo there is an inhuman scream and a bizarre spectral shape flies into view and crashes into one of the huge columns. The column starts tipping and Fay has stopped dead in her tracks. The column is headed right for her, but she is frozen in fear.
Dumont can’t believe what he is seeing. “Run! Run!” he says.
But Fay doesn’t run. The pillar is past the point of no return and the spectral shape shrieks again and flies off screen.
Fay is frozen, the priest runs into the temple behind him, and the extras scramble.
The huge pillar is almost on Fay when the Mayan Maiden, Janet Leary, pulls free of the pillar and dives forward, pushing the star out of the way. Unfortunately, Janet is not so lucky. The huge blocks come down on her, crushing her athletic form.
The film flashes white and then stops.
“The poor girl,” Dumont says. He sits quietly for a moment and then says, “I need to see it again.”
“Four times. I watched that girl die four times. I needed to have each detail in my head. I needed to absorb everything in an attempt to discern what transpired,” Dr. Charles Pali says. He is sitting in the lounge of the Hollywood Roosevelt with Jean Farrell.
Jean puts her hand on his arm in support and says, “That’s awful.” She thinks a moment, and has a realization. “But you had already called me here before that poor girl was killed. I must have been on the plane by then. Her death isn’t the reason you contacted me.” Jean looks him in the eye. “Why are we here?”
Dr. Pali sits for a long moment before he answers. Just as Jean wonders if he will speak he says, “There once was a song bird that stopped singing. Many wise men were brought to the palace to make it sing, but they all failed. The Emperor was terribly saddened because the bird had been a gift from his beloved wife. When she died the bird stopped singing. Finally, a young girl walked by outside the Palace walls playing a cheap bamboo flute and the bird began to sing again.”
“What does this have to do with me?” Jean asks.
Dr. Pali smiles and points at her, “You are the flute player.”
Jean says, “I’m not sure I follow.”
Dr. Pali nods. “Someone is trying to scare off Fay Reynolds. We need to find out who or why, because one will lead to the other,” Pali says. “The suspects are many, but at this time I think we can be assured that it is someone at Triumph Pictures. They may not be working alone, but they need access and the whole picture is being filmed on the lot. Well, it was. The production is shut down for now.”
Jean says, “Put me in with the cast.
I’ll see what I can find out.”
“That’s why you’re here. To play a little bamboo flute – metaphorically speaking, of course. Triumph has already invested a bundle on this picture, so I’m sure they’ll resume production soon. See the producer, Herman K. Herman, and he’ll get you a job on the show.”
Jean Farrell is escorted into Herman K. Herman’s office. The door shuts.
“So, Miss Farrell, you’re interested in acting for Triumph, eh? A friend recommended you,” Herman says with a bit of a wink in his voice.
Jean is curious about the friend. “I needed a break from New York. Too cold.”
“Wonderful. Our friend said I should put you in the cast of The Mayan Mummy, so I will. It’s a small part, but you’re pretty enough, you should be fine.” Herman hands her a contract. “Just sign this and you’ll be on the payroll.”
Jean looks it over and signs.
Herman stands up and says, “Why don’t I show you to your dressing room?”
“I’ll be fine,” Jean says and stands up.
“I insist,” Herman says, putting his arm around her shoulders. “This lot can get very confusing.”
Jean looks away and rolls her eyes, but plays along. “Alright. Lead the way.”
Tsarong sits in a shadow behind a curtain in a small screening room. He has a good angle on the seats as the people come in. After they are seated, Jethro Dumont walks up to the front of the theater.
“My name is Jethro Dumont,” he says. “I recognize a few of you from when I was here last summer. Mr. Herman has asked me to look into the events of the past few days. In order to do that, all of you will need to watch a few particular scenes of the picture. Some of what we will see here is difficult to watch, but we need to find out what has been happening and why. If you could, please introduce yourselves.”
Dumont listens carefully as the Set Designer, Cameraman, Editor, and their assistants introduced themselves. One gentleman is of particular interest to Dumont. His name is Raymond O’Brien and he is the optical camera supervisor.
Dumont asks for the film to roll. The first reel shows the scene of Fay Reynolds entering the tomb through the cobwebbed door. She gets nervous and then the mysterious specter appears and she runs off, terrified. The take plays three times in a row and then the projector stops. The lights come up.
Dumont says to the cameraman, “Mr. Edwards, how’d they do it? It looks pretty real to me, but personally, I don’t think you happened to be lucky enough to catch a real ghost on film.”
Linn Edwards says, “I don’t know, it must have been added to the shot afterwards.”
“That is the obvious answer,” Dumont says, “but is it possible? Mr. O’Brien, could this be done?”
The shy special effects man looks nervous as he is put on the spot. “Yes. It is possible to achieve that look on film. However, there is no way that this shot could have had the ghost added to it and been done in time for the rushes the next day.”
“Thank you,” Dumont says. “Does anyone have a different opinion?”
The room is silent.
Dumont asks for the second roll of film. This time the epic Mayan Temple scene plays out. After the third viewing, Dumont asks the same questions, but no one has an answer. Dumont thanks the crew for coming and lets them go.
Tsarong comes out from behind the curtain. Dumont asks him, “Well, what do you think?”
Tsarong says, “I think that there were a few particular people that looked very uncomfortable watching that film.”
Dumont agrees, “That’s what I thought, too. Both Linn Edwards, the Cameraman, and his assistant both looked like they wanted to be anywhere but here.”
“I would agree with that,” Tsarong says. “And the young man sitting in the back, something was worrying him, too.”
Dumont thinks a moment, “I’m not sure who that was.”
Tsarong says, “I didn’t see the film, I was watching the audience.”
“Let’s run it again,” Dumont says.
They head to the exit of the screening room where an assistant editor is leaving with the film. Dumont calls to him, “Hey! Hold up. I want to see that again.”
The kid stops. When he turns back Dumont and Tsarong realize that he was the kid sitting in the back of the screening room. He comes back carrying a couple of cans of film.
“What’s your name?” Dumont asks.
“Marcus Phillips,” the kid says nervously.
They run the film again. The exterior scene of the Mayan temple is running when Dumont says, “Did you see that?”
“What?” Tsarong says.
“I’m not sure, but I thought I saw a flash of something above the specter,” Dumont says as the lights come up.
“Like what?” Phillips asks.
Dumont grabs the kid’s shoulders. Not hard, but with a solid strength. He looks the kid right in the eye and says, “You have been acting unusually. Like you have something to hide or you have something to say, but are afraid to say it. Spill it.”
Phillips takes a deep breath and says, “The scene where the girl, Janet, you know….” He looks down. “My friend is one of the camera assistants and he was running a second camera. He…he missed the beginning of the take and then the film ran out and the pillar fell and he’d rather no one knew about this. He asked me not to tell anyone, but there is more film.”
Phillips runs back with another can of film and hands it to the projectionist.
The film starts. This camera is filming a very wide view of the scene. So wide, in fact, that the other camera crew can be seen in the shot. Just as the pillar starts to move, the scene goes white and the film runs out.
“Oh, well, not much to see there,” Phillips says. “My friend got the ‘A’ camera crew in the shot. No wonder he didn’t want anyone to see it. That could ruin his career.”
“I saw enough,” Dumont says. “Thanks, kid. Keep this under your hat, would ya?”
He grins, “Sure thing, Mr. Dumont.”
“What was your friend’s name?”
Phillips pauses a moment. “Alright. You seem like a good egg. His name is Dave Huey. Please don’t get him in trouble.”
“Trouble comes to those that look for it. I seek only answers.”
Phillips looks relieved.
“Oh, and I’ll hang onto the film for a bit,” Dumont says. The assistant editor leaves.
Dumont gives some instructions to Tsarong and then says, “I’m going back to Herman’s office to get the negatives. I’ll meet you at the bungalow after dinner.”
Jean Farrell is walking across the Triumph Pictures lot toward the Sunset Boulevard gate when she hears an argument flare up. She peeks around the corner and sees two men arguing in the doorway of Stage 7.
“You’re fired! You have messed up every step of the way! Get off this lot and never come back!” Jean recognizes the screamer as Linn Edwards, the Mayan Mummy cinematographer.
“What did I ever do to you?” the other man, Linn’s assistant Dave Huey says.
“Do? You are incompetent! Worse,” Linn says, flashing a look into the dark stage, “you are meddling in places where you have no business.”
Dave Huey’s eyes look into the darkness of Stage 7. “And you are a control freak. I’ve seen what’s in there. Believe me, Mr. Herman and Mr. Dumont will be hearing about that!” Dave says.
“Shut up!” Linn says. “Shut up!” He slams Dave Huey against the huge stage door. The young man tries to squirm loose, but isn’t succeeding. Linn throws him through the door into the darkness beyond.
Jean looks around, but no one else is in sight. She creeps up to the edge of the open door. Silence. She waits and after a few minutes steels herself to go in. She takes a step and Linn Edwards strolls out of the door, righ
t in front of her. Jean jumps back, startled. “Oh! Mr. Edwards…” she says.
He pushes past her and heads off with determination. When he has rounded a corner, she steps into the stage.
It is dark and quiet inside. Jean can make out the outline of a doorway on the opposite side of the stage. Jean waits a moment for her eyes to adjust. She looks around the stage. There is a bit of lumber laying on the floor and a huge piece of black duvetyn covering one wall, but otherwise the place seems empty. Then Jean notices a large lump on the concrete floor next to the black fabric.
She creeps up to it and pokes it with her toe. It is solid. Jean carefully lifts the black fabric. Hidden underneath are cases of fresh Kodak movie film. Jean pulls back the black duvetyn a little farther and gasps when she sees a large tin of gunpowder.
A scuffle startles Jean. She looks up and sees the door open on the other side of the stage. A shadow crosses the shaft of light from the open door. Huey must have left, Jean thinks and decides she better follow the cinematographer. She runs out of the same stage door she came in and heads for the studio gate.
Jean sees Linn get into his car and start it. He exits the gates of Triumph Studios in his tan sedan. Jean breaks into a run, hailing a cab as she rushes past the protesting guard at the gate. A hack pulls up and Jean jumps in.
“Follow that car!” she says and the cab pulls away.
It is just a few miles down Western when the tan sedan pulls into the El Cholo Restaurant parking lot. Linn leaves his car with the valet and enters the restaurant. A few minutes later, Jean Farrell climbs out of the cab and steps into the Mexican eatery.
Jethro Dumont returns to his bungalow at the Chateau Marmont. Orange evening sunlight streams in, reflecting off the private pool. A patio is next to the pool and can be seen from the living room through a long wall of glass. Tsarong meets Dumont at the door. Dumont says, “Did you get it?”
“Yes, sir. I’ve got it set up in the smaller bath,” Tsarong says.