Serena broke into a ragged laugh, then instantly stifled it and drew her eyebrows together in disapproval. “Fine. I won’t kill her.”
Max turned to Edwina and pointed at the seamstress, who had already resumed sewing on the dress. “And this is Serena Norotolova. She’s very thrilled to meet you, she welcomes you to the crew, and never, ever touch her fabric scissors, unless you have an absolute death wish.”
“I’ll remember that,” Edwina said, doing her best to look obedient. “Nice to meet you,” she called out, just as Max ushered her quickly out the door.
“Well, that’s the end of the tour,” Max pronounced, dusting his hands together as if he was getting rid of an unwanted bother.
“Her name’s Serena?” Edwina asked, sounding skeptical. “Is she always like that?” When Max nodded, she added, “Who in their right mind would name her something so… tranquil?”
Max scoffed. “How do I know? Someone who’s never heard her speak, I guess.”
Chapter 5
As Max turned to walk away and waved a nonchalant goodbye over his shoulder, a high, shrill scream suddenly echoed through the entire building. Its wild screech of anger had a note of fury that set Edwina’s teeth on edge and the hair stand up on the back of her neck.
“Bunny! Bunny, where the hell are you now?” the angry voice bellowed, then there was a loud slamming of a wooden door.
Max stopped and looked back at Edwina, making a face of absolute disgust. “Well, there she goes now. Miss High and Mighty. Probably can’t find her own shoes, or rouge, or some such. You sure you want to be an assistant to a piece of work like that?”
“Is she always that loud?” Edwina asked, and Max put his lips together and blew out a wet raspberry.
“Oh, that? Only when she’s sober. When she’s hit the sauce, she’s ten times worse. Luckily, she hasn’t gone on a bender for a while.”
He craned his head a bit and peered down the unlit hallway behind them. “Nice try, Bunny,” he called out, making sure his voice carried. “I can see you standing there. You can’t hide from her forever, you know.”
“Humph,” came the dissatisfied reply. “I can try.”
“Give me a buck and I won’t rat you out,” Max offered, as he slowly walked into the darkness.
“Are you kidding?” Bunny asked, sounding exasperated, and Max smiled in reply.
Muttering some foul words under her breath, Bunny started digging in her handbag. She finally pulled out a quarter. “This is all I’ve got. Take it or leave it.”
Max stuck out his hand and Bunny slapped the coin into his palm. “Fine, it’s worth it,” she muttered. “I swear, you’d sell your own mother for a dollar.”
“No, I wouldn’t.” He grinned at her. “Well, maybe for five. She was a rotten mother.”
Bunny turned to Edwina. “So, are you sure you still want to meet her?”
“Of course,” Edwina said, straightening herself up in determination. “I’m here to help her, aren’t I?”
Max may not have known Edwina was going to be secretly snooping around to help the film star find out who had sent the blackmail letters, but Bunny understood completely.
“Yes, you’re right.” She looked at Max, who had pulled his keys out of his pocket and was nonchalantly swinging them around on his finger. “I’ll take it from here.”
“Sounds good,” he said, then glanced at Edwina. “You’ve seen the sights, you’ve met Serena, and I still have a mouse to catch. Maybe I’ll go find that skinny pussycat that’s been lurking around the trashcans and see what he can do about the situation.”
As he headed off toward the office, Bunny looped her hand through Edwina’s elbow and pulled her toward the side of the hallway with the dressing rooms. “Okay, you’re going to be going into the lion’s den, so there are a few things you need to know. Miss Linwood can be difficult, but she has her reasons for what she does. It hasn’t been easy for her, working like this.”
“Working like what?” Edwina was listening carefully to Bunny, all while trying to observe as much of her surroundings as possible.
“Like this,” Bunny said, gesturing to the entire interior of the building. The high ceiling and dark beams made it almost feel like an enormous cave, with wooden posts as thick as a man in spots to hold the massive ceiling up. “All of it. Being in the center of it. She used to be just a bit actress in the pictures, but when talkies came out she was one of the few who had a good voice. Once Gridhorn found out she sounded good on film, that was it. She suddenly went from being a background dancer or face in a crowd to being the leading lady.” She smirked a bit. “Well, her voice was good enough for the talkies, that’s true, but rumor has it she had a few very… personal… friends in high places.” She dropped her voice and raised her eyebrows suggestively. “That didn’t hurt with getting the juicy roles, either.”
“I see.” Edwina had heard about some of the less wholesome aspects of Hollywood, including how influential lustful executives and directors could be in the careers of young, pretty actresses. The thought made her stomach turn.
There was a blur of motion coming toward them, then stomping past. “Bunny, you follow me!”
As soon as Bunny saw it was Gloria Linwood she gasped and trotted along dutifully after her, her conversation with Edwina forgotten.
Trailing behind, Edwina could see Linwood was carrying a wadded-up ball of dark fabric. Her face was set in grim lines of defiance. The dark makeup around her eyes was smeared, her heavy pancake foundation patchy, revealing that she was older than her public bio would ever admit.
The actress flung open the door to the office with a resounding bang, and there was an exclamation from the two men inside.
“Albert, what is this crapola you’re trying to make me wear?” She wadded up the brown dress and flung it at the director’s head, just as he ducked. “Have you seen what Serena’s doing to the costumes in your movie? Is she insane? Beastly Affair? If I wear this thing the fans are going to start calling this movie ‘The Hideous Dress Affair’!”
Standing outside the doorjamb, Edwina could see a long-legged man with dark-rimmed glasses sitting at the battered wooden table, and a middle-aged man with a brown fedora and sharp features, standing on his feet, his arms crossed over his chest in seeming defiance. An old sofa was behind them, and several metal film cans were stacked on the sagging cushions. An old wooden bookcase by the left wall held bottles of solution and more film cans, along with a metal filing box for paperwork.
“Not now, Gloria!” he said. “I’m doing the best I can with the budget we have, and some economies had to be made.”
“Economies?” she sputtered. “What sort of director are you? That dress looks like it’s made out of cheap wallpaper! I wouldn’t hang it up over a toilet! It looks like something a tourist would wear in the worst parts of the world. I should blow my nose on that rag!”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” the long-legged man said with a dramatic sigh. “Can we please get realistic here? Miss Linwood,” he said as he rose to his feet, his tone suddenly softer, “the truth is that Chicago isn’t the cheapest place to film a movie these days. Certain… fees have to be paid to various people around town, and it’s draining this production dry. We’re trying to take care of all the expenses, but it’s going to be a gamble to see if we can make back the money we’re investing here.”
Gloria Linwood straightened up and blinked at the man. “Clyde, what does that mean? You’re talking about not being able to pay people, aren’t you?”
Clyde opened his mouth to reply but the director, Albert Gridhorn, cut him off. “Of course that’s not what he’s saying, sweetheart!” he said in a soothing voice, turning on the charm with a comforting smile. “Clyde’s only the editor and he doesn’t handle the money.” He turned toward Clyde. “That’s right, isn’t it, Mr. Clyde Baxter?” The underlying stress in his voice was obvious, and Clyde gave a great sigh, then looked at the floor.
Gridhorn turned back
to his leading lady. “I’m the director for a reason. Gloria, honey, you don’t have to worry about a thing! I’ve got it all handled, and everything is going to be fine.”
Gloria Linwood’s eye narrowed in suspicion. “Fine for everyone, Mr. Gridhorn, or only fine for you? This may be your movie, but the rest of us need to be paid, too.”
“Everything’s going to turn out just fine. Have I ever lied to you?” Gridhorn asked, a warm smile on his face as he put a hand on the actress’ shoulder and guided her out of the room, Edwina and Bunny ushered ahead of them.
“Lied to me?” Gloria Linwood, star of the silver screen, gave a huge huff of laughter. “Are you serious?”
The door shut behind them with a resounding bang, and Linwood looked at the cardboard sign marked ‘office’, her face set in lines of bitterness.
“As many times as there are stars in the sky.”
Chapter 6
“So, Miss Linwood, tell me about these blackmail letters.”
Edwina waited, standing by Bunny just inside Linwood’s dressing room door. The aging actress looked up from where she sat in front of her lighted makeup mirror. She glanced over and paused, powder-puff still in hand. Her hair had already been styled in elaborate curls piled on her head and she was wearing a green silk dressing gown. The entire room was disorganized chaos, with clothing draped over every available surface, and a fainting couch covered with newspapers and several dirty plates, complete with forks and food remnants.
“Well, well. I wondered when you were going to get down to business.” She looked Edwina over thoroughly, as if considering. “Bunny says you have some experience with investigating and such, but are you sure you can help me?”
“I’ll do my best.” Edwina tried to look intelligent and confident, but Gloria Linwood seemed less than impressed. She turned back toward the mirror and patted the puff on her face a couple of times as white powder floated in the air around her.
“Well, you’re better than nothing, I suppose. You saw the letter, where the blackmailer wants me to pay double or they’re going to go to the press?”
Edwina nodded. “Yes, I did. Can you tell me what information you’re trying to keep private?”
Out of the corner of her eye, Edwina could see Bunny frantically shaking her head ‘no’, a look of fear on her face. If anyone would know what topics were off-limits, it would be Bunny.
Linwood gave a short bark of contempt, set down her powder-puff and picked up a stick of lip rouge. “If I’m not going to let the world know my private business, I’m certainly not going to share it with some two-bit lady detective.”
Edwina sighed. “I can understand how you’d want to keep things quiet, but it might help me to find suspects if I understood what I’m looking for.” She walked over to the vanity and locked eyes with Gloria Linwood. “It would also help if I were able to read the letters you received. I’m the soul of discretion, I promise.”
The actress pursed her newly colored lips in thought. “I appreciate your interest in why I’m being blackmailed, but I’d rather not share too many details.” Her eyes dropped to the tabletop, littered with tissues, wedge sponges, a postcard with the words MEXICO in big pink letters tucked into the corner of the mirror, and uncapped cosmetics. “Let’s just say that there may have been things in my past which I’d like to keep very private.” She took a deep breath. “And I’m sure you understand.”
For the first time since Edwina had seen Linwood, the lady’s eyes seemed sad, her façade of toughness and anger slipping away.
“I completely understand,” Edwina said, even though the little bit of information Linwood was giving her wasn’t really a solid lead. She was going to have to tread lightly if she wanted to make any progress.
Bunny stepped forward, her forehead puckered in conciliatory concern. “I’ll still be doing most of the work as your assistant, and we figured Edwina could do some snooping around while we’re on the set. Is there anything else you want to tell her before she starts her investigation?”
Linwood sighed, and pulled the skin at the corner of her heavily lined eye upward, erasing any little lines that may have been there.
“Don’t waste your youth, girls,” she said, staring at her reflection, her voice bitter. “Don’t waste a second of it.”
**
“Hey! Can you get me some coffee, please?”
Edwina had been walking by the office door, a hatbox destined for Serena’s costume workshop in her hand, when the commanding voice caught her attention.
“Yes, sir?” she asked, looking inside. The tall man with the angular features she’d seen earlier, Clyde Baxter, was standing at a back table in the small office, a six-foot-long strip of celluloid film in one hand and a pair of black-handled scissors in the other. The top of the battered desk in front of the table was covered with papers, curled bits of film, some sort of cutter, and a brown bottle of glue.
Baxter pushed his horn-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose and blinked at Edwina.
“I’m right in the middle of editing this scene, and I’m so darn tired I almost can’t see straight. Would you mind running to the kitchen and getting me some hot coffee?” He smiled a bit. “I’m sorry if I bellowed at you.”
“Um, yes sir, I can do that for you, but I need to drop this off first.” She held up the hatbox and as soon as Clyde saw it he sighed.
“Let me guess. It’s the one with the wide brim and the yellow tulle around the crown. She hates the fake bird Serena put on it, and she wants it removed immediately. Am I right?”
Edwina’s eyebrows went up in surprise. “Well, yes, you are.” She glanced around the room, full of equipment and everything needed to run a movie company and do editing. “You’re stuck in here by yourself, and you know all about her hat?”
“Me? Just an editor?” Baxter pretended astonishment. “I will have you know, young lady…um, what’s your name?”
“Edwina.”
“Well, I’ll have you know, Edwina, that when you work for Albert Gridhorn it means you wear whatever hats he wants you to wear.” He gestured at the box Edwina was holding. “Except maybe that one. Gloria’s right. It is ugly.” Baxter smiled. “See? I have several hats, too. I’m not just the editor. I balance the books, deal with running the crew, and do whatever else needs to be done around here. I also write the checks and argue with the idiot writer as necessary. Some days it feels like I’m the chief cook and bottlewasher, too.”
“So, you know everything that happens around here, it sounds like,” Edwina said, and Baxter nodded.
“Sharing the office with Gridhorn, oh, I’ve heard some things. To tell the truth, I’ve probably forgotten more stuff than most people know,” he said, “and with this group of reprobates, that’s probably a good thing.”
The more Edwina learned about this group, the more she realized Clyde Baxter was probably correct.
“Oh, and one more thing,” Baxter added, his attention already turning back to the film in his hand. “Close the door behind you. Let’s keep the heat in here.”
Chapter 7
“Well, missy. Looks like it didn’t take long for you to find something you’d be able to do.”
“Max! Quit sneaking up on people!” Edwina exclaimed in irritation, trying to keep the mug of hot coffee from spilling all over the floor right outside the cafeteria. “I’m lucky I didn’t drop this.”
“Aw, poor baby,” Max said, grinning as he rocked back on his heels, both thumbs in his belt loops. “No need to be cross with me. I was coming over to tell you they’re going to start shooting in a few minutes, and we need to be quiet around the set. This is your first time with a movie company, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Well, if you want to come see how they do it, I can show you a place to stand where you’ll be out of the way.”
The thought of being able to see a movie being filmed was irresistible. Edwina had loved going to the pictures since she was a little girl, when t
he music was provided by an organist beside the screen. With a paper cone of popcorn in hand, she’d been thrilled by monumental epics, comedies with Harold Lloyd and Charlie Chaplin, and adventures she could be part of without ever leaving her seat.
After she’d delivered the coffee to a grateful Baxter, who was obviously puzzling over where to splice in a particular portion of film, she walked out of the office to find Max standing there, waiting.
“Okay, follow me,” he said, turning on his heel and striding away, and she had to hurry to keep up with him. He took her through several turns around unlit sets of interior rooms, then looped around behind the two tall cameras set up in front of a brightly lit fake bedroom, complete with a four-post bed with fantastically carved end posts and a matching wardrobe. An arched window was located into the set’s wall, flanked by velvet curtains, and a suit of replica armor stood guard next to the door. A man wearing a fur suit zipped up to his neck was leaning against the bedpost, moving his lips as he read a script. A makeup artist wearing a red bandana over her hair and an enormous red coat was using a brush and some glue to tack small pieces of fur to the face and hair of the ‘beast’. Gloria Linwood was striding back and forth across the set, her hands on the narrow waist of her white corset, a lacy petticoat and a sheer robe frothing about her bare legs as she muttered to herself and cast occasional glares at her director. The heavy makeup needed to show up on-screen was plastered onto her face in overblown color, making her almost look like a caricature, with highly arched eyebrows and dark red lipstick and rouge.
Albert Gridhorn didn’t seem to notice at all. He was locked in an intense conversation with the head cameraman, their voices rising and falling as the lively discussion continued. The cameraman didn’t seem to be backing down at all, and it looked like he was actually grinding his teeth together in frustration, his jaw rigid. Edwina strained to hear what they were arguing about, but Max had positioned them so far from the cameras she couldn’t quite catch what they were saying.
A Fatal Affair Page 3