Read Online Evil That Men Do by Hugh Pentecost - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Hugh Pentecost
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would be to frame her for Slade’s murder, wouldn’t it? So I’m not running. I’m going to get her out of this if I can, and then I’m going to amputate her from Emlyn Teague for the rest of time—if I can.”
I looked at my empty martini glass. “What did you really want of me, Craig, when you asked me to join you?”
“It’s not complicated,” he said. “I have no way of reaching Doris to say that I’m here and ready to help in any way I can. You can get to her, or get a message to her. I ask for that.”
“Why not,” I said.
“And perhaps you can get me a room in this gilded cage? I don’t want to be any further from her than I can help.”
“Let’s go down to the reception desk,” I said.
I wasn’t quite sure about Gary Craig. My instinct told me he was a right guy. My professional caution told me I could have been sold a bill of goods. Chambrun had warned me that no one connected with Doris Standing could be trusted.
But I had seen her cry. If they’d turned Naylor, the assistant D.A., loose on her, she was having a bad time right about now. I wondered how T.J. Madison, the fullback, would carry the ball in this league.
Karl Nevers was on the reception desk when I got there. There wasn’t a vacancy in the place except for the house seats—the name we have for a few rooms held open by the management for special emergencies. Only Chambrun could release them and I didn’t feel this was the moment to ask him for favors. There are twin beds in the bedroom of my apartment on the fourth floor. On impulse I asked Craig if he’d like to share the place with me till something opened up.
“I’d be eternally grateful,” he said.
While Craig was signing in so that he’d get any messages or phone calls that might come for him, Nevers slid a reservation card across the desk to me.
“One for you,” he said.
The reservation read: “Miss Veronica Trask and secretary; Suite 18B, March 15.”
“Red carpet,” Nevers said.
Veronica Trask! She’d been the star of the first motion picture I’d ever seen—when I was six years old. Veronica Trask! One of the great ones in the days when Hollywood was Hollywood. Great in the days of the silents, greater at the advent of the talkies. Veronica Trask, who had held her own with Garbo, and Shearer, and the young Crawford; who had played with John Gilbert, and Barrymore, and Leslie Howard and the other great male stars of her day. I had been madly, madly in love with her at the age of ten. I had hated Lewis Stone who had played the suave villain who wanted to marry her in my first movie.
“I thought she was dead,” I said. “I haven’t heard of her for years.”
“She retired about twenty years ago. According to the secretary who made the reservation, this is her first time out of seclusion since 1947.”
“She’ll be mobbed by fans who still love her,” I said. “Including me! I suppose she’ll want to keep her presence here quiet.”
“On the contrary,” Nevers said. “I was told we could notify the press.”
“Veronica Trask!” I said, sounding very juvenile.
“What about her?” Craig asked, at my elbow.
“She arrives tomorrow,” I said.
“Coming here?” he sounded interested. I guessed everybody in New York over thirty would be interested. “A very great lady,” Craig said.
“You know her?”
“No,” he said, “but I’ve always wished I did. We’ve forgotten about her kind of glamor in this a-go-go age.”
Five
I GAVE CRAIG AN extra key to my rooms on the fourth floor. He had no luggage, but he announced he’d go back to his apartment for clothes after I’d gotten his message to Doris Standing. The back issues of The Times and the Examiner had been delivered to my quarters, and I left Craig there, going through them, chewing on his pipe.
It was twenty minutes past seven when I arrived in Chambrun’s office. I knew that his dinner would be served to him in ten minutes and that nothing short of an earthquake
I looked at my empty martini glass. “What did you really want of me, Craig, when you asked me to join you?”
“It’s not complicated,” he said. “I have no way of reaching Doris to say that I’m here and ready to help in any way I can. You can get to her, or get a message to her. I ask for that.”
“Why not,” I said.
“And perhaps you can get me a room in this gilded cage? I don’t want to be any further from her than I can help.”
“Let’s go down to the reception desk,” I said.
I wasn’t quite sure about Gary Craig. My instinct told me he was a right guy. My professional caution told me I could have been sold a bill of goods. Chambrun had warned me that no one connected with Doris Standing could be trusted.
But I had seen her cry. If they’d turned Naylor, the assistant D.A., loose on her, she was having a bad time right about now. I wondered how T.J. Madison, the fullback, would carry the ball in this league.
Karl Nevers was on the reception desk when I got there. There wasn’t a vacancy in the place except for the house seats—the name we have for a few rooms held open by the management for special emergencies. Only Chambrun could release them and I didn’t feel this was the moment to ask him for favors. There are twin beds in the bedroom of my apartment on the fourth floor. On impulse I asked Craig if he’d like to share the place with me till something opened up.
“I’d be eternally grateful,” he said.
While Craig was signing in so that he’d get any messages or phone calls that might come for him, Nevers slid a reservation card across the desk to me.
“One for you,” he said.
The reservation read: “Miss Veronica Trask and secretary; Suite 18B, March 15.”
“Red carpet,” Nevers said.
Veronica Trask! She’d been the star of the first motion picture I’d ever seen—when I was six years old. Veronica Trask! One of the great ones in the days when Hollywood was Hollywood. Great in the days of the silents, greater at the advent of the talkies. Veronica Trask, who had held her own with Garbo, and Shearer, and the young Crawford; who had played with John Gilbert, and Barrymore, and Leslie Howard and the other great male stars of her day. I had been madly, madly in love with her at the age of ten. I had hated Lewis Stone who had played the suave villain who wanted to marry her in my first movie.
“I thought she was dead,” I said. “I haven’t heard of her for years.”
“She retired about twenty years ago. According to the secretary who made the reservation, this is her first time out of seclusion since 1947.”
“She’ll be mobbed by fans who still love her,” I said. “Including me! I suppose she’ll want to keep her presence here quiet.”
“On the contrary,” Nevers said. “I was told we could notify the press.”
“Veronica Trask!” I said, sounding very juvenile.
“What about her?” Craig asked, at my elbow.
“She arrives tomorrow,” I said.
“Coming here?” he sounded interested. I guessed everybody in New York over thirty would be interested. “A very great lady,” Craig said.
“You know her?”
“No,” he said, “but I’ve always wished I did. We’ve forgotten about her kind of glamor in this a-go-go age.”
Five
I GAVE CRAIG AN extra key to my rooms on the fourth floor. He had no luggage, but he announced he’d go back to his apartment for clothes after I’d gotten his message to Doris Standing. The back issues of The Times and the Examiner had been delivered to my quarters, and I left Craig there, going through them, chewing on his pipe.
It was twenty minutes past seven when I arrived in Chambrun’s office. I knew that his dinner would be served to him in ten minutes and that nothing short of an earthquake
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