The Black Stiletto: Stars & Stripes

by Raymond Benson

  When I got to 1st Street, something hit me on the side of the head. I have no idea what it was. It hurt and stunned me for a few seconds, but I believe my leather hood protected me from the worst of the blow. I stopped to get my bearings in a doorway on the east side of 2nd Avenue. It wasn’t far now. But how the heck was I going to climb the stupid telephone pole, traipse across the roofs, and climb in my window? There was no way I could do that.

  So I did the only thing possible. When I got to the Second Avenue Gym, I buzzed for Freddie. I banged on the front door. I shouted for him. I pushed the buzzer button again. I banged again. Over and over. Finally, I saw the lights go on inside. Freddie, my savior, appeared, with a look of shock on his face. He opened the door and I practically fell inside, panting and, it turned out, bleeding from a small cut on my head.

  Dear diary, Freddie was so mad. Instead of saying, “Judy, how are you?” he yelled at me. “What the hell are you doing? You stupid, stupid girl!”

  He helped me up and I started crying. I hadn’t realized how scared I was out in the storm until that moment. I guess he brought the reality of my foolishness home. I told him I was sorry, that I’d made a mistake, but he kept berating me.

  “You could have been killed! And what are you doing coming in the front door in your goddamned costume? You could’ve been seen!”

  “Freddie, there’s no one on the street. No one saw me.”

  “You crazy girl, I was worried about you!” He helped me pull off my mask and walked me upstairs. “I knocked on your door to say, ‘look out the window, can you believe this?’ and you were gone! I was afraid you’d get blown away to kingdom come!”

  “Or Oz,” I tried to joke.

  “It’s not funny! Don’t you ever, ever do that again!”

  I apologized again as he sat me down and doctored the wound on my head. It wasn’t much, but there was a little hole in my hood. I’ll have to sew it up.

  Finally, Freddie gave me a hug and said he was glad I was all right. I kissed his cheek and we made up, and then I went to my room to peel off my wet outfit and get into a warm bed.

  Hurricane Donna is still raging as I write this, but I assume we’ll all still be here tomorrow. I hope.

  Good night.

  28

  Judy’s Diary

  1960

  SEPTEMBER 13, 1960

  Hurricane Donna did a lot of damage, especially in Long Island. In the city it wasn’t as bad as we thought it would be. Everything was wet for a day, there were some broken windows, and a lot of garbage was in the streets. Electric power was out for a while and just came on today. Freddie and I had to use candles in the apartment last night, and most businesses were closed yesterday and today. We kept the gym open, but hardly anyone showed up. Clark came for his training session, so that kept me busy for a couple of hours. Because work was so light, Freddie gave me the rest of the day off. I think he felt bad about yelling at me the other night.

  I took a walk outside to survey the destruction. Of course, I found myself walking to Chinatown, but as Judy Cooper I didn’t have anything to fear. Shops and restaurants were starting to open. Naturally, I passed through Bayard Street. The black Packard was parked in the same block, although the driver would have to move it sometime that day for street cleaning. I loitered in some of the shops around there on the chance that I might see one of the guys get in the car. There was a restaurant open across the street, so I went in, sat at a table by the window, and had hot and sour soup, an egg roll, and beef with broccoli. No one ever showed up to move the car. After I ate, I gave up and went home.

  Why the heck do I care? Why am I so suspicious? I know why— it’s because the reason Michael stopped seeing me had something to do with his conversation with the driver that day.

  Oh well. I better get some rest for the big day tomorrow. Judy Cooper, Kennedy Girl, will make her debut!

  SEPTEMBER 14, 1960

  Oh, my gosh, dear diary, what a day!

  I met John F. Kennedy!!

  I swear, if he wasn’t married, I’d be all over him. He is so handsome and charming. He even spoke to me! I was so flustered I probably sounded like an idiot, but for a few minutes I was in heaven.

  The day started at HQ. All the Kennedy Girls arrived at 9:00 to put on the costumes. They’re cute sleeveless cotton dresses with fitted waists and A-line skirts that just cover the knee. They have a red-and-white striped ticking, so with the navy cummerbunds inscribed with “Kennedy” in white letters, we look like walking American flags. We also got white “straw” hats made out of Styrofoam. They also have navy bands. We supplied our own white gloves, of course, but the campaign gave us fake white pearl necklaces that were surprisingly pretty. Shoes were totally up to us as long as they were high heels. Once we were all dressed, Mr. Patton and Mr. Dudley took photographs. I have to admit that Louise looked stunning. Even though she’s a little short on smarts, she could win a beauty pageant hands down. Betty looked great, and she told me I did, too. When I gazed in the mirror, I thought, “Hmm. Not bad at all,” if I do say so myself.

  Kennedy was set to arrive at LaGuardia Airport between 12 and 1:00. He was coming in from St. Louis. We were sent to meet him at the Commodore Hotel at Lexington and 42nd Street. The Women’s Division of the Democratic State Committee was sponsoring a luncheon there. People had to pay a lot of money for tickets, and there were around 4,000 attendees, mostly women. The Kennedy Girls got to attend for free.

  The anticipation in the banquet room as we waited for Kennedy was excruciating. My heart was beating like a sparrow’s. I kept whispering to Betty, “When’s he going to be here? When’s he going to be here?” She told me I sounded like a lovesick schoolgirl, ha ha.

  Finally, he arrived, and oh, my gosh, it was like seeing a movie star in person. He was all smiles and looked wonderful in a sporty fall suit. Everyone stood, applauded, and cheered when he entered. He sat at a table with the head of the committee and other people on his campaign team. The Kennedy Girls had their own table nearby. I was so close to him I could’ve thrown a roll at him! After the senator ate, Mr. Dudley gave us the signal, and the Girls stood and formed a line behind the podium. Someone introduced Kennedy, he stood, and approached the podium, but first he gave us a big smile, and said, “Hi, girls!” Everyone applauded and laughed. Then we sat while he gave a brief speech.

  I have to say I felt really good about myself at that moment.

  Around 2:45, Mr. Dudley and Mrs. Bernstein hustled us into a van with just enough seats for them and the eight girls. HQ had rented it for the day. We were let out at City Center on W. 55th Street for a senior citizens’ rally on medical care. The street was packed with old people! Mr. Dudley said there were at least 4000 of them, all carrying “Kennedy/Johnson” signs and cheering. Once again, the eight Girls stood in a line behind Kennedy when he addressed the crowd. He gave us that trademark smile of his and introduced us as his Kennedy Girls and said, “Aren’t they wonderful?” We waved and blew kisses at the crowd.

  We were done there around 4:15 p.m. After his talk, they rushed the senator into a limousine and he was off to the Waldorf-Astoria for a private fund-raising reception in the Jansen Suite, thrown by Bill Brandt, the Democratic state campaign chairman.

  As we were about to leave City Center, some sweet old guy at the rally asked me out to dinner. A little fellow next to him said, “Don’t pay attention to Mort, come have a drink with me!” Then a couple of other seniors chimed in. They were all flirting with the Girls. It was pretty funny. I said, “Maybe next time, Mort,” and then we piled into the van.

  It took a while to get to the Waldorf because there was a big crowd of people outside hoping to see the senator. We didn’t get to go to the reception. It was for VIPs only, so we were told to wait in the Waldorf lobby. Mitch, Alice, Chip, Karen, and a few other workers showed up because there was another big rally scheduled at 5:00, sponsored by Citizens for Kennedy. All the volunteers in the New York campaign office were helping put it on.


  Just before the rally, though, Kennedy came down to the lobby from the reception and stepped outside to Park Avenue—and by then there were thousands of people on the street! It was incredible. In just thirty minutes the number had increased tenfold. The Girls did an impromptu appearance, too. Mr. Dudley quickly rounded us up and herded us out the doors to stand behind the senator as he waved to the crowd.

  Then it was time to go to the Grand Ballroom, where the rally was being held. Chip said there were 5,000 people packed inside. This time the Girls were on stage with Choo Choo and a piano behind the podium. We were going to sing “High Hopes” when the senator was finished with yet another speech.

  Well, dear diary, I was listening to his talk and looking out into the audience—when I nearly jumped out of my skin. I saw Michael in the crowd on the floor. At least I thought I did. It sure looked like him. He was standing about a third of the way back from the stage. The strange thing was that he wasn’t focused on Kennedy the way everyone else was. Instead, he was gazing up at the boxes on the sides of the ballroom. Michael seemed more interested in the room itself than in Kennedy’s speech.

  Before I knew it, the senator was done and Choo Choo started playing the song’s intro. We all started to sing and the crowd joined in. I forgot about Michael and just enjoyed myself as we did our number. When we hit the end, the crowd went wild. We felt like the Rockettes! As everyone applauded and cheered, I focused on the crowd where Michael had been, but he was gone. I scanned the room and thought I’d lost him, but then I spotted him near the exits on the side. He wasn’t applauding or cheering. He just stood there with that expressionless face of his, staring intently at Kennedy. Of course, I was in no position to get off the stage and go talk to him, not that I wanted to. But what was he doing there? How did he get an invitation?

  My puzzlement was interrupted when Kennedy turned to us and blew kisses again, so I averted my eyes from Michael as the Girls smiled, waved, and blew kisses back at the senator. When I got the chance to look again, Michael was gone.

  Well, I think it was him. Now I’m not so sure, but at the time I really thought so. It shook me up a little. Betty asked me if I was all right, and I told her I saw someone I knew. She could tell I wasn’t happy about it, so she asked, “An old boyfriend who didn’t appreciate how terrific you are?”

  “Something like that,” I answered.

  “I’ve had a few of those, too.”

  At 6:00 p.m. the Girls moved to the beautiful Jade Room for a private fund-raising dinner given by Adlai Stevenson. About 150 to 175 people attended, all supposedly with very deep pockets. We were very lucky to be invited, ‘cause none of the other campaign workers got to go. Our job was to greet people as they came in. I thought it was very nice of Stevenson to host a dinner for Kennedy, since they were rivals earlier in the year. Actually, Kennedy and the Girls didn’t eat, because there was another dinner planned at 8:00 p.m. that we were going to.

  Then we got a big surprise. After former Senator Herbert Lehman and the governor of Connecticut, Abraham Ribicoff, entered the room, none other than Eleanor Roosevelt came in. She looked lovely. Gosh, I think she’s at least 75 years old. I shook her hand and she said, “How do you do?” After her came Harry Truman! Oh, my gosh! I didn’t know he was going to be there. I got to shake his hand and say hello, too. He was much smaller than I expected, but he wore those unmistakable Truman eyeglasses. He must be in his 70s, too.

  And then and then and then—I met Kennedy! He came through the line and spoke to each and every Girl and asked our names. When he got to me he held out his hand and said in that adorable Boston accent, “Hello there, and what’s your name?” I took his hand and shook it, but I was in shock and couldn’t speak! Betty discreetly nudged me, and then I managed to answer, “Judy Cooper, sir. I’m so pleased to meet you.”

  “And I’m very pleased to meet you, too.” And then he asked, “Where are you from, Judy?”

  That threw me again and for a moment I just stared into his gorgeous blue eyes. He blinked and that brought me back down to earth. “Texas,” I said.

  He nodded and said, “I thought I recognized the accent! I’ve been there several times. I enjoy visiting Dallas.” Then he moved on to the next girl. Lord, my heart was beating like crazy. I felt as if I’d touched royalty. I never wanted to wash my hand again.

  I was smitten, right then and there.

  The rest of the dinner was a blur. Before I knew it, we were ushered outside to the van again to go back to the Commodore Hotel for the 8:00 dinner. It was sponsored by the Liberal Party, and the purpose was for Kennedy to accept their nomination for president. George Meany, the president of the American Federation of Labor and the Congress of Industrial Organizations, was the bigwig there. By the time we sat at the table, I was starving. I think I’d gone through my supply of adrenaline during the day and felt a little weak. Or perhaps it was just Kennedy’s touch that did it, ha ha.

  The senator delivered a wonderful speech. It was all about being a liberal. I don’t remember his exact words, but he put it very succinctly. He said a liberal is someone who looks ahead and welcomes new ideas, and, most importantly, cares about the welfare of the people. Kennedy got a rousing ovation when he said, “If that is what they mean by a liberal, then I’m proud to say I’m a liberal.”

  After all the speeches and hoopla, the Girls lined up again to say goodbye to the senator. Kennedy was off to New Jersey in the morning, so we wouldn’t see him again for a while. When he got to me, I swear he gave me a more appreciative look than the other girls got. And he remembered my name!

  “I hope I’ll see you again, Miss Cooper.”

  I don’t know what I said, but it was something that made no sense, like, “Thank you me too I do too.” Geez! I felt like a dunce. But after he’d gone, Betty said to me, “Better watch out, Judy, I hear he likes the ladies.”

  I waved her off and said, “Go on, he’s married.”

  But, hey, if he likes me, then I guess he’s got good taste!

  29

  Maggie

  THE PRESENT

  Martin and his ex-wife, Carol, flew to New York on the Friday after Thanksgiving, two days ago, to deal with their daughter’s situation. I spoke to Martin last night and found out Gina was arrested for stalking, or harassing, a man and he had filed a complaint against her. I’m not clear on the details, but Martin and Carol had to hire a lawyer. I know Gina had some problems recently with an assault and attempted rape. Martin said she’s obsessed with finding the man who did it. Apparently, the man she was harassing was one of the suspects. Poor Martin. He has a lot on his plate right now with his mother in the hospital. I haven’t met Gina yet, but it sounds like she could use some better psychological counseling than she’s getting. Martin tells me she’s a good kid and never got in trouble before. Considering she was a fine student in high school and is attending Juilliard, that must be true. Nevertheless, it sounds like she has some issues.

  Bill Ryan called me yesterday with news that continues to puzzle me. Apparently, Judy and Martin moved to Illinois from Odessa, Texas. There are records of a Judy Talbot in that town for several months in late 1962. Bill’s trying to work in reverse from that, tracing their movements all the way back to Los Angeles. We have to assume Martin’s telling the truth that he was born in L.A., and that they must have traveled from California to Texas in 1962. I wonder why she would pick up and move with an infant in arms?

  Bill says a lot of Judy or Judith Talbots lived in the Los Angeles area during that time. It would be extremely difficult for him to find out if any of them was her. Again he reiterated how he would have to spend time there and that would get expensive.

  More interesting was Bill’s discovery that no soldier named Richard Talbot died in the Vietnam War prior to 1962. Granted, the records are not 100 percent reliable, and we don’t know if Richard Talbot was in the army, navy, air force, or was a Marine. American involvement in that war in the early part of the decade was
minimal. Officially, our troops were only “military advisors” then, but by 1963 we had around sixteen thousand men stationed in South Vietnam. Less than a hundred had been killed. Were the odds such that Richard was one of them?

  I decided to snoop around in Martin’s apartment. That’s a terrible thing to do, I know, but I need answers. I justified my actions by telling myself I indeed want the relationship with Martin to work out. Yes, I’m falling in love with him, and I know he feels the same way about me. He’d given me a key to his place. “I trust you,” he’d said with a wink. I’m sure he was joking that I would never steal anything. I don’t think he meant that I was free to go through his closets and chests of drawers, so I felt guilty doing it.

  Well, tough. My peace of mind was more important.

  His house in Buffalo Grove is in a quiet neighborhood. It’s actually one-half of a duplex, which is perfect for a single man living alone. I started with the front closet—nothing but coats and cloth-ing—and then went through drawers in the kitchen. Nothing of interest there. The Kennedy/Johnson 1960 campaign button was still on the coffee table. I wonder if it’s worth something as an antique?

  The house has two bedrooms, one where he sleeps (and me, too, when I’m there), and another that serves as his office of sorts. I chose the latter to investigate next. The desk drawers revealed nothing but personal records dealing with Martin’s house, car, health insurance, and Gina’s school. Two file cabinets contained his work-related stuff—tax returns and other material from his job as an accountant.

  But as I went through the bottom drawer of one cabinet, I noticed some give behind the hanging manila folders. At first I thought the entire drawer was full, but it wasn’t. Some object took up the back half of the space. I pulled out the folders so I could get to it and found a metal strongbox.