by Louise Corum
He shook his head. “Don’t, Caddy, just don’t. I don’t want you to see it.”
“See what?”
His face dropped and I knew. I knew. I turned and flew into the living room. And there she lay—dead. All of her, gone. Gone for good. Gone forever. There she was, what was left of her, lying in a pool of her own blood.
I didn’t break down immediately because, really, I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want to face it, this horrible thing.
But I had to face it, especially when it stared at me so horribly, so realistically. I think I might have screamed, I don’t remember. All I remember was falling to the floor where she lay in her own blood and praying to God that this was a bad dream.
She lay in the same position that she had in the final scene of Nervous Tension. The first movie she’d ever done, our movie. The final scene has a maid, who’s always been jealous of her, gunning her down in her own living room.
She lay there, silent. No more words would come out of her lovely mouth. Ever. I hated that. I hated that I’d never hear her voice again. I’d never see that smile. That smile that had warmed me so.
She lay in a pair of Capri pants, a nice summer top and bare feet. She’d been on the beach that night, I knew that. She always took a walk alone on the beach every night. “My little escape,” she’d say and head off, alone. She’d return an hour or so later, refreshed as if she’d been to a spa. She’d be happy, she’d tease. She would laugh.
There would be no more happy. No more tease. She was gone. And I couldn’t bring her back, no matter what.
I must stop now. I am crying so much I can barely see.
Yours,
C.
* * * * *
September 19th
Dearest Marabel,
I will jump right in and get this part over with. I hope to keep it short and simple and to the point, as it is a very difficult time in my life where I felt my most vulnerable. And my most lost.
I knew what had happened I didn’t have to ask. I didn’t have to. Duncan had followed me into the living room where Carmen lay.
“I didn’t do it,” he said.
“You liar,” I sobbed.
“I didn’t, Caddy,” he said again. “I didn’t kill her. We fought, she pulled out a gun. We fought over it and it went off.”
I turned to him, my fists shaking. “You liar!”
“I’m not lying,” he whispered more to himself than to me.
I was crying so hard, I couldn’t stop. “Why didn’t you call somebody?”
“She told me not to.”
“Liar!”
He shook his head. “She told me not to, she said, don’t, if I can’t have him, I don’t want to live.”
“You fucking lowlife bastard!” I screamed and stood, stalking over to him and pointed my finger right in his face. “Nick is down here! They were together!”
He shook his head. “No, Nick’s still in New York.”
“How do you know?”
“I know.”
“You should have called a doctor,” I wailed.
He broke down in sobs. “I know I should have! I should have! I don’t know why I didn’t.”
“I know why,” I said, pointing at him. “Because there was no need of a doctor, was there? You shot her and she died almost immediately, didn’t she? Just like in some fucking movie!”
He looked away but the look on his face confirmed my suspicions.
“You’re going to pay for this,” I said. “You’re going to pay, if it’s the last thing I ever do in my life, I will make sure you pay, Duncan.”
He seemed to understand that. “They’re coming.”
“Who?”
“The police.”
“You called the police?” I asked, astounded.
“As soon as you got here, I called the police.”
I hadn’t even heard. I’d been crying too hard. I was still crying.
“We have to get our story straight,” he began. “We have to—”
I slapped him with all my might. “I know what happened! I know! And don’t think I won’t tell them everything.”
He kept on as if I hadn’t slapped him, as if he hadn’t heard me, “And when they get here, they’ll know what happened. They’ll know I didn’t kill her.”
“You did kill her!”
“No, no, I didn’t.”
I grabbed him and shook him. “Yes, you did!”
He pulled away from me. “Maybe you killed her.”
I was momentarily stunned.
“Ever been in prison, Caddy? Huh? You wouldn’t like it, I can tell you that. So, I’m asking you now, how do I know you didn’t do it?”
So, this was the way it was going to be. If I didn’t go along with him, I could be indicted on a crime I didn’t commit. I was stuck. I couldn’t go anywhere. Do anything.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” I said.
He said, “I’ll tell you what really happened and then we can get the real story straight, okay? I came down here. We argued. She pulled a gun out on me. We fought. It went off. Got it?”
“Fuck you.”
He grabbed me and repeated, “I came down here. We argued. She pulled a gun on me. We fought. It went off.” He shook me again. “Got it!”
I was sick. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t. But it was.
“If not, Caddy, it’ll go a little something like this: I came down here to talk to her about her contract. When I got here, I saw that she’d been shot by her lesbian lover. I called the police while you cried by her side.”
“Why are you doing this?” I asked.
“You know why. Now go along with the story or go down with it. Your choice.”
What choice did I have? I stared over at her. I couldn’t do this; I couldn’t let him get away with it. I didn’t have any time to think. All of a sudden, there were knocks at the door. Duncan let the police in and gave them the story, which was translated by an interpreter. We went down to the station where we were further interrogated.
When they asked me what happened, this is what I told them: “He came down here. They argued. She pulled out a gun. They fought. The gun went off.”
And I was released. So was he.
We went back home, separately. I stayed inside my house for about a month. Carmen’s body was transported back to Tennessee where her family held a small, private memorial service for her. I did not go. I could not go. I heard there were a lot of people who came. The press also made their way there, as it was a major scandal.
You might not understand the scale of this, dear Marabel, because Carmen isn’t as well known now as she was then. But back then, she was as big an actress as someone like Marilyn Monroe or some of the others. Unfortunately, she wasn’t around long enough to ensure her immortality. But when she died, the whole world went mad with the news of her death. They were memorial services all over the world and people grieving. She was much loved. She was very missed.
But no one knew the real story. Everyone pretty much believed it was the way Duncan said it was. But, of course, there was some lore about it, too. There were stories of her being a drunk or on some sort of drug or committing suicide or what have you. Some people made up stories about how she died of a broken heart because she and Nick had broken up. There were all kinds of stories about her death but only a few select people really knew what happened. I was one of them.
It was, in essence, a crime of passion. Sure, that’s what it was. Regardless, it was a waste. To think that a man could not control his own emotions enough not to hurt the one he supposedly loved the most.
I could go on and on about this, but, alas, I will not. I see no need. What was done was done. There wasn’t anything I could do about it now. I know Duncan shot her. I have no real proof, but I know he did it. I know he killed her in a fit of rage but I wasn’t there. I should have been, though. I should have been there to protect her.
I tried to put it out of my mind. But then, after the first month without her, I began to have nightmares that would not let me rest. I dreaded going to sleep at night and became something of an insomniac. I began to think about things. I began to think about how Duncan was getting away with murder, just because of who he was. Anger began to boil inside me. The anger would not let me go; it would not let me rest. How dare he do that?! How dare he do that and claim it was an accident? How dare he?!
I knew going to him and asking him to confess would be futile. Instead, I went to his former brother-in-law, the chief of the studio. The studio where I was still working, albeit, sporadically.
Andrew Millsap saw me. He humored me. This is what happened.
“Good to see you, Caddy,” he said, pleasantly enough.
“Afternoon,” I said and sat down in a chair in front of his desk.
“What brings you in here?”
“It’s about Carmen.”
He nodded, placing his hand under his chin. “Yes, what a shame, really.”
“You know that Duncan killed her.”
His left eyebrow shot up. “No, from what I understand, it was an accident.”
I sighed. I knew then and there I wasn’t going to get anywhere with him. I continued nonetheless, “I was there that night. I know he did it.”
He shook his head. “You’re mistaken.”
“Oh, come on,” I said, letting my emotions take over. “He knew she’d never love him and he killed her!”
“Sounds like a plot for a movie, my dear. Maybe you should write it.”
“It’s the truth!” I hissed.
“And truth, as they say, is stranger than fiction.”
I glared at him. “He killed her.”
He sighed, as if he were humoring me and opened a desk drawer. He pulled out a folder and tossed it over to me.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“The autopsy report.”
I shuddered, but opened the file nevertheless. Then, if I’d ever had a doubt, I knew for sure. The bullet was not from her own gun. I knew the bullet type and that was not the bullet type.
I stared over at him. I told him this.
“Might you have the murder weapon?” he asked.
Of course I didn’t. I shook my head.
“Do you have her gun?” he asked.
I couldn’t answer. The police had come in so quickly, I didn’t even remember seeing it. I had to shake my head. I stared at him and realized that he and Duncan had probably paid the police off to keep this as hush-hush as they could. Then I realized why he might be protecting Duncan and that reason was obvious—Duncan probably had something on him. Now it all made sense, why he’d put up with him for all these years, why he’d propped him up, why he’d forced Carmen to go out with him. What was Andrew Millsap’s secret? What did Duncan have on him? I’d never know and, quite truthfully, I didn’t want to know.
“Then you have no case for your accusations,” he said and leaned over and retrieved the folder from my hands. “And I suggest that you keep this meeting to yourself. Or, perhaps, you might just find yourself out of a job.”
He wasn’t threatening me. He was warning me.
I sighed and said, “I don’t suppose I would like to work for a place that allows its employees to get away with murder.”
“Go home, Caddy,” he said as if he’d tired. “Go home and think about all this. Think, too, about how easy you got it. Think about the good paychecks and the good people you know. You won’t have what you have here anywhere else.”
“I don’t care!” I screamed at him. “Carmen was my best friend! I have to do this for her!”
“You’ve done what you can,” he said. “You’ve made your case, and now you must know that this is where it will all end. I don’t need any more scandal right now. Carmen was a lovely girl and I can see why some men might go crazy for her. But, my dear, she was no angel.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means what it means,” he said. “You may do what you must, but you must realize that her good name will be smeared in the process. We all know about her abortions, her lovers and her eccentric behavior. All this will come out if you continue.”
“She only had one abortion,” I said.
He threw his head back and laughed. “Only one? Is that a fact?”
I glared at him, knowing what he was saying was probably true. Even so, I said, “You’re full of shit.”
“No, you go to the press and this will all come out,” he said. “The press will tear her apart. They need to sell papers and this kind of thing will sell lots of them, but when it’s all said and done, nothing will have changed. Except a once beloved public figure is now tainted.”
He was right. Carmen’s name would be ruined. All of her fans would be so disappointed. I glared at him, shaking my head. “You bastard.”
“Caddy, I really don’t have the time for this.”
He leaned back in his chair and pointed at the door. “Now you just remember all that I’ve said here before you go opening your big mouth. You’ve got it good here and we’d like to keep you on, but if you persist with this fantasy, I will have you blackballed.”
I didn’t care. I told him so.
He chuckled. “You’ve always had it too good. Maybe if you weren’t so fortunate, if you had to work harder for your money or go hungry for a while, you might realize that.”
“Fuck you,” I said calmly and made my way to the door. “And I will bring Duncan down. If this studio comes down with him, so be it.”
“Caddy,” he said. “Need I remind you that your sister, Andrea, is still under contract here?”
I froze and turned to him. “I can’t believe you, Andrew. I can’t believe how you’re treating this.”
“It’s just the way things are, Caddy,” he said. “You go now, you go back home and you forget about all this.”
“Oh, I’ll go home,” I said. “But I will never forget what happened.”
And I left. And I didn’t heed his orders. But I had to act quickly because I knew I would soon be tossed out on my ass regardless of what I did. I ran over to Herbert’s office. He wasn’t there. I had forgotten he was shooting. I found the sound stage and rushed in. Thank God they were on a break.
“Herbert,” I said, pulling him away from his actors. “I need to talk to you.”
“What is it Caddy?” he asked. “I’m kinda in the middle of something.”
“Herbert, now!” I grabbed his arm and forced him into a dressing room.
“What’s this all about?” he asked and leaned against the door, crossing his arms.
“It’s about Carmen.”
He sighed. “Caddy, you need to let this go. I’m telling you—”
“Listen to me! Andrew says if I do anything he’s going to blackball me!”
“And that comes as a surprise?” he said, scoffing. “Come on! Grow up!”
I stared at him. This was not the reaction I’d been expecting. I hissed, “What is wrong with you? She was our friend.”
He nodded. “And now she’s gone and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. And there’s nothing you can do, either.”
“Yes, there is! I can go to the police!”
He scoffed. “Sure, go to the police. And you know what’ll happen then? Duncan will say he was covering for you. That you killed your lesbian lover in a fit of rage.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Come on,” he said, shaking his head. “We all know, Caddy, we all know about you and her. Everyone on the lot knew! You two didn’t even try to cover it up. You can’t go walking around holding hands and whispering in each other’s ears without people figuring out what’s going on!”
My face flushed. I hadn’t realized we’d been so careless.
He said, “You’re only going to get blacklisted, which is worse than getting fired, Caddy. No ot
her studio will want any of us. And not only are you going to do this to yourself, but everyone else associated with you will come down, too. And then you’re really going to have enemies.”
“I thought you were my friend,” I muttered.
“I am, but if you keep this up, no, I won’t be. I like it here. I grew up a poor and a homosexual. I won’t go back there. There isn’t room for people like me in Texas. Here, I can do what I want and as long as I keep it quiet and make them money, they don’t care.”
I almost cried. If I hadn’t been so angry, I would have.
“I won’t go down with you, Caddy,” he said and touched my arm.
I jerked away. The tears came anyway. I cried, “I can’t believe you! You’re a coward!”
He nodded. “I am a coward, but I’m a coward who knows how good he’s got it. And I won’t give it up for something like this; it really doesn’t have anything to do with me.”
I wiped my tears and glared at him.
“When you get right down to it, it doesn’t have much to do with you, either. Once you realize that, you’ll be fine.”
“I loved her!” I exclaimed.
He nodded. “We all did. That’s why we have to let her rest in peace.”
I glared at him.
“And, Caddy, it was an accident.”
“It was not!” I yelled.
He nodded. “Yes, it was.”
“It wasn’t even a bullet from her own gun! I saw the report!”
He shook his head in denial. I hated that. He was breaking my heart. He didn’t care, though.
“Caddy, go home,” he said. “I’ve got to get back to work.”
And with that, he left me. We haven’t spoken since.
I next went to my ex-lover next, Carmen’s ex-lover, too, Vic. Inside his mansion, he pretty much told me the same thing Herbert had.
“I want to and I’m devastated,” he began. “But, no, I can’t.”
“Why?”
“I just can’t. I loved her too, you know? I wanted to marry her, but she wouldn’t.”
I stared at him. “Why?”
He stared back. “She was in love with someone else.”
“Who?” I asked.