“Of course he is,” Dad said in my defense. “You can get on with your life and close that dark chapter for good now.”
“You know,” I said, “this is one of those details that Henry Mandell would like to know about. He’ll slide this into the story seamlessly. Another human interest tidbit, as he puts it.”
*****
It had been nearly six months since Dad and Gloria and I had given Henry Mandell our interviews. He’d kept in sporadic contact with us during that time but soon the calls stopped. Apparently he had nothing more to add until the book was actually in print and on the book store shelves. That was the reason for his call that morning.
“Cooper Investigations,” Gloria said. “Gloria Cooper speaking.
“Good morning, Gloria,” the man said. “This is Henry Mandell. Remember me?”
“Of course, Henry,” Gloria said. “We were beginning to think you’d forgotten about us. How’s the book coming along?”
“That’s why I’m calling,” Henry said. “It’s finished and printed and in the bookstores even as we speak. I was wondering if I could drop by the office with some complimentary copies for all of you.”
“Sure,” Gloria said. “When did you want to do that?”
“I’m in the neighborhood,” Henry said. “Would twenty minutes be too soon?”
“Not at all, Henry,” Gloria said. “We’ll be waiting for you. Thanks for calling.”
Gloria hung up and looked up to see Dad and me staring at her.
“That was Henry Mandell,” Gloria said.
“Yes,” I said. “We gathered that much. What’s the latest on the book?”
Gloria slammed both palms down hard on her desk. “He’s coming here with some complimentary copies for all of us. He’ll be here in twenty minutes.”
“We’ll have to catch him another time,” I said. “Remember? We’re going to lunch today.” I paused and waited for the reaction that I knew was coming.
“What?” Gloria said. “What lunch?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Dad said.
I laughed at both of them. “Gotcha,” I said, still laughing. “Of course we’ll be here when he gets here. I’m just as curious as both of you to get a look at it.”
Fifteen minutes later Henry walked through the door with a handful of books. He smiled when he saw us eagerly waiting for him. Without further small talk he gave each of us a copy of the book and set two more down on Gloria’s desk. “You can give one to Dean Hollister,” Henry said. “And there’s an extra one there for whoever wants it.”
I looked at the cover. It showed a black and white composite photo of a typical private eye dressed in a trench coat and fedora, the man’s head tilted down, covering his eyes. Behind him stood the smaller silhouette of another man, similarly dressed. And finally behind that man and slightly to the left stood a third man is similar garb looking toward the first tow figures. I took them to represent me and Dad and Grandpa Matt. The title of the book was The Not-So-Private Eyes. I turned to Henry. “I don’t get it,” I said, referring to the title.
We all mumbled our gratitude and immediately opened our copies of the book and began scanning the pages. “I have to say,” Henry told us, “that the secretary who typed this all up from the ghost writer’s notes did a splendid job except for…”
I looked up from my copy of the book. Gloria and Dad just kept perusing through their copies. “Except for what?” I said, closing my book.
Dad and Gloria had now closed their copies, too, and turned to look at Henry. “What did they screw up?” Dad said.
Henry looked at me and softly said, “I’m sorry, Elliott. I crossed certain things out of my notes but the secretary who was transcribing from the digital recorder didn’t know that some parts were supposed to be eliminated.”
“Which parts?” I said, my voice taking on a harder edge.
“Henry held another copy of the book in his hand. Sticking out of the top was a slip of paper, marking a specific page. He opened the book to that page and handed it to me. I read a paragraph or two and then looked at Henry sharply.
“I’m really sorry, Elliott,” Henry said.
Gloria wandered over to where I stood with Henry’s copy of the book open. “Can I see it, Elliott?” she said.
I reluctantly handed it to Gloria and took two steps to my left. Gloria read the passage and handed the book to Dad, who was trying to see over her shoulder. When Dad finished, he closed the book and tried not to look up at me. Gloria also had trouble making eye contact with me.
Henry felt uncomfortable and said, “I really have to be going now. And again, I’m sorry for the mix-up.”
Suddenly something dawned on me. “What about the movie?” I said. “Is it going to be in there, too?”
Henry nodded. “I’m afraid so, Elliott,” he said. “Century Studios bought the rights even before the book made it to print. They’re already in production.” Henry checked his watch again and reminded us that he was late for another appointment. He was out the door before I could even think of another question.
The silence hung in the room like a curtain in the moments following Henry’s departure. Finally Dad broke the silence and said, “Elliott, I don’t know what there is to say, except that you weren’t even in the picture when Gloria and I were involved. Later, after we both decided to break it off, we both thought it best if we just let it go and never mentioned it again.”
Gloria found her courage and said, “We never wanted to hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable, Elliott. That’s the only reason we never told you.”
My face was as somber as Buster Keaton’s for a few seconds before I broke into a sheepish grin. “Then you’re not mad at me?” I said.
“Mad at you?” Gloria said. “For what?”
“Didn’t you read that part of the book?” I said. “During the interview with Henry I was the one who let it slip out that you two had been involved. I would think it would be either of you or both of you who would be mad at me for letting the cat out of the bag that I’d known about you two for quite some time. I made a conscious effort not to let you both know that I’d found out. I didn’t want it to change anything between us. I didn’t want to split the three of us up, which I’m sure one of you would have suggested sooner or later. And you know what, Gloria? There were many times when I wanted to thank you for breaking it off with Dad. That probably saved his life.”
Dad and Gloria both stood there with their mouths hanging open. “You knew,” Dad said. “You’ve known all along?”
“Well,” I said, “not right off the bat. I figured it out from little clues both of you inadvertently dropped from time to time. I have to admit that I have a bit of a rough time wrapping my mind around the idea at first, but the more I thought about it, the more I had to admit that I’d rather have my dad around than cling to my foolish pride. Actually, I’m glad it’s out in the open now. We don’t have to tiptoe around it any longer. It’s in the past and it can stay there as far as I’m concerned.”
Gloria grabbed my neck and hugged me. “Oh, Elliott,” she said. “I’m so lucky to have you. I’m glad you got your memory back, too or I…” She stopped abruptly and let me go, stepping back.
“Or you what?” I said.
“Nothing,” Gloria said, hoping I’d drop the subject.
“No,” I said, “you started to say something. Finish your thought. What about my memory? Are you referring to my kidnapping and being dumped in the desert?”
Elliott,” Dad said, stepping forward.
I held up one palm to Dad. “Hold on, Dad,” I said. “Gloria has something she wants to tell me.”
Gloria took a deep breath and let it out, straightening her posture. “All right,” she said, “since you asked. I’ve known about your stay with Jane in the desert. I’ve known about it since shortly after you got back.”
“What about my stay with Jane?” I said. “The woman saved my life.”
“I’m not talking
about that,” Gloria said. “I’ll always be grateful to her for that. I’m talking about her taking you into her bed while you were there.”
I must have looked guilty, but I couldn’t muster up any real guilt over the situation. “Look,” I said, “when it happened, I didn’t even know who I was, let alone that I was married and had a baby. It wasn’t until the next day, when my memory started coming back that I realized what I’d done. It wasn’t my proudest moment, I have to admit, but I’d never have done anything like that had I known who I was.”
“I realize that, too,” Gloria said. “And that’s why I never confronted you with it. Like I said, I was just grateful to her for saving your life and bringing you back home to me again. I’d say that between the two of us…” Gloria looked at Dad and revised her statement. “Between the three of us, I’d say it would be best all around it none of us mentioned anything about these two incidents ever again. Agreed?”
Dad nodded. Gloria turned to me. “Agreed?”
I nodded, too and held my arms out wide. Gloria slowly stepped into the circle I’d created with my arms. I locked one arm around her and kept the other open in an arc. I looked at Dad and gestured for him to join us. He reluctantly stepped into the arc and I closed my other arm around my two favorite people in the world. We could finally move forward with nothing to hide.
*****
Seven months to the day after Henry had dropped off the complimentary books at our office, I got a call from Century Studios. It was the head of production, Jerome Horwitz calling to invite me and Gloria and Dad to the studios for a private screening of the movie. I told him we’d be honored to join him for the screening and I asked if it would be all right if I brought Dean Hollister along with us. Horwitz agreed that that would be fine and gave us the time and date of the screening. I told him I’d talk to the others and call him back within the hour.
Dad and Gloria were excited and said any time would work for them. I called Dean Hollister at his home and got his wife, Helen. “Helen,” I said, “it’s Elliott Cooper. Is Dean at home?”
“Certainly, Elliott,” she said in her usual cheerful voice. “Hold on, I’ll get him for you.”
A moment later Dean came on the line. “Elliott,” he said. “Don’t tell me you need me for another case already. What’s it been? Seven months since out last case?”
“Don’t want to impose,” I said. “Say, listen. I got a call from Century Studios, asking if we can make it to a private screening of the movie about The Coopers.”
“That’s what it’s called?” Dean said. “That movie about The Coopers?”
“Come to think of it,” I said, “I don’t even know the title. I just assumed it would be the same as the book. Anyway, can you and Helen make it to the screening?”
“When is it?” Dean said.
“They’d like to screen it tomorrow night at seven,” I said. “Does that work for you and Helen?”
“Count us in,” Dean said. “Where did you want to meet?”
“How about we all meet at my house?” I said. “It would be great if we could all ride together. Which one of us has the biggest, roomiest car?”
I had a cargo van tricked out as spy central, so that was out. Dad and Dean both had mid-size sedans. Gloria’s car was even smaller.
“We can take Helen’s minivan,” Dean said. “It seats seven so I’m sure the five of us would fit comfortably. I’ll even run it through the car wash and vacuum it out before we pick you up.”
“Perfect,” I said. “Swing by here around quarter to six. That should give us plenty of time to get there and get situated. Thanks, Dean. We’ll see you both tomorrow night.”
I got off the phone and turned to my two partners. “It’s all set,” I said. “Dean’s picking us up in Helen’s minivan at quarter to six at our house.”
“That’s perfect,” Dad said. “I can’t wait to see what they did with the film version.” He paused and then added, “It just dawned on me. After the movie is out, other trivia nuts will be mentioning us when they talk movies. How about that?”
The following night at exactly seven o’clock, the lights in the screening room went down and the screen in front of us lit up. The first thing I saw on the screen was an image, similar to the book cover, only a thousand times larger. It had the same three trench coat-clad characters lurking in the shadows. The title superimposed itself over the three figures and right there in letters four feet tall I read, The Not-So-Private Eyes. I didn’t know whether to swell with pride or shrink from possible embarrassment. I decided to withhold judgment until after the ending credits rolled by.
The opening credits finished and the scene faded in to a stock shot of Chicago streets during Prohibition. One public enemy after another appeared briefly on the screen as the voiceover told about their sordid, ugly criminal careers. When the last of the gangsters’ faces passed by the screen the scene changed to that of a Chicago schoolyard with children playing kick the can and hopscotch. The narrator said, “Chicago, 1922, a tough town to grow up in, especially for a kid of eleven. A kid named Matt Cooper.”
I elbowed Gloria and she clung to my arm. We watched the rest of the movie in silence and when the lights came up again. Horwitz got out of his chair and took his place in front of the audience, looking for our reactions. “So, what did you think?” he said.
Dad was the first to voice his opinion. “That was great, Mr. Horwitz,” he said. “You really captured the Cooper spirit. But…” Dad caught himself and stopped.
“No, Mr. Cooper,” Horwitz said, “Say whatever you like. That’s what screenings are for.”
“It’s nothing important,” Dad said. “It’s just that I noticed you took some liberties with the facts. Dad didn’t move to Chicago until after high school. And his first wife’s name wasn’t Maxine. It was Stella.”
“Mr. Cooper,” Horwitz said. “As much as we’d like to stick with just the facts for our movies, it’s sometimes necessary to embellish the story somewhat to make it flow smoother. And as for the names, no one but you and your immediate family would know that the name was wrong. The movie-going public won’t know and frankly, they won’t care. We sometimes choose character names based on public perception and in the twenties, one of the most popular names was Maxine. Have you seen any of those old biopics the studios used to put out in the forties and fifties?”
“Are you kidding?” Dad said. “I’m a movie junkie. I’ve seen ‘em all.”
“Have you seen James Cagney in Man of a Thousand Faces?” Horwitz said.
“Only a dozen times,” Dad said.
“Then being a movie junkie, as you call yourself,” Horwitz said, “you are probably aware that the producers took many liberties with that storyline. If you study Lon Chaney’s real biography and compare it to the movie, you’ll notice that some of the dates and facts don’t follow what actually happened. It’s the same with most biographies. Take The Beatles’ first film, A Hard Day’s Night. Were you aware that the actor playing Paul McCartney’s grandfather wasn’t even old enough to have been his grandfather during the filming of that movie? Wilfred Brambell was just fifty-two when they shot that movie—younger than McCartney’s father, Jim by ten years. McCartney was almost twenty-two and his real father, Jim was already sixty-two when the movie came out and McCartney’s real grandfather, Joe, would have been a ninety-eight in 1964. So you see, everyone takes artistic liberties with movies, especially biographies.”
“I never thought about it like that,” Dad said. “I guess I’ll just have to substitute my own reality for the portrayals I see on the screen and hope everyone else just enjoys it for what it is.”
“That’s the spirit,” Horwitz said. “Shall we all go into the sound stage next door for some champagne?”
“When Dad would tell me about sound stages,” I said, to Horwitz when I entered the sound stage. “I pictured a high school auditorium with an actual stage in front. I never envisioned anything this big. How much room do you hav
e in here?”
“This particular sound stage is the size of the hangar that housed the Hindenburg,” Horwitz boasted. “In here we don’t have to worry about the weather cooperating. We don’t have to be aware of outside sounds interfering with filming. The whole structure is soundproof. Sometimes we can built entire neighborhood sets inside. When you see the finished film, you can’t tell whether it’s actually a location shot or a sound stage shot. We can fill the floor with fake snow and drive a horse-drawn sleigh through it.”
“What about those houses and stores over there?” Gloria said, pointing to a street set on the other end of the sound stage. “Do the cameras follow the people into those houses and stores?”
“May I?” Dad said, gesturing to Horwitz. “I’m a bit of a movie trivia buff. Let’s see if I can answer this one.” Dad turned to Gloria. “The houses and stores you see on his set are nothing more than façades. That is, there’s nothing to them except the walls that show. On the other side of the doors there might be just two-by-fours holding up the wall. Or there might be a shallow room just inside the door to simulate the house’s interior.” I turned to Horwitz. “How am I doing?”
“Keep going, Clay,” Horwitz said. “You’re doing fine.”
“So what happens when the people go inside one of those buildings and they have lines to speak?” Gloria said.
Dad pointed to another, smaller set closer to where we were standing. “That,” he said, “is an interior set, meant to mimic the interior of the house that you just saw. The camera would cut once the actors went through the door. Then everyone would switch to the interior set and pick it up from there.”
“That’s right,” Horwitz said. “If we built the street sets as actual houses, it would be way too expensive to build and way too crowded for our cameras and crew to move around in. If the film editor and the continuity gal do their jobs correctly, you’ll never notice the transition. You’ll think you’re following the actors into their house.”
Gloria and I learned quite a bit about movie making that night. We enjoyed the champagne and Horwitz’s company and told him that we’d look forward to seeing the movie in the theaters.
The Complete Cooper Collection (All 97 Stories) Page 265