Eleven

Fitz was kind enough to drive us to Selig’s Randolph Street offices. I was glad to step down and find myself back in the city. The hustle and bustle of the crowds was at least real. Here the buildings were solid, not just painted fronts. Here the problems were real, the dramas and tragedies were very real, and it was all a sharp contrast to the half-built, half-felt staged scenes we’d left behind at the two film studios.

When we reached the third-floor offices, we were greeted by Col. Selig. He bowed us into a room where the windows were blacked out by heavy drapes. Introducing a young man as the projectionist, he ushered us to padded seats in front of a large screen. “So, I’ve asked Jeff to show you the reel Mr. Hyde was reviewing on Tuesday. That was the last time he was here. This is a reel of three shorts—a comic cowboy scene, a melodrama, and a romantic comedy. Of course, in the nickelodeon, there would be music, but we leave it to the exhibitors to provide that, with some suggestions, you see.”

The single light was turned off and we heard the clickety-clack of the projector as the screen flickered with the white Diamond “S” for Selig Polyscope Company. Then we saw, in quick succession, a cowboy tricked into mounting a horse that threw him immediately; a beautiful, young Kathlyn Williams being harassed by an evil little man, then saved by the entrance of the handsome Alonzo Swift; and, finally, a bashful Babe Greer being proposed to by a kneeling suitor who was also played by Alonzo Swift. In the final scene, acceptance was followed by a vigorous embrace and long kiss. It was all over very quickly, then Col. Selig turned the light back on.

“Were you present when he watched the film?” Whitbread asked him.

“No, actually, I was out of town. That’s why I asked Mr. Cabot and Mr. Leeder to be here. You see, we’d re-done the scene with Kathlyn Williams so the villain never touches her. Mr. Hyde objected to an earlier version where the landlord grabbed her.” He cleared his throat. “Mr. Cabot suggested we put the scene on a reel with the romantic comedy of Babe Greer for contrast. He rightly pointed out that Mr. Hyde had never objected to any of Miss Greer’s scenes. I told him it’s not worth arguing with the censor, he has the power, but he had a point. It’s true that Kathlyn Williams is always in more tragic melodramas. Still, you must see that nothing unacceptable is happening in the scene.”

“Could we see that once more?” I asked. There was something that bothered me about the scene, but I couldn’t say what it was.

They turned out the lights and showed the reel again. This time I realized what I’d seen.

“That man, the villain in the scene with Kathlyn Williams,” I said, when the lights went on again. “Doesn’t he look a lot like Mr. Hyde?” I could see in my mind, the little man fallen back on the white gauze of the frilly bedspread. “He was short and squat with sideburns, just like that man, wasn’t he?” I bit my lip as I remembered the scene. It was impossible not to feel the taboo of a body bereft of its spirit. You naturally turned away from it. I didn’t know anyone who would look at a corpse by choice. How strange to see someone you know is gone appear on a screen as if he were still alive. Mr. Hyde had seemed to be on the screen. I was sure the resemblance was real.

Col. Selig looked uncomfortable and fiddled with his large hands, which hung from his lap.

“Colonel Selig,” Whitbread said.

“It was another idea of Mr. Cabot’s. Last week we used a different actor. This one is our Teddy Roosevelt impersonator without the false teeth and pince-nez. Mr. Cabot recognized a similarity with Hyde and suggested we use him for the part when we re-did the scenario. It was mischievous of him, of course. I didn’t realize until we saw the negatives. By then it seemed better to go ahead and print it.”

“I suppose Mr. Hyde took offense at being portrayed as the villain assaulting Kathlyn Williams and that’s what caused him to storm out?” Whitbread asked.

“No, he stayed for the whole reel,” the projectionist said. “He saw the whole thing and then he rushed off. Mr. Cabot tried to stop him, to make him admit the middle scene was less scandalous than the last, but he kept going.”

“Mr. Hyde was very conscientious,” Fitz said.

“Unfortunately, he wasn’t conscientious enough to sign off on that reel of film,” Col. Selig said. “And, as a result, we’ve been unable to release it.”

“Well, I think we can take care of that,” Fitz said. “As temporary chief censor, I can see nothing wrong with it.”

Col. Selig sighed. “Please, come to my office so we can deal with the paperwork. This is what I told you about back at the studio. The rest of the forms are here.”

They left Detective Whitbread and myself with the projectionist who ran the short films one more time so Whitbread could confirm my impression about the man who looked like Hyde. Really, the scene with the landlord appeared quite chaste. And, when rescued by her leading man, the heroine portrayed by Kathlyn Williams barely held hands with her rescuer, looking away and down. He appeared to burn with admiration for her but there was no suggestion of intimacy.

Alden had been clever to follow that with the Babe Greer scene, especially since the same leading man was embracing the innocent young girl in the end. Yet, in the comedy, it was all done in good faith and with obvious intentions for a happily married future for the couple.

“These censors certainly have a lot of power,” I said to Whitbread when the lights were on again. The machine clicked in the background as the projectionist rewound the film.

“All the more so, with the scandals in the Levee this year and the crusaders down there every night, serenading the houses of ill repute with psalms,” he said. “After the arrest of one of our police captains for taking money from brothel owners, the mayor can’t take any more bad press on morals issues. The Film Board is a way for the mayor to demonstrate he’s serious about enforcing morality. And I understand Selig really has been cooperative. He’s anxious for the audience to be expanded beyond those who go to the Levee for entertainment. He wants to appeal to the wives and children, not just the men out for cheap entertainment.”

“So you wouldn’t expect him to murder a censor, then?”

“No, I could see some of the hotheads down in the Levee getting worked up and taking a shot at one of the reverends who go parading down there trying to reform the harlots, but not Selig. I think he’d just do whatever the censor asked.” Whitbread walked to a side table and picked up a couple of printed newspapers. They were tabloids devoted to the film business. “See this? That’s the type of publicity Selig wants.”

He handed me the paper and I saw a prominent article about a romance between Babe Greer and Alonzo Swift. There was a picture of them both in a motorcar, waving. It was all very sweet and chaste. My eye was caught by a smaller headline further down. I read the article then passed it back to Whitbread. “I assume this is the type of publicity he doesn’t want.” It was about how Kathlyn Williams was in the midst of a rancorous divorce. There were rumors of unfaithfulness on her part and accusations of miserly behavior on her former husband’s. “Perhaps that’s what Hyde had against Kathlyn Williams. She left her husband, as his wife left him. The man seems to have taken rather irrationally against her. Comparison of those scenes clearly shows that bias,” I said.

“And your brother appears to be Miss Williams’s defender.”

The projectionist was placing the reel of film into a tin container. “Is Mr. Cabot your brother then, ma’am? He sure was upset with that Mr. Hyde. He ran after the man, yelling at him, and Mr. Leeder had to grab his collar to pull him back.”

“But arguing with the man is one thing. That’s something Alden would do,” I said to Whitbread. “He wouldn’t shoot the man, though. Besides, he didn’t follow him in the end, did he?” I asked the projectionist. “You said Mr. Leeder pulled him back?”

“That’s right. Him and Mr. Leeder went back to the studios up on Western Avenue. They had a big shoot in the morning and they said they had some things to fix there.”

Well, that wasn’t helpful, either, because they’d gone back to the studio where Mr. Hyde was shot later that night. Alden was definitely not in the clear and I could tell, by the way Whitbread looked at me, that he knew it, too.

Alden, however did you get yourself into this mess?