Murder! Hollywood Style

by Carol Branston

  For the working class in England things had changed for the best. Cockneys who had never left England and had gone to Butlin’s Holiday Camp every year for their summer holidays now had charter flights to Rimini and Ricioni and the Costa del Sol. Cockneys were in! The Alfies of the world united. There was even a book about how to speak cockney. BBC accents were becoming a thing of the past. The Beatles, with their Liverpudlian accents, had seen to that. Money talked, not accents anymore.

  The pill brought sex into the parlor. Marriage wasn’t important. Nice girls could and did anything they wanted. Sex was divorced from love. Was it ever a marriage anyway? England was considered by many to be the capital of the world for music, fashion, and lifestyle. Theater was at its finest. English films and actors had come into their own. Michael Caine, Albert Finny, and Terence Stamp just to name a few, made their version of cinema verite—and did it very well.

  People walking along Kings Row and Kensington High Street were works of art in motion. Modeling agencies only interested in freaks popped up. The bizarre was beautiful. Somewhere along the way, people under thirty became the majority. “Don’t trust anyone over thirty,” became their mantra. According to young people, all the world’s problems were caused by the older generation. The cliché “Generation Gap,” was born. Parents and children would never speak the same language again.

  Drugs were readily available and plentiful: hash more so than weed and lots of chemicals. Heroin was popular again with musicians, especially drummers. In London, Teddy Boys and Clobber Boots were out, Mods and Rockers were in. Carnaby Street was packed from morning till night. Everything had to be new, new, new. If a trend lasted a week, it was a long time. Constant change and no limits—that was the quest.

  Touch was an experience that had been overlooked for a while and was now rediscovered by the stoners, who could get off watching a candle melt.

  Maxie told his driver to take the scenic route to his place. Nicky felt a good vibe just driving through the city. Piccadilly Circus was full of hippies, then they drove past Nelson’s column and down the Mall to Buckingham Palace. Everything was in its place, but there was a new energy in the air.

  They arrived at Maxie’s, and Nicky had a quick tour of the house, which of course was done to perfection with an eclectic mixture of antique and modern. A white lacquer grand piano with stools around it took center stage in his music room. The walls were filled with theatrical posters and memorabilia. Sweet Maxie showed Nicky to his room. The floral fabric used for the bedspread and drapes was the same that covered the walls. It was beyond busy, but beautiful. Nicky told Maxie he felt like he was inside a very expensive chocolate box. Maxie loved that description but insisted that Nicky, “was far better than the biggest box of chocky’s in the world.” Maxie told him to have a quick rest, because he hadn’t wasted any time and had arranged a little cocktail party for him.

  When Nicky made his entrance that evening, he was in his glory. A wonderful mix of the London theater crowd had arrived. Maxie had spread the word that Nicky was “into directing.” He was surprised at how many people listened and took to heart what Maxie had to say. Nicky met a couple of very promising contacts that night, and appointments were made for the following week.

  Then it was time for pleasure. Here too, dear Maxie hadn’t let him down. Some of the prettiest boys he’d ever seen were decorating the room. One in particular, a Nordic blonde with shoulder-length hair was just his type. Nicky smiled at him; he smiled back. His name was Fletcher Ingram. They hit it off immediately and made plans to have dinner the following evening.

  Later that night, a very weary but smiling Nicky went to bed feeling the best he’d felt since…he couldn’t remember when.

  CHAPTER 46

  Palms and Percs

  Val stayed in her room as much as possible, but sometimes she had to make an appearance. She could still pull herself together for these occasions and still managed to look like a knockout. Percodan was still her pill of choice, mainly because they were easily available. Marco had to take them. He’d had a bad fall a couple of years earlier, trying to ski at Aspen. He’d hit his head, and since then he’d suffered from the most dreadful headaches. One good thing came out of it as far as Val was concerned: when they were both loaded, neither of them wanted sex. She couldn’t stand Marco touching her. When he got demanding she‘d insist they take a lude first. After that, she could usually get away with a blowjob and he’d go right to sleep. In the morning she’d tell him how wonderful he’d been the night before. This little bedroom scenario made her feel that at least she was in control of something. Occasionally she’d go out to dinner with the crowd. She rarely went to the pool. Most of Marco’s friends knew nothing about show biz, and the chicks they brought with them knew they were there to be arm pieces. Their job was to look good and shut up. One girl named Beverly was a regular. Her boyfriend Dominic was Marco’s main man. Bev was allowed to sit and talk with Val. She always wanted to make plans to go shopping, or have lunch. A girly day, as she put it. Val always agreed, but they never quite got around to doing it.

  Funnily enough, in his strange way Marco was proud of Val and loved to brag about her to his friends. That was until he’d had a few hits of coke and had washed down a Perc with some booze. After that, Val knew the format of the evening. It usually ended with him declaring that he’d saved her from Nicky the fairy. This brought howls of laughter from his crowd. Then he’d take her in his arms and kiss her, which was greeted with whistles and cheers. She put up with this humiliation, because he was nicer to her for a day or so after evenings like that.

  She had not been allowed to make a private phone call since arriving in Miami. When she did have a chance to phone her mother, Marco was always around, so she had to keep it light and say she was having a wonderful time.

  Time meant nothing to her. She knew she wanted to get away. When she thought she could make the effort, she realized she didn’t know where to go, and on top of that, she didn’t have any money. She spent her days watching quiz shows and soaps. TV was her only contact with the outside world.

  One afternoon, she was getting dressed when she heard cars pulling into the driveway. She looked out the window to see who or what Marco was dragging home for another evening of fun. She saw him helping a beautiful girl out of the car. He had supposedly been at the track all day, so seeing them laughing and acting like they knew each other really surprised her. She was putting the finishing touches to her makeup when the two of them barged into the bedroom.

  “Val, look what I found at the hundred-dollar window. This is an old friend of mine. Sharon. In fact you two met in Boston. Remember?”

  Val was trying like hell to remember. Sharon? Of course, that’s who it was. What the fuck was she doing there? Last she’d heard, Sharon was living with Karen. She turned to her smiling.

  “Sharon. How wonderful to see you. It’s been a long time. When did you get here?”

  “Today, and I went straight to the track. A friend of mine had a horse running, and that’s when Marco found me at the hundred-dollar window. I was collecting my winnings.”

  “And you know how I love a winner.”

  Marco said this, making sure Val knew he considered her a loser. Val didn’t know what to say, so she let it pass. There was a long night ahead and she didn’t want to make any waves so soon. Somehow she knew what she was in for.

  “Give Sharon a suit; we need some pool time. I kinda remember that’s where we met—poolside. I’ll go mix the drinks, and baby you know I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

  As soon as he left, Sharon checked to make sure he was on his way downstairs, then rushed to Val and took her in her arms. “Oh Val, you don’t know how happy I am to see you. We’ve been so worried.”

  “We? Worried? About me?”

  “Yes, you silly. Karen thought it was about time someone came here to check on you.”

  “Karen. Of course. I should have known. How is Karen?”

  “S
he sends her love and wants you to know she’d be here herself if it had been cool.”

  Val didn’t trust anyone at this point and didn’t know this broad from Adam. For all she knew Marco could be setting her up—testing her.

  “Well. Now you can report back to headquarters that I’m just fine and dandy and having a marvy time.”

  “Listen, Val, seriously. Karen speaks to your mother at least once a week, and although she always tries to sound like everything’s okay she’s starting to crack. Last week Karen said she finally broke down and threatened to come here herself. We didn’t know what the scene was down here and thought it better if I came here first. What’s the story?”

  “There’s no story. I’m sorry to disappoint you and make your trip futile, but as they say, what you see is what you get.”

  “Are you staying here because you want to?”

  This sounded like a Marco question to Val. She answered defiantly.

  “Of course I am!”

  “You’re messing with a very tough crowd. You must know that.”

  Val shrugged her shoulders. Sharon tried another tactic.

  “What about your career then?”

  “What career? I don’t see any agents knocking down my door.”

  “Well of course, not here. You have to be in New York or L.A.”

  “I really couldn’t face New York. I’d still be the laughing stock of so many people there. I just know it.”

  “Don’t be foolish, Val. People forget. You know how it is in a big city. Life goes on, and that was last year’s news.”

  Now Val was angry.

  “Maybe I can’t stand being last year’s news. Did that ever occur to you?”

  Sharon knew their conversation was going nowhere.

  “Listen, we’ll finish this later. I’d better get down to the pool. We don’t want Marco to think we had a lot to talk about.”

  “Just one more thing, Sharon. When did you meet him?”

  “In L.A. when he came out for the Première. We had a thing for a few days. Nothing. You know what I mean.”

  “And haven’t you been with Karen ever since Boston?”

  Sharon nodded as she slipped into the bikini Val handed her. She certainly filled it out. She was so tall and when she put on platform sandals, she towered over Val. A pang of jealousy swept through her. Who did this girl think she was?

  Sharon kissed her lightly on the cheek and ran out of the room. Val stood looking at herself in the mirror. Today she knew she had to make the effort and be sociable. She put on her bikini, plopped her big straw hat on her head, put on the biggest sunglasses she could find, and made her way down to the pool. Whoever was responsible for Sharon being there deserved a very big thank you. She was going to get back at Marco but good. As far as Val was concerned, Sharon showing up was just what the doctor had ordered.

  CHAPTER 47

  They Come and Go

  Val stood unseen at the sliding window that led to the pool. She watched Sharon make her entrance. Marco was floating on his newest toy, a float that held four people. Usually he had a couple of broads on it with him. That afternoon, he just had an ice bucket, champagne, and a couple of glasses. The rest of his entourage were lazing on the chaises, or sitting at the bar. Most of the regulars were there. Just hanging out, laughing when they were supposed to, and looking the other way when they were supposed to. They were Marco’s dudes.

  No one messed with Marco’s dudes. They knew they were feared. If they had a problem, a little rough stuff here and a reminder there usually smoothed things out. Life was good to them. Marco had worked out a network of boats with souped-up engines that were used to transport drugs off of ships from South America. They hid their cargo in the Everglades. So far, it had been clean sailing. The money was fantastic. The broads were babes. Most of their time at the mansion was good. So what could be better?

  Marco’s face lit up when he saw Sharon sashaying out of the house. That broad was really stacked, even better than he remembered. He steered the raft over to the edge of the pool.

  “All aboard, baby. The champagne is cold and I’m getting hot!”

  “That sorta says it all, doesn’t it?”

  Sharon stepped onto the raft, and settled back next to him. He popped the champagne and toasted to his best win at the track in a long time!

  Val appeared and walked slowly toward the pool. Bev ran over to her. Her boyfriend Dominic had recently told her to be more friendly to Val, admitting he felt sorry for her because she always seemed so lonely. So Bev pulled her over to sit with her at the bar. She carried on nonstop about all the clothes Val had given her the week before and how much she loved them. Val didn’t hear much of what she said, but liked having her company. She told Kent to make her a tequila sunrise and sat sipping her drink, watching everything from behind her dark glasses. It didn’t take long for the show to start.

  First she heard Marco toast the “fairy fucker” and raise his glass at her. His goons all laughed obediently. This egged him on and his barrage of insults was nonstop. Things got quiet for a minute. Marco was kissing Sharon. Suddenly it was Val’s turn. She got up, took her glass with her, and stood at the edge of the pool watching the two of them make out.

  “Having fun, darling?”

  Her voice was loud enough to be heard above the music. Marco looked up in surprise.

  “Well look at this folks, she can still walk and talk. Such talent. In case you don’t know her, let me introduce you. She’s the toast of Broadway who hasn’t had a job in months. Miss show biz, who’s a no show!”

  He went back to making out.

  “Don’t worry, Sharon knows me all right!”

  Val was still using her stage voice, which could easily have been heard in the back row of Radio City Music Hall.

  “I think you should use Sharon’s title when introducing her. Didn’t she tell you? She’s Miss Holland.”

  Marco looked up smiling.

  “So what’s the big deal? Nothing wrong with winning a beauty contest.”

  “Well darling, that’s not quite the reason for her title. Let me come to the point.”

  She paused. When she knew she had everyone’s attention, she continued. “Have you ever heard of the little mermaid who put her finger in the dyke and stopped the flood in Holland? Well, you have been putting more than a finger in this dyke! You could say a very busy dyke. In fact she’s Karen van Dougall’s main squeeze.”

  Val was on a roll and loving it.

  “So go ahead, darling. Ask her. Or let me. Sharon who’s better in bed, Marco or Karen?”

  Marco sat up and looked down at Sharon. She tried to smile and was just about to say something when he slapped her face a couple of times. Really hard. She fell off the raft and it turned over. She sank to the bottom. She managed to come up for air. Marco grabbed her and punched her in the jaw. She started to bleed and sank back to the bottom. This time she didn’t come up. Val tried to laugh, but the violent turn of events shocked her.

  Marco climbed out of the pool and told Dominic to get the broad and bring her in the house. As he walked passed Val he slapped her face, then continued on into the house without a word. She stood there in helpless silence as she watched poor Sharon in Dominic’s arms; she looked like a limp rag doll being carried into the house.

  Marco was waiting for her. Sharon could hardly stand and Marco took her and held her up by the shoulders. Dominic left the room.

  “Who sent you?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Was that shit true?”

  Again, she didn’t answer. He lost it and shook her violently. Her head jerked back and forth. It looked like it wasn’t connected to her body. He slapped her face again and again, hard. He was frustrated. She still wouldn’t speak. He started to shake her again, violently. Her eyes rolled back in her head. Then he heard a crack, and her head just hung down. She didn’t move. She was dead. He had broken her neck. He let her fall to the floor in a heap, walked out of t
he room, and found Dominic in the hall.

  “Get Sammy take her out on the boat, and go deep sea fishing for the night.”

  “Sure, boss.”

  Dominic knew the routine. He couldn’t help thinking it was too bad she was already dead. He and Sammy could have had a good time before using her for bait. Marco walked out to the pool.

  “Looks like this party’s over. Our special guest had to leave. Who’s hungry? Let’s go eat.”

  No questions were ever asked about Sharon. Marco was nicer to Val than he’d ever been. In his mind, she had done the right thing by exposing what could have been a very embarrassing situation for him. He even let Val have more freedom. She was allowed to go shopping with Bev.

  A few weeks later, they were at Saks trying on clothes when Val had to go to the ladies’ room. Usually she wasn’t even allowed to go to the bathroom on her own, but Bev was busy trying on dresses. Val saw a pay phone on the wall in the ladies room, and on the spur of the moment, she called Karen collect. Much to her surprise Karen answered, and when she heard who was calling she accepted the charges immediately.

  “Oh, Karen I’m so glad you answered. I only have a minute to talk. I have to get away from here.”

  “Whoa. Slow down. Take it easy. Where are you?”

  “Florida still. I’m a prisoner. I have to get out. I will try to call you in a few days. Don’t try to call me. Karen, it’s dangerous.”

  “Okay, okay. Where’s Sharon? Did you see her?”

  “I only saw her once. I thought she’d gone back to New York.”

  “Listen, Val. I’ll get you a ticket. You just get out of there as soon as you can. I’ll wait for your call.”

  “Karen, I love you. Thanks.”

  Val went back to the fitting room and when they were paying for their purchases, the saleslady told them they were having a special sale the following week and they should be sure to come back for that. Val said they wouldn’t miss it for the world. At last, she had a plan, at last she finally had something to look forward to.