“Not for an hour or so.”
Bebe crinkled her nose. “Let’s not worry about him. When is Reuben going to join us?”
Daniel pulled out his pocket watch. “I have to wake him in half an hour. He’s…he’s a little upset.”
“Poor Reuben. He doesn’t enjoy much of anything. He doesn’t know how to relax and have fun. Was he relaxed with Mickey in France?”
“I thought so,” Daniel said carefully. Whatever Bebe was leading up to, it was about to come to a head. While he waited for her to make her point, he looked around the hotel room. It was a duplicate of Dickie’s, but smaller. A small sofa, covered in the same material as the drapes and bedspread, sat at the far end of the room next to a small table and two chairs. The carpet was beige and soft. No one lived here. People like Bebe just visited for a day or two and then were gone, leaving behind wet towels and spilled powder. A temporary place. The room irritated him because he’d had enough of temporary places.
An hour later Bebe yawned elaborately. “Why don’t you go wake Reuben and go back to the party. I think I’m going to treat myself to a long hot bath and a nap. Do me a favor, Daniel, keep your eye on Eli. For me. Someday I’ll tell you Eli’s sad story, and then you won’t think so badly of him.” She kissed him on the cheek and shooed him out the door.
Daniel stared at the closed door with a puzzled look on his face. What was that all about, he wondered.
He decided to let Reuben sleep. Bebe was going to take a nap, and there would be nothing for Reuben to do but worry. Besides, he knew his friend needed the sleep.
Daniel himself tried to sleep, but the sounds of Dickie’s party prevented it. At last he decided to go back and see if Eli was around. Bebe had said to keep an eye on him; that much he could do.
If anything, the party was louder now than when he’d left. He noticed that half the liquor Eli had brought was gone. The food on the heavy silver trays was dry and unappetizing. Fresh-squeezed orange juice was everywhere, in jars, bottles, and pitchers.
Finally Daniel spotted Eli in a corner with Mavis Parks and another woman. He searched for a chair that would afford him somewhat of a clear view and settled himself comfortably. After all, he’d promised Bebe.
It was early evening when Reuben stalked into the party, mad as a wet hornet. “I thought I told you to wake me!”
“I didn’t see any point. You needed the rest. Bebe took a room and she’s sleeping. I have my eye on Eli. It’s all under control, Reuben.”
Reuben looked shocked. “Bebe took a room?”
“To fix her makeup and tinkle.” He winced at the odd look on Reuben’s face. “Women tinkle, men piss. It’s sort of like men sweat and women swoon.”
“Where do you get that kind of information? I’m real curious.” Reuben stopped talking just long enough to point beyond a half-open door. “Your sleeping friend is standing in the next room,” he said, pointing to the sitting room off Dickie’s bedroom.
“I guess she woke up. It was a while ago.”
Reuben took a good look at Daniel’s eyes. “And just how many drinks have you had, Daniel?” he asked suspiciously.
“One, two, maybe three. Is it important for you to know exactly?”
“I didn’t bring you here to drink.”
“What the hell am I supposed to do? Sit here and twiddle my fingers?”
“We have to keep our eye on Bebe. She’s not asleep in her room, she’s over there, and she looks like she’s getting ready to do something….”
“What?”
“How the hell should I know?”
Daniel looked in the general direction of Reuben’s worried stare. “By the way, did you know the bathtub is filled with orange blossoms? Not the flowers.” He grinned. “A whole bathtub full of orange blossoms. Drinks. You just scoop it out. That’s what I did.”
“Everybody, listen! Give me your attention!” Bebe Rosen shouted. She was drunk, Reuben thought disgustedly. If there was one thing in life he detested, it was a drunk woman. He tried to look away, but his eyes kept going back to Bebe, waiting to hear what she had to say.
“How much money will you put up to see me take a bath in the orange blossoms?” Bebe shouted from her perch on the back of the sofa.
“Five hundred!” Eli screamed.
“Two thousand!” Dickie called drunkenly.
“We have two thousand five hundred. Do I hear more?” Bebe yelled. A crowd began to gather around her.
As the bids increased, Reuben could feel his back stiffen. Why should he care what Bebe did? He wasn’t her goddamn keeper. Her actions were disgusting him.
“Somebody come up with another five hundred to make it an even ten thousand and I’ll do it!” Bebe screamed over the cheering crowd. She kicked off one shoe and then the other.
“Ten thousand!” Dickie shouted.
“Done!” Bebe rolled down one stocking and then the other, twirling them in the air for a second before she tossed them into the leering crowd. Then she was off the sofa, dancing away from Dickie’s lecherous hands. She collided with Reuben, their eyes meeting, hers wicked, his angry and sullen. “You didn’t bid,” she whispered.
Pandemonium reigned in the next few seconds as Bebe stripped down to the buff and headed for the bathroom. The crowd followed, tossing clothes in every direction. Sounds of splashing and raucous laughter bounced off the tiled bathroom walls.
“I think this is an orgy, Reuben,” Daniel’s voice cracked. He stopped smiling when he caught the look on Reuben’s face.
“Have you got any idea where Eli is?”
Daniel pointed. “He went into that room over there with Dickie and Mavis.”
A moment later Reuben spotted Eli standing in the doorway of the room he’d entered, a strange look on his face. Before he turned and disappeared back into the room, Reuben noticed that the front of his suit was covered in vomit. He glanced at Daniel, who grimaced and nodded to show that he, too, had seen Eli’s condition. Reuben was halfway to the door when Daniel caught up to him.
Reuben spoke first. “This is all we need. Did anyone else see him like that?”
Both men looked carefully about the room. No one seemed sober enough to have registered Eli’s disheveled appearance.
“I guess we’d better go in and clean up the mess,” Daniel said, disgust and irritation written all over his face.
Reuben opened the door. Inside, Dickie was naked and sound asleep on the bed, and Eli stood hunched over by the open window, vomiting again. Reuben shook his head in contempt.
“Stay here and watch the door,” he said as he moved toward Eli.
The moment Eli realized he wasn’t alone, he did something that seemed strange to Reuben—he stood bolt upright, stretching out his arms, trying to cover the opening of the window.
“What the hell are you trying to hide?” Reuben demanded, striding over to the window to investigate.
He had seen enough death in Europe to know there was nothing he could do for the woman lying at the bottom of the refuse-strewn hotel alley. Her head was crushed, surrounded by a pool of blood, her body twisted in a heap of ancient garbage. “Jesus Christ, what have you done?”
Daniel was at Reuben’s side in a second. The sight below made him gag. “It’s Mavis!”
Reuben ran to the door Daniel had been guarding. “Get him out of here, Daniel. Drag him, slug him, I don’t give a damn, just get him down to the car. When you get to the lobby, make him stand upright. I’ll get Bebe.”
Reuben plowed through the crowd, trying to keep his face relaxed. “Bebe? Bebe honey, where are you,” he called, revolted at having to use the endearing term.
“Here, darling,” Bebe called drunkenly.
Reuben’s eyes searched the crowd of revelers. Bebe was sitting on the commode, stark naked, orange juice dripping from her breasts, her legs crossed, and a cigarette in her hand. Her eyes seemed fuzzy, out of focus. Reuben reached for a bath towel and threw it at her. She dropped her cigarette and threw the towe
l back at him. He yanked her from the commode, scooped her up screaming and yelling, and carried her from the room, but not before he threw the towel over her flailing body.
“Shut that mouth of yours before I slap you. Your brother or Dickie…pushed…or witnessed a woman fall to her death in the alley behind this hotel. She’s dead. Do you hear what I’m saying? Dickie is sound asleep and Daniel is taking Eli to the car. My money is on your brother. Do you understand what I just told you?”
Maybe it was Reuben’s viselike hold on her, or his words. Bebe closed her mouth and passed out in his arms. Reuben carried her down the back steps of the Sherwood and out to the car, where he dumped her unceremoniously in the backseat beside her brother.
Reuben’s thoughts raced. The partiers would continue their revelry and probably not bother with Dickie’s room, thinking he was with a woman. The alleyway looked like it hadn’t seen a human being for months. It was late now, the liquor was almost gone. If he could get back to L.A. before the police were called, he would have a fairly good alibi, and so would Sol’s children. He was certain nothing could have been done for the woman, so calling the police would serve no purpose. Eli, Dickie, and a dead woman. He could add; the problem was in subtracting. Take away Eli and that left Dickie. Take away Dickie and that left Eli. Which one was guilty? Dickie looked too done in. You couldn’t just kill someone and then fall asleep like a baby. Or could you? Aiding and abetting…
Reuben took a good long look at Eli, who was obviously in shock, huddled in the backseat next to Bebe. As the car roared to life, he turned to Daniel. “He didn’t do it, he doesn’t have the guts,” he said.
Daniel only nodded. He knew Reuben was lying.
It was three-thirty in the morning when Reuben drove the Pierce Arrow up the long, winding road in Benedict Canyon to the Rosen mansion. At the entrance, be braked, leapt over the side of the car, and raced up the steps, mission white in the moonlight. He rang the doorbell insistently. He wanted to bang at the door with his fists, but he kept his head. When the overhead lights went on, he returned to the car. He pulled Bebe from the car and draped the towel over her, then he slung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Eli was slumped on the other side of the backseat. “You’ll have to carry that toad,” he said to Daniel.
“What the bloody hell…?” Sol Rosen boomed in the dark night.
Reuben hushed him hurriedly. “Your children, Mr. Rosen,” he announced. He handed over his naked charge, while Daniel dumped Eli on the foyer floor. Sol’s eyes were wild with fear as he stared first at his children and then at Reuben and Daniel.
“What have you done with them? What’s the meaning of this!” he bellowed. “I want some answers, and I want them now!”
“Keep your voice down…. After I’ve told you, you’ll be glad you did. The servants…Help me get these two in bed first.”
Fifteen minutes later, Sol spluttered, “I don’t believe this horseshit you’re feeding me. How in the hell did these two get to San Francisco?”
“I drove them because they were determined to go and they were too drunk to drive. I didn’t think you’d want them killed on the road in all that fog. The papers will bear out my story by morning. I drove like a maniac to get back here. The police will want to talk to everyone who was at that party. If we say we got back here at midnight, I think we’ll be safe.”
“Did my boy do what you said?” Sol whispered fearfully.
Reuben stared at Sol for a long moment. “I don’t know, Mr. Rosen. Dickie was passed out cold. My personal opinion is the only thing I can share with you, and yes, it is my opinion that Eli did it. As I said, I can’t say that for certain, and it won’t hold up in a court of law. Good night, Mr. Rosen. I’ll drive your car to the studio in the morning.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Bebe woke to bright yellow sunshine. Her temples pounded and her stomach heaved. She lay still, her thoughts jumbled. She really had to do something about her bedroom, it was too girlish, too frilly. She needed something a little more sophisticated, something on the tailored side, something that said she was grown-up now. Her eyes were full of grit and still bore traces of the heavy makeup she’d worn in San Francisco. When she moved outside of the covers, she became aware of the sticky bedclothes. Frowning, she thought she remembered that one minute she was in a bathtub full of freshly squeezed orange juice and gin, and the next thing she was naked except for a towel and being carried to the car by Reuben.
Eli. Eli was with her and already in the car when Reuben carried her down the back steps of the Sherwood. Somebody was dead and Eli was going to be blamed. Not Dickie. Dickie passed out. She remembered Daniel and Reuben talking. Mavis Parks was lying dead in the courtyard. Eli had been dragged out by Daniel.
She wished she could remember more, but she’d been so drunk, splashing around in the tub full of orange blossoms, splashing and taking great gulps of the sticky drink as she was pushed under time and again. She thought it silly and stupid now. Whatever possessed her to do such an asinine thing? Reuben, of course. She’d wanted to rile him, but she hadn’t actually succeeded in doing that. What she’d done was act the fool and disgust him. She felt like crying. She never did anything right, no matter how hard she tried.
Her thoughts raced. Reuben and Daniel’s quick thinking had saved her and Eli from…what? A police investigation. The word she’d heard bandied about last evening was orgy. She’d participated in an orgy, and now her father was going to raise unholy hell. The industry was going to raise unholy hell. The public would raise unholy hell. She groaned. There was no way she was going to sweet-talk her father on this escapade. He would probably kill Eli if he thought he could get away with it. This was one time she was going to have to take it on the chin. No excuses. She’d tell her father the truth and hope for mercy. Bile rose in her throat. She flew off the bed, the top sheet stuck to her rear end and trailing behind her like a wedding train.
An hour later, dressed in her old comfortable robe, with her head wrapped in a towel, Bebe sat down on a slipper chair and stared at Eli, who was sleeping fully clothed on the chaise lounge. She must have been in a real stupor not to know Eli had spent the night in her room. He’d done it before, but this time was different. God, he was a disgusting mess.
She should wake Eli and talk to him before her father…Her head was pounding so badly she thought it would spring off her neck. She leaned back and closed her eyes, hoping to ease the sick feeling. And to think Eli was in this condition several times a week. God!
She tried to peer at the little bedside clock without moving her head. It was ten minutes of nine. Her father would be here soon. She couldn’t even begin to comprehend what his mood would be.
One bare foot stretched out to poke at Eli. “Eli, wake up. You have to get up.” He was a slug, a deadweight on her chaise. The foot poked again, this time with more force. “Eli, Daddy is going to be here in a few minutes.” He didn’t move. Bebe leaned over and put all the force she could muster into pushing her bare foot into Eli’s groin. He toppled over in an ungainly heap. “Someone’s dead, Eli. Dead. Now wake up!”
Eli shook his head, moaned, and began to crawl over to Bebe. “I didn’t do it, Bebe. I swear to God I didn’t do it!”
“Don’t worry about God right now, worry about what you’re going to tell Daddy. You better worry about what Reuben told him, too. This is one time we’re going to pay for our fun. Only it wasn’t fun at all. I made a fool of myself, and all because you wanted to go to that stupid party. If it wasn’t for Reuben and Daniel, we’d probably be dead on the coast road. Instead, we’re involved in a murder.”
“You make it sound like I killed someone,” Eli whined.
“Reuben thinks you did.”
“Bastard!” Eli spat out.
“No he isn’t. He saved our necks. I don’t want to hear another bad word about him. Do you hear me?” Bebe said wearily.
“You’re soft on him. I could see it all night. He must be soft on you, to
o, to drive us all the way to Frisco. He hates me!”
“Oh, shut up. Your voice makes my head worse. And God, do you stink!” She tried to move away from him.
“Oh, I get it,” Eli snapped. “You’re going to play the good little girl who was with her big bad brother and I made you take off your clothes to make a spectacle of yourself.”
Bebe reared up. “You bid five hundred dollars to see me take off my clothes. That’s sick, Eli. My very own brother! Daddy’s right, you are a horse’s ass.” She flopped back against the chair, her temples throbbing to the beat of her anger.
“Bebe, we have to stick together. Pop will beat the hell out of me. Please, don’t let him get at me. Bebeeee.”
Even though he was pleading in a whisper, Bebe still had to cover her ears. “You aren’t listening to me, big brother. We deserve whatever Daddy decides to do with us. I’m telling the truth. I don’t give a damn what you do. Get that through your head.”
Eli cowered against Bebe’s legs, his arms holding on to the sides of the chair as the sound of heavy footsteps drew nearer, ever nearer.
“Do you,” Sol said, bursting into the room and enunciating each word carefully, “have any idea what you two did? I don’t want to hear any of your lying excuses. It was your idea, Eli, to go to San Francisco. Bebe, you did not have to go along. Your reputation is shot now. My daughter a tramp! Your poor mother must be turning over in her grave. Your antics can bring the studio tumbling down around our ears. If it wasn’t for Tarz, your ass would be roasting in jail, Eli. It still might end up there if we can’t cover this up. You had the goddamn nerve to drive bootleg liquor all the way to Frisco. That’s going to come out somewhere down the line if Tarz can’t cover it up. Murder! A goddamn murder. Someone is dead! Do you hear me? I’m meeting with Tarz later this morning to come up with…we’ll get a story together. Both of you will remain in this house until I tell you you can leave. Do you understand me?” Sol thundered. “Eli, if you so much as step foot out the door, you will be in the gutter and I will be the one who kicks you there. I do not want my family in the headlines. Do you understand?” he thundered. When no one answered, he went on.
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