23

THE MOVIE

The screening of Femme Fatale—the Blair Kendrick Story continues as the scene shifts to shots of Blair on various sets on soundstages as her character a) robs a bank, b) drives an automobile with rear-screen projection of a cityscape in the back window, and c) is slapped by a man whose back is to us, falls to the floor, and shoots him with a gun that was hidden in a holster on her thigh under her dress. The voice-over narrates.

“Production was delayed a couple of weeks due to unforeseen circumstances in Jimmy Cagney’s schedule, so we didn’t start until the end of January in 1949. By the time February rolled around, we had less than a half hour of footage in the can. I was a little worried about my health—and of course the baby’s, too. The movie was very physical, and I had to do some stunts without a double. Meanwhile, Hank and I were counting the days when I could walk away and we could start a new life together.”

Zelda powdered Blair’s face, the final step in the morning’s makeup session. The actress was due on the set in a half hour.

“There you go, honey,” the woman said. “You need help with your costume?”

“No, thank you, Zelda.”

“All right, you call me if you need me.” Zelda packed up her makeup kit and left the room. Blair got out of the high chair and closed the door. She didn’t want anyone to see the coming struggle.

She had noticed a week earlier that the costumes were becoming snug. Today’s was a high-waisted pair of wide-leg pants and a simple blouse, buttoned at the collar—something that might have been worn by Katharine Hepburn or Marlene Dietrich. When Blair put on the pants, she had to suck in and strain to fasten the snap. The belt helped, but she was terribly uncomfortable. Getting through the day’s shoot was going to be an ordeal.

When she was dressed, she took one more look in the mirror at her face and makeup, took a deep breath, and left the dressing room, ready to report to the set.

“That’s a wrap!”

The assistant director called it, indicating they were done for the day. Blair was exhausted, hungry, and depressed. She wasn’t happy with her performance so far. She hadn’t bothered to watch the dailies, and she had overheard the cameraman telling the grip, “She’s not at a hundred percent.” Her costar, too, seemed not to have his heart in the picture. Blair had heard that although Cagney had agreed to do the movie, he had never really wanted to return to the tough-guy gangster roles that had made him famous in the early thirties.

The mood on the set was dark.

Blair headed for the dressing room, eager to get out of the tight clothes and off the lot. She and Hank had planned a quiet dinner together at his house, and she couldn’t wait to relax in front of his fireplace. It was an unusually cold February in Southern California, and the blaze in the hearth was going to feel cozy.

“Miss Kendrick?”

She turned to see one of the PAs in the corridor, a young man in his early twenties.

“Yes?”

“Mr. Hirsch would like to see you.”

“Can I get out of costume and makeup first?”

“I believe he wants to see you as soon as possible. I’m supposed to escort you.”

Damn. “Oh, all right.” She turned and followed the PA out of the soundstage and into the brisk breeze. She hadn’t bothered to get a coat because it was a short walk to the administration building. They were there in five minutes, but still she shivered and rubbed her arms over the sleeves of the blouse.

She thanked the PA and approached Hirsch’s first lieutenant. Camille didn’t look up from whatever she was working on. “Go on in,” she said.

Blair opened the door behind the desk and went down the dim hallway toward the light at the end. Hirsch’s door was ajar. She suddenly had butterflies in her stomach; somehow, she knew this wasn’t going to go well.

“You wanted to see me, Eldon?” she asked from the open doorway.

He was behind the broad desk, silhouetted by the standing lamp behind him. This time, his head was not looking down at his coin collection. He sat straight, focused ahead, right at her.

“Come in, Blair.”

She strode across the gold-colored carpet and paused at the spot where she had made a mess a few months earlier. “Oh, I see you were able to clean the spot. Again, I’m so sorry about that, Eldon.”

“Never mind. Come here.”

He motioned to the chair in front of the desk, and she sat. He had a cigar going, but he offered an open metal cigarette case to her.

“No, thank you,” she said.

He snapped it shut, placed his elbows on the desk, and clasped his fingers. “I’ve seen the dailies.”

“You always see the dailies. Don’t you?”

He shrugged. “Not when I’m confident things are going well. Apparently, The Boss and the Blonde is not. And I don’t think it’s the director’s fault.”

“Eldon, the script … well, I don’t think it’s very good.”

“The script is fine. It’s you that’s the problem. Actually, it’s you and Cagney both. There’s no chemistry. What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just not feeling it this time. I can’t speak for Jimmy.”

Hirsch took a drag of the cigar and blew smoke in her direction. “I’ve noticed something else in the dailies.”

“What’s that?”

“You’re gaining weight.”

She laughed nervously. “I am? Yeah, well, lately I’ve had a hard time keeping my girlish figure. The holidays last month, you know …”

“That’s not it. You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

The knot in her stomach exploded.

“Eldon …”

“Well? You are, aren’t you!”

She looked down and nodded.

“It’s him, isn’t it? The Negro. He’s the father?”

She nodded again. Then she met his eyes and said, “We’re going to get married as soon as the picture wraps.”

“The hell you are.”

“Eldon, you can’t stop us. It’s legal now in California. Hank and I can get married.”

“It may be legal, but it sure isn’t right! Are you nuts? You’ll ruin your career. I can’t have my star actress married to a goddamn Negro!”

“Eldon! Please don’t say that.”

He pointed a finger at her. “Get rid of it. That’s an order. I’ll have Buddy arrange it. He’ll be in touch with you. I want it done this Friday so you’ll have the weekend to recover and be back on the set on Monday.”

“No, Eldon, I won’t do it.”

“The hell you won’t! You want to keep your job, don’t you?”

“No. I don’t. You can fire me, Eldon. I was going to tell you when the picture was done. I’m through.”

He stared at her as if he was looking at a freak of nature. Finally, he said, “Are you out of your pretty little mind? You think Ultimate Pictures is just going to let you walk away? You’re our biggest star. I think you just need some rehabilitation. A vacation. We’ll get you fixed up, take care of your little ‘problem,’ and then send you somewhere nice and quiet so you can get your fucking marbles back.”

“That’s not going to happen, Eldon.”

“Oh yes, it is!”

With that, she stood. “Are we done, Eldon? I’m awfully tired and I’m hungry and I’ve had a long day. I’ll work on that chemistry with Jimmy.” She turned and started to walk away.

“Blair, I decide when a meeting is over!” She kept going. His voice rose higher as the distance between them increased. “Blair, I will make sure you never work in this town again! I’ll scrap the picture! Better to do that now than take a hit at the box office! Do you hear me?”

She was at the door. “Blair!”

She walked out and shut the door behind her. She and Camille shared a glance, but the women said nothing to each other. Blair continued out of the office and, with her head held high, marched back to her dressing room. Only when she was behind the closed door did she crumple into a chair, trembling and sobbing.

The setting in the film shifts to nighttime in Eldon Hirsch’s office. The studio mogul sits alone at his desk. The coin collection is tucked away in the safe, out of sight. He sits and stares at the signed photograph of Blair Kendrick. Hirsch reaches out and, with two fingers, lightly caresses her face over the glass frame.

He had been expecting the knock on the door.

“Come in.”

Malena Mengarelli sauntered in slowly across the long expanse of the carpet. This time she wore a tight-fitting black dress that accentuated her tall, hourglass figure. The muted lighting sparked highlights off her red hair.

“Hello, Eldon.”

“How are you, Malena? How’s Tonino?”

“Tonino is fine.”

“Won’t you sit down?”

“No. You know why I’m here?”

Hirsch inhaled deeply and exhaled. “Yeah. I still owe a couple of payments on the loan.”

The woman with the cold, steel brown eyes shook her head. “No, that’s not why I’m here. You’ve been diligent in keeping up with those. Sort of.” She opened her Prada Galleria handbag and removed a Colt police revolver. No frills. A swing-out cylinder, double-action, .38-caliber. She didn’t point the gun at him, but simply held it flat, horizontally, in the palm of her right hand, as if she were making an offering of it to him.

“What’s that for?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m just allowing you to admire it. You see, it’s going to be the death of you. This very weapon will be the cause of your demise, Eldon, and I will have the pleasure of pushing the button, you might say. Tonino—and your good pal, Meyer—recognize that I have a certain penchant—and talent. You know that, right? Don’t answer, it was a rhetorical question.” She replaced the gun in her handbag. “Twenty million.”

“What?”

“That’s the figure that seems to be missing, Eldon. Twenty million dollars. That’s a lot of money, even for Tonino and Meyer.”

Eldon swallowed. “I swear, Malena, I don’t know anything about—”

“Shut up, Eldon. Nothing points to you. You’re right. If you’ve done anything with our money, you’ve covered your tracks well. We’re going to keep digging, though. Tonino has employed some excellent auditors. It might take a couple more months, maybe three, for them to get to the bottom of it. In the meantime, just keep up with your loan payments. But if there’s anything else on your conscience, you have a little more time to clear it. However, be aware that the consequences will come with no warning. It will happen when you least expect it. That’s all. Good night.” Then she turned and moved across the floor to the exit, her hips swaying.

Damn it to hell. Now it was imperative for Ultimate Pictures to churn out a couple of big hits as quickly as possible. He couldn’t lose Blair Kendrick now. The entire studio, his career, and his life depended on personally earning twenty million dollars to replace what he had deftly and secretly lifted over time since 1939, when Ultimate Pictures was founded. He was a very wealthy man, but he didn’t have that kind of money to dole out in one lump sum. He had squandered so much of it—gambling, women, partying, cars, travel, rare coins …

He’d been a fool.

And the only man Hirsch would have thought he could trust—Buddy Franco—was assuredly reporting back to Vegas about everything the studio head did.

At least Franco would take care of the dirty work that needed to be done regarding Blair, and none of that could wait any longer.