Chase The Rabbit: Gretch Bayonne Action Adventure Series Book #1 Page 12

  “I guess we should go to sleep now,” I said. “I have to start looking for this man as soon as possible, starting tomorrow. But I don’t even know where to begin looking.”

  “I’ll make a deal with you then,” Bela said, looking up at me. “You work with me here tomorrow, on these scenes, and on Monday, I will take you with me on the set.”

  “On the set?” I asked.

  “Yes, to the first day of filming of my new movie,” he answered. “We can find out when any extras will be scheduled.”

  “I don’t have a clue about making movies or where to go to find these people they use as extras,” I answered. “So I guess it is as good a place as any to start.”

  “Hollywood is not so big,” Bela said. “But there are thousands of people. You help me tomorrow, and I will do everything I can to put you in contact with people so you can find your man. And you can stay here for as long as it takes.”

  I couldn’t have asked for a better bargain. The next morning I was awoken by the smell of bacon. I had slept quite soundly, and had no dreams or nightmares that I could remember. When I walked into the kitchen, I saw Bela and a woman sitting at the table chatting friendly.

  “Oh, Bay!” Lugosi said. “Come join us! This is Lisa Mattingly, my agent. Lisa, Mr. Bay. He is a famous writer.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I said, as I sat down.

  “The phone has not stopped ringing since we arrived!” Bela said.

  “I have been battling the radio and newsmen all night,” Lisa said. “I was just telling Mr. Lugosi that you all should have stayed in the Hearst mansion as he suggested….”

  “Yes, yes, yes!” Bela interrupted. “I could not get any work done there! We have been over this a million times!”

  “All the major studios have cancelled their shooting schedules for tomorrow, and the next day,” she continued.

  “We are talking about the Halperin Brothers,” Bela said. “They are independents, and of all of these messages you have brought me, not one is from the Halperins.”

  “I haven’t heard anything from Victor Halperin or his brother,” Lisa said. “But I am sure….”

  “Then as far as I am concerned, the terms of my contract with them remain the same. Which means I am due on the set of White Zombie at six o’clock tomorrow morning.”

  “What time?” I finally interjected.

  “Six o’clock,” Bela said. “In the morning.”

  I chewed on a piece of bacon as the two of them went back and forth about what Bela should do. I blocked them out for a few minutes and enjoyed my breakfast. The orange juice was damned good!

  “Where did you get this?” I asked Bela, completely interrupting them.

  “Get what?” he asked.

  “This orange juice! It is fantastic!”

  “It is good, isn’t it?” he replied. “It is fresh squeezed.”

  “My god, man!” I said. “I’ve never had anything like this!”

  “Well,” Lisa said. “This is California.”

  “Yes,” I said. “Yes, it is. And they grow oranges in California, right?” I asked her.

  “Yes, Mr. Bay,” she answered. “They do.”

  “And here in Hollywood, specifically, they make movies?” I asked.

  “We make movies. Yes, Mr. Bay,” she responded.

  “Just between us,” I said, “how much money are they paying you, Bela, to make this particular movie?”

  “I don’t think that’s any of your business,” the agent blurted out.

  “Five thousand dollars,” Bela replied, smiling. He knew where I was going with this.

  “Yes,” I said. “That’s a great deal of money. That would buy a lot of orange juice. And how long did you tell me it will take you to make this movie?”

  “Two weeks at most,” Bela answered.

  “With all due respect, Mr. Bay,” the agent said, “I understand your point. I know the numbers. I am just suggesting that in light of the circumstances, the movie may, and should be put off.”

  “It sounds like you have been listening to everyone except your client,” I told her.

  “You don’t know orange juice, Mr. Bay,” she replied coldly. “Have either of you been listening to the radio? I am concerned about Bela’s long term career. I would never have approved this independent film for him in the first place. He agreed to it without first consulting with me. It doesn’t sit well with the studios and could cost him work in the future.”

  “I am not under contract with anyone,” Bela said. “If they want to offer one, I will listen. Until then, I will work for whomever pays me the most.”

  “But if you do not go along with the program,” she countered, “no major studio will be willing to offer you anything other than a one off.”

  “And the program is to keep out of sight for the next few days and not work?” I asked.

  “Exactly,” she said. “Anyone who shows up on the set of White Zombie on Monday will be looked upon as

  insensitive and an outsider of the Hollywood community.

  I just don’t want to see Bela thought of in that way.”

  “If you can get the Halperin brothers to call me and tell me it is postponed, then I will agree,” Bela said. “Otherwise, I am under contract to do it whether I personally want to or not. I am not a lawyer, but I know they could sue me if I don’t.”

  “No judge in his right mind would uphold a lawsuit against you for that,” she said. “Not in this town.”

  “There are two things in this world I wouldn’t count on,” I said. “Politicians and judges.”

  Lisa threw her papers into her briefcase, obviously upset and frustrated. She stood up and slammed the case shut as I sipped the best damned orange juice in the world. She stared at me and then looked at Bela.

  “As your agent,” she said, “I am advising you not to make that movie.” She walked out of the kitchen and slammed the front door as she left.

  Bela was not happy. It upset him, but he held most of that inside. I could see it in his face. He was a man conflicted. I knew he was doubting himself and his decision to go on with White Zombie.

  “I am sorry, Bela,” I said. “I overstepped my bounds on this one.”

  “No,” he said, looking very serious. “I feel this is the right thing to do. Thank you for agreeing with me.”

  “I could have thrown a flashbulb on the sidewalk as she left,” I said. “But I don’t know where you keep them.”

  He broke into a grin and laughed quietly.

  “Are you ready to read lines with me?” he asked.

  “I am ready to do more than that,” I said. “I am ready to act them out with you.”

  “Let’s do it then,” he said.

  “Grab the rabbit by the throat,” I answered.

  Chapter Sixteen

  How hard could acting be? I thought. Don’t you just pretend?

  Hell, I’d been pretending all my life. I can’t believe people get paid to do this. And the more you pretend, the more convincing you are, and the more money you get.

  Bela had his agent dispatch three assistants to field phone calls and answer the door while we rehearsed his scenes for White Zombie.

  “I do not want any interruptions!” Bela told them. “And I do not care who it is. Just take a message.”

  We went over every scene he would be in, and by the end of the day, he had it down pat.

  “I think I am ready,” Bela said.

  “Yes, I believe you are!” I replied. “Do you do this for all your movies?”

  “I try to,” he responded. “And for this movie, I know they are going to want to shoot the scenes as quickly as possible.”

  “Do you really think all the others are not going to work?” I asked. “Do you think they are still holed up at Hearst’s place?”

  “I would imagine so,” Bela replied. “But that is none of my concern. Let’s go to the kitchen and get something to eat. I’m starving.”

  Yioko was not there, so w
e rummaged through the ice box and found cold cuts. Just as we were making sandwiches, one of the assistants came in with a stack of papers.

  “These are your messages,” the young girl said. “And they are still coming in. Would you like me to read them to you?”

  “No,” he replied as he picked up his sandwich. “Just give me a synopsis.”

  “A what?” the girl asked.

  “A general idea,” he said. “Just an overview.”

  The girl seemed a bit shaken. I imagine she wasn’t used to being in such a position.

  “Oh,” she said. “Okay. Well, most of them are from newspaper and radio men.”

  “Not interested,” Bela said, taking another bite of braunschweiger and bread.

  “Some are from the Hearst camp,” she continued.

  “Not interested,” he replied.

  She continued shuffling through the small papers looking a bit lost.

  “There’s a message from your pool cleaner,” she said, her voice cracking.

  “Give me that one,” Bela said, reaching out for the paper.

  “There are so many,” the poor girl sighed. “And Jean Harlow…”

  “We will take that one!” I interjected, grabbing the note.

  “You can just leave them all here,” Bela said, smiling. He dismissed the assistant, adding, “and you are doing a good job, my dear. Please continue.”

  The message from Jean was short and sweet.

  “Well, what does it say?” Bela asked.

  I read him the message to him verbatim.

  “I need more sheets to escape from my house. It is crazier than the Hearst Mansion. Please rescue me. Love, Jean.”

  We both laughed as we polished off our dinner.

  “I told you that girl is trouble!” Bela quipped.

  “No,” I said, “you did not. But you didn’t have to. I figured that out on my own.”

  “She is good trouble,” Bela said laughing. “One of the funniest ladies I have ever met. And she is only twenty-one years old.”

  A young man entered the room, interrupting our much needed laugh.

  “Sir,” he said. “Would you like the list of visitors now?”

  “What visitors?” Bela asked, agitated.

  “The one’s who have knocked on your door all day, sir,” he replied.

  “Just give us a synopsis,” I said.

  Bela smiled and nodded his head.

  “A what, sir?” the young man asked.

  “You have a list of names?” Bela asked.

  “Well, yes, sir,” the boy answered. “Names and what they were inquiring about.”

  “Leave it here,” Bela said, “and continue.”

  The young man sat a notebook on the table and exited the room.

  “Look at all of this paper!” Bela said. “You see, if I read all of this, and replied, I would never get any work done!”

  I picked up the notebook and read down the list. The only names I recognized were Gray and Williams. The two investigators from the BOI.

  “The Flashbulb Men were here,” I said.

  “And they will no doubt be back,” Bela said.

  “You know, this isn’t going away,” I told Lugosi. “This investigation is going to go on for months.”

  “Until they subpoena me,” Bela replied, “I have nothing to say to them.”

  “We haven’t listened to the radio at all,” I said. “I am sure this is all everyone is talking about. Do you think we are doing the right thing by ignoring the messages? The visitors?”

  “You cannot ignore reality,” Bela said. “You can only deal with it on your own terms or it will drive you insane. I was in the Great War, you know. Sometimes the less you know, the better off you are.”

  “But most people want to know as much as they can,” I said.

  “Those people haven’t learned enough,” Bela answered. “You see my dear friend, once you have learned enough, then you have earned the privilege of ignoring everything else.”

  “Right,” I said.

  “When you have the truth,” Bela mused, “on something as big as this thing is, you will always have others who come in to try to distort it. They will question you and try to twist the story into what they want it to be.”

  “What do you think they want it to be?” I asked.

  “Whatever it is that best serves them,” he replied.

  “I still don’t understand,” I said. “Hearst alluded to this. He suggested I say nothing. Why would the Bureau of Investigation not want the truth? Isn’t that their job? To investigate and find out what really happened?”

  “Bay, are you really that naive?” Bela asked. “This is an international investigation. The United States government must do their own investigation, and share their findings with Germany. The vessel belonged to them and the accident occurred on American soil. Alvon was German. The BOI will have to be careful about blaming this tragedy on a German. And your version of events cannot be corroborated by anyone. So I would say, they will not include it in their findings.”

  “So Hearst was right in suggesting that I say nothing,” I said.

  “In my experience,” Lugosi answered, “Hearst is always right.”

  “Well, son of a bitch,” I said. “But if you think Hearst is always right, why did you defy him and leave the mansion? And why are you going against his wishes and going on to the set of White Zombie?”

  “I said he is always right,” Bela answered. “That doesn’t mean I always agree with him.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense, Bela,” I said.

  Lugosi looked off into space for a few seconds then smiled.

  “I guess you are right,” he said. “What is done is done, and you have told them what happened. But believe me, it will never come out in their report. And that is a good thing for you.”

  “I hope you are right,” I said. “But you know, Bela, the reason I came out here in the first place was to find this man. I will go on the set of this movie with you tomorrow, but after that, I need to start chasing the rabbit.”

  “Do you want my honest opinion?” Bela asked.

  “Yes,” I answered. “Of course, I do.”

  “This assignment, to find this man,” he said, “is a bit crazy. You have nothing to go on but a photograph. How could anyone expect you to retrieve a person in a place like Hollywood with so little to go on?”

  I knew Bela was right. It was crazy. And to take on such a task was way beyond my better judgment. I felt sick to my stomach, but decided to come clean with my friend and be honest.

  “I agreed to it because I fell head over heels for the lady who asked me,” I admitted. “And the money was good.”

  Bela nodded his head in the affirmative and cracked a slight smile.

  “I totally understand, Bay,” he said.

  “You do?” I asked.

  “Of course!” he replied. “What may seem crazy to others seems totally logical to us at times. You are doing what I am doing.”

  “Come again?” I asked.

  “I am going to work against the wishes of a lot of people in Hollywood, including my own agent,” he said. “And you, my dear friend, are chasing a rabbit that would appear to not be there at all.”

  “Yes,” I said. “I suppose I am.”

  “It is the same thing,” he continued. “You see, some of those Hollywood people think I am crazy, but they do not understand my motivation, my mission. Sometimes we have to do what we have to do.”

  “You are crazy,” I said. “If you support me in this search, my friend, then you are as crazy as I am!”

  “Let’s go make a toast to our both being crazy then!” Bela said.

  As we left the kitchen to go down the hallway, the assistants stopped us. “May we leave now?” one of them asked.

  “Yes,” Bela said. “And thank you. It is getting late and we will be retiring soon.”

  “I have one request,” I interjected.

  “Oh?” Bela said. “And
what is that?”

  “A delivery,” I answered.

  The assistants stood rigid and opened-eyed. They seemed to be in total shock.

  “What do you want delivered?” Lugosi asked. “We have just eaten.”

  “Not a delivery here,” I said. “I want a delivery to be made out.”

  “My God, man,” Bela said laughing, “what are you talking about?”

  “I want a dozen new sheets delivered to Jean Harlow’s house tonight along with a note,” I answered.

  Lugosi had to sit down because he was laughing so hard. The poor assistants were looking at us like we were crazy.

  “Where will we get sheets at this hour?” the young female assistant asked.

  Bela composed himself quickly and replied “Go to my linen closet and take all the sheets and deliver them to Harlow tonight. I will pay you handsomely.”

  I jotted a note to go along with the package.

  Dear Jean:

  Here are the sheets you requested. Sorry we could not be there in person, but we are springing Bonnie and Clyde at the moment. Good luck in your escape.

  Bay and Bela

  The assistants returned with a small stack of white sheets, looking confused.

  “I have another idea to go with this,” Bela said.

  “You don’t like the note?” I asked.

  “Oh, the note is great,” he replied. “But I have an addition to the package.”

  Lugosi produced a black felt marker. “We should sign one of the sheets!” he proclaimed.

  “You want to autograph a sheet?” I asked, not really understanding.

  “Yes!” he said. “And you should sign it too. We will ask Jean to sign it later!”

  “Why would anyone want my autograph?” I asked.

  “You are famous,” Bela said laughing.

  “No,” I replied. “I am not.”

  “Yes, you are, Bay,” Bela explained. “You are a famous writer. And now, you are a famous Graf survivor. Besides, it is just a joke for Jean. Just sign the damned thing!”