Long before the movies came to town, the ramshackle old Hollywood Hotel was a retreat for wealthy consumptives in need of winter sun. A resort for folk who liked good manners, plain food and polite conversation. The lobby still bore a sign pronouncing ‘No movies, no dogs’, though only as an amusing museum piece. Yet despite the largesse rained down on it by those selfsame movies for almost a decade, the interior was looking jaded now. Still the old hotel soldiered on as one of the colony’s principal daytime watering holes, even if the evening trade had vanished to more fashionable venues. It was especially favored by those who thought of themselves as being among the small elite band of pioneers who had recognized this light-drenched patch of California for the movie-making idyll it could be, and made it their home.
Mack Sennett had every right to claim a place in that select group. Seated on a plush settee in the center of the lobby, he was surrounded by a clutch of chattering young women, all exceptionally pretty and à la mode in pleated skirts and cloche hats, hair poking out in artfully looped kiss curls and bangs, face paint generously applied. Sennett’s Bathing Beauties, a scattering of new signings among them, to judge by the whiff of flash pans in the air and the handful of newsmen flirting and firing questions.
Tom waited until the last of the newsmen had gone, each with a sawbuck folded into his palm to squeeze an extra inch or two of ink. As Tom approached, Sennett raised his jaw and every face in the circle flashed towards him, glittering eyes, parting lips – a broadside of pulchritude.
‘Tommy boy, at last. I was beginning to think you’d gone to ground on me. Sit down, man, here, here.’ He signaled for space to be made beside him. ‘So, what have you got for me? Did you talk to Mabel?’
Tom embarked on a full account of his morning at Overholtzer’s, Sennett’s forehead furrowing ever deeper but remaining silent for the most part, grunts and sniffs the sole indicators of his thoughts until Tom recounted the details of his brief exchange with Normand.
‘I’ll be honest, Mack, they hustled her out of there so fast, it was probably for the best with all those newspaper boys buzzing around. What she did say to me was that you don’t need to worry about her. “Just dandy” were her exact words.’
Sennett was unimpressed. ‘So where can I reach her?’
Tom hesitated, looking for the right words.
‘You did ask her, I presume?’ Sennett prompted impatiently.
‘’Course I did. Only problem is, she insisted she doesn’t want to be reached.’
Sennett’s face flushed. ‘What the hell’s that supposed to mean?’
‘I’m sorry, Mack. There’s really no good way of saying this. Miss Normand said she doesn’t want you calling. Or being anywhere near just now. There was no mistaking what she meant.’
‘But that’s, that’s …’ Sennett’s coloring took a trip towards purple, and a scramble for words that would not come did nothing to alleviate it.
Tom took his chance to get the rest out while he could. ‘That’s not the worst of it. The DA doesn’t want you contacting her either. Woolwine said to tell you that straight.’
‘What are you now?’ Sennett growled at last. ‘The DA’s messenger boy? Christ in heaven, I expected you to come back with more than this.’
‘Look, Mack, don’t go laying the blame for this at my door. I did what you asked and spoke with her – and I haven’t told you half the mess I had to go through to do that. If Miss Normand doesn’t want to see you, it’s no fault of mine. But if you just keep your hair on for a minute, you’ll see it’s not all bad news. At least we know she’s safe. And we know now the DA’s not viewing her as a suspect.’ You, maybe, he considered adding, but thought better of it.
Sennett seemed to relax a little and leaned in towards him, his voice even lower than before. ‘That’s all fine and good, but what can we do to make sure she stays safe until they clear her name?’
‘That’s just it. I’m not sure you need to do anything. I got a feel from Woolwine that, somehow, Miss Normand is under his protection right now.’
Sennett looked up, sharp as a tack. ‘In what way?’
‘I don’t know. Just that him and that deputy of his, Doran, they were behaving real protective towards her, as if she was in their care. Woolwine even said it: “My office has the situation in hand.”’
‘What situation? Why would she need their protection?’
Tom wondered if he had said too much. But what choice did he have? Either way, Sennett getting jumpy again would not help anyone.
‘Look, I have no idea, Mack. All I’m saying is, if what Woolwine says is true, Miss Normand is safe. She can’t be out on the razzle all night with his guys by her side.’
‘Shut up,’ Sennett hissed. ‘I told you before I didn’t want you repeating those lies. And don’t think for a minute I can’t see what you’re up to. No way are you pulling out of this now. Here’s how I see it. You say Mabel’s not a suspect, but every newspaper I read is screaming the exact opposite. They’re the ones we need to convince, and you’re going to go out and find something that proves it to them.’
Tom threw his hands up. It was like talking to a wall. ‘For Chrissakes, Mack, what the hell more can I do? You can’t control what the papers say. Even if you could, the cops won’t like me poking my nose in deeper, and Woolwine says he’ll stick me in a cell if I go near Miss Normand again. How the hell am I supposed to prove anything when I can’t even talk to her?’
‘Know what?’ Sennett was rubbing his hands together as though he’d settled the matter in his own mind and wanted to move on. ‘That’s your problem, Tommy boy. All I know is, you’re seeing this through whether you want to or not. Otherwise, you’ll find yourself without a roof over your head and with a debt collector on your back. Do you understand me?’
Tom got to his feet, his eyes fixed on Sennett’s. ‘I understand you, Mack. I’ll do what I can. Just don’t expect to hear back from me anytime soon.’