Confessions of a Hollywood Agent Read online

  “How did you, a movie actress, become the secretary of Marsh International? Wasn’t that an unusual departure for a screen star to be involved in hotel and gambling casinos?”

  “No. They’re Hollywood people in business in Las Vegas. Tony Martin was a part owner of the Flamingo. Frank Sinatra has a piece of the Sands and there’re others. It’s a business deal for me,” she answered.

  “You didn’t answer my question fully. How did you become secretary for Marsh International Gaming?”

  “Mr. Morry Marsh, who I was dating, asked me if I would like to be secretary,” she said.

  “Did he tell you what you had to do to be a secretary?”

  “He said I would have to attend board meetings once a month and be responsible for the minutes. That was about it. It didn’t seem like much extra work for me.”

  “Miss Winters, to your knowledge, do you know if the stock of Marsh International Gaming was being manipulated?”

  “No, not to my knowledge.”

  “Did Mr. Marsh or Mr. Wise discuss with you how Marsh International Gaming was being sold?”

  “Yes. They told me the stock was being sold through brokers around the country.”

  “Do you own stock in Marsh International?”

  “Yes,” she answered.

  “How many shares do you have?”

  “I have a few shares. How many is my business.”

  “Okay, then what price did you pay for your stock, Miss Winters?” he asked. There was a long pause.

  “I’ll tell what price you paid.” He held up a piece of paper. “You paid thirty-five dollars per share. The day the stock was suspended it was at one hundred and thirty-five dollars. Now, Miss Winters, don’t you think it was highly irregular that you bought the stock at thirty-five dollars and in six months’ time it was selling for one hundred and thirty-five dollars? That’s one hundred dollars per share in profits. Isn’t that right, Miss Winters?”

  “I never question a profit, Mr. Simon.”

  “I see.” He lowered his head.

  “I have no more questions,” said Mr. Simon as he went back to his desk. The jury foreman peered to the other jurors at the table.

  “Does anyone else have any questions for Miss Winters?”

  A young man dressed in an open shirt asked, “How old are you, Miss Winters?”

  Dorothy was surprised by the question and gave him one of her movie star smiles. “On that question I will take the fifth, if you don’t mind,” she said, smiling at the young man. The rest of the jurors smiled and coughed at her answer. Dorothy knew then she had made a good impression on the jury.

  “You are excused, Miss Winters.” Dorothy got up from the witness chair and walked out of the courtroom to the corridor where Nathan was waiting.

  “How did it go in there?” he asked.

  “Grueling.”

  Matt Donnelly walked into hearing Room and came out a few minutes later.

  “I asked for a dismissal. There’s no evidence the government produced to back up the indictment. They’re voting now. You can leave.

  I’ll call you later with the verdict.”

  “We’ll wait, Matt,” said Nathan. They sat down and waited and remained quiet. Finally the door opened and a man emerged.

  “Mr. Donnelly, Would you come in?” he asked. Matt Donnelly followed the man back into the room. Dorothy crossed her fingers. She peered at Nathan who remained expressionless. A few tense minutes passed and the door opened again and Donnelly walked out towards them with a smile.

  “They voted for a dismissal,” he said. Dorothy ran to him and gave him a kiss. She glanced at Nathan who managed a smile.

  “Isn’t he wonderful? He got us off! Now I can get my life back in order.” Dorothy kissed Donnelly again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  When Clint got back to the hotel there was a message for him to call Gale. Dorothy was using her old name in Washington.

  “How did it go? he asked into the phone.

  “They dismissed the charges. They couldn’t prove a thing. And I’m in love with my lawyer. He’s wonderful. So kind and sincere. He gave me the confidence I needed to face everyone.”

  “What happened at the White House?” she asked.

  “We’re invited back tonight to be entertained. I mentioned you were in town. I think that’s why we were asked.”

  “Will his wife be there?”

  “I doubt it. I think this little party is for us. We can get better acquainted.”

  “You give me the feeling you’re setting me up on a big platter of power.”

  “I never thought in those terms, but I like the dramatics of you being with the mob in the daytime and seeing the President in the evening. Even Mata Hari couldn’t work her charms to get to that echelon.”

  “What time do I have to be ready?”

  “Be down in the lobby at eight-thirty.”

  Everybody arrived on time. The girls were in the lobby before 8:30.

  Clint checked their wardrobe. He didn’t like Dawn’s outfit. She wore black leather with a short mini-skirt and her hair in a thick braid. He sent her back upstairs to change into something less obvious.

  Dorothy had on a movie star, figure-clinging green dress, which exposed her cleavage, and some simple jewelry. She wore her hair down around her shoulders. Tana dressed in a slinky black dress and looked exotic.

  Clint walked outside and spotted the White House car by its government license, an unmarked Buick. He walked over to the driver and told him to wait for his party. A few minutes later the three girls came out of the hotel and Clint waved them to the car.

  As they got in he said,” “No one is to talk about tonight. We’re a very special group with privileges. If anything gets out about our rendezvous I’ll personally take it upon myself to expose that person to whoever I’ll have to. I’m sure you understand. Now let’s get on to a good time.”

  They arrived at the White House, not in the manner they had arrived earlier. They were driven around to a back entrance and ushered by an aide into a hall and up some steps to the second floor. They had passed the Secret Service men in doing so. The aide opened a door that led into a large room, which had a blazing fire going. The room was like a combination den and library. The President stood talking to a Latin man dressed elegantly but causally.

  The President came to them as they entered. He wore a blue cashmere sweater that covered a white shirt and dark gray slacks. He showed his famous grin as he took Dorothy’s hand. He grabbed Tana’s hand at the same time and acknowledged Clint. The Latin man walked over to them and the President introduced him as Porfirio Rubirosa. He flashed a big toothy smile and introduced himself to Dawn, who tried to keep from swooning.

  Dorothy knew what she was there for. She used a superior poise when she felt uncomfortable. She was meant for the President. A neat little package that Clint had wrapped up for him. She had to admit he was attractive. She asked herself, What’s it going to hurt if I screw him? He looks like he wants me. Rubirosa, Porfirio Rubirosa. He’s the Latin playboy who marries those rich women. What an odd choice for a friend. The President must be a playboy himself.

  “Mr. President,” she said.

  The President interrupted her. “Call me Jack. I was pleased when I heard you were in Washington and would be here tonight. What brought you to the Capital?” he asked.

  “A play. I’m thinking of doing a play here. I wanted to see what the theater felt like before I made a commitment.”

  “It would be great to have an actress of your caliber working in Washington. You can count on me for opening night. That is, if I’m in town.”

  “How sweet of you to say that. You’re a nice man. I’m thrilled you’re in this place. Our country needed a man like you. You make us feel secure and to know there’s someone so concerned and real sitting in the White House is a joy to me.”

  “I hope the American people feel as you do. It’s been rough lately.

  Castro’s ma
king my life complicated. It’s ironic to think he is only ninety miles off our shores with his kind of government, and the sad part it looks like he’s there to stay.”

  Tana and Dawn were having drinks made by Rubirosa, and getting comfortable. Snacks sat on a table near the bar.

  “Do you girls know how to merengue?” asked Rubirosa. “It’s a dance in my country. Tana and Dawn glanced at each other and then back at Rubirosa.

  “No,” said Tana. “Are you going to show us how?” she asked.

  “I brought the music.” He went to the phonograph and put on a Latin recording. It had an upbeat sound. He took Tana’s hand to dance.

  Tana danced well. She took to his lead as he moved her around the room with the movement of his hips keeping time to the beat of the sound. Clint got Dawn to dance following Rubirosa’s movements. It didn’t take too long before they were on to the dance, laughing, pushing and swaying their bodies together to the rhythm.

  “This is a sexy dance, Porfirio, and you’re such a good teacher,” said Tana.

  “Thank you. The name is Rubi. You’re a beautiful dancer yourself,” said Rubirosa as they continued to move around the room.

  JFK peered at Dorothy with a look in his eye.

  “Would you like to dance with me?” asked Dorothy.

  “I’d like to, but I’ve had surgery on my back and I don’t think that dance they’re doing would help it much.” He took her hand and held it.

  She peered back into his clear blue Irish eyes. He put his hand on her knee. She could feel the heat rising in her body.

  “I know this is a big house, but don’t you worry your wife might walk in here?” asked Dorothy.

  “For your information, there’re one hundred and thirty-two rooms in the White House and I’ve been in but a few of them. As far as my wife is concerned, she went to New York late today. So you can relax.

  Come! I’m going to take you to see one of those one hundred and thirty two rooms. They got up from their chairs. JFK took Clint aside.

  “Dorothy and I are going down the hall to one of the bedrooms. Tell Tana to join us there. It’s two doors down on the right,” he said as he and Dorothy left the room quietly.

  Clint nodded. He cut in on Rubi who was still dancing with Tana and they changed partners. Rubi danced with Dawn.

  “Are you having a good time?” Clint asked Tana.

  “Look at this girl, dahlin. Does she look like she’s having a good time? Dahlin, this girl is having a ball.” They turned and swirled to the beat of music.

  “The President wants you to join him and Dorothy in the other room down the hall.”

  Tana looked at Clint with a certain amount of surprise. “If he wants that, tell him only if it’s in Lincoln’s bed.”

  “I can’t do that. You’re going have to tell him,” said Clint.

  “Where did they go?” asked Tana.

  “They went out that way two doors down on the right.” Clint pointed to the door at the other end of the room.

  Tana went to a chair and picked up her bag. She turned and gave Clint a tiny wave and walked toward the door leaving the room with a little sway in her hips.

  Three of them were left in the room. Rubi moved Dawn around the room. Dawn laughed and flirted with him as the danced to the beat. They were drinking Remy Martin brandy and were drunk. Rubi was fascinated with Dawn’s thick braid. He kept looking at it and touching it. Dawn was annoyed, but said nothing. As they danced by the desk near a window Rubi reached down and picked up a large pair of scissors that was used to open mail. Dawn’s back was turned so she didn’t see the scissors in his hand. He reached up behind her and grabbed a hold of her braid and cut it off.

  Dawn stopped, realizing what he had done.

  “YOU BASTARD, What did you do that for?” she yelled into his face. Rubi stood in front of her with a half smile and Dawn’s hair in his hand.

  “I couldn’t help myself,” he said.

  “You’re a sick, spoiled, son-of-a-bitch. Give me back my hair.” She grabbed her cut-off braid from him and went to a chair and picked up Her purse.

  “Clint, do you believe what this asshole did to me? I’m leaving.

  And you, greaseball, are going to hear from my lawyer.” She waved her cut-off braid in Rubirosa’s face.

  Clint walked up to Rubi and said, “What you did is inexcusable. It’s not funny. And you’re not cute. Get ahold of me tomorrow at the Shoreham before this incident gets out of hand. Give the President our regrets for leaving. You can tell him what you have to, I’m sure it won’t be the truth.” He and Dawn left the room.

  “Dawn, what a jerk! You’re going to be amazed at what kind of money you’ll be able to get for that phony piece of hair,” said Clint as they went to the waiting car.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  The ringing of the phone in his room awakened Clint.

  “Clint Nation?” asked a Latin-accented male voice.

  “Yes.”

  “Porfirio Rubirosa, here. About last night. I displayed bad manners, but I’m willing to pay, if nothing is said. I have a check for ten thousand dollars to cover Miss, Miss, the lady’s hair.”

  “Summers, Dawn Summers. I’ll see if she’ll accept. Can I get back to you?”

  “I’m out all day. I’ll call you about four o clock. I trust you’ll take care of this delicate matter for me.” He hung up.

  Clint called Tana Williams’s room.

  “Hello,” Tana answered in a sleepy voice.

  “It’s Clint. What happened last night?”

  “I’m in love. Did you know the poor man sleeps on a board?” said Tana.

  “No.”

  “We wondered what happened to you when we came back?”

  “What did Rubirosa say?”

  “He said Dawn got sick and you escorted her to the hotel.”

  “How did Dorothy react when you showed up in the room?”

  “She wasn’t happy. She didn’t want to share Jack, but who would?

  He’s the President, dahlin.”

  “It’s Jack now, huh? I have your tickets for tonight’s benefit. Your day is free.”

  “I’m calling my friend Adam Clayton Powell. Maybe he’ll take me to lunch.”

  “Not a word about last night. No gossip about the President. I’ll know where it came from. Have fun.”

  Clint hung up and dialed Dawn’s room. The phone awakened her.

  “It’s Clint. Your friend called, the Caribbean playboy. He has a check for ten thousand,” said Clint.

  “Do you think it’s enough? “ she asked.

  “No. He’ll pay twenty-five thousand since you and me are splitting fifty-fifty,” said Clint.

  “I didn’t know I had a partner,” said Dawn.

  “Dawn, I never do anything for nothing. You’re lucky to have me negotiate.”

  “Do you think he’ll pay that much?”

  “Of course he will. He’s rich. He got millions out of the women he married. He’s an old whore. I should ask for fifty thousand, but that’s greedy. He knows we could turn this incident into a scandal. He won’t jeopardize his position with the President. He’ll pay cash too. I’ll see you later with the money,” said Clint and hung up the phone. The phone rang again. It was Marty.

  “Where in the fuck were you last night?”

  “The girls and I got invited to a party by another Democrat. I was sure you wouldn’t go, so I didn’t ask.”

  “I sat all night by myself going crazy. I can’t find my wife. She’s still not home. I even called her mother and she said she hasn’t heard from her, but I don’t believe her. I think I heard my kid in the background. They’re doing a conspiracy on me. It’s driving me nuts. What do you suppose she’s up to? I bet she’s with that Verano guy. I finally got it out of the maid that she left the house right after I did. She’s making my life miserable.”

  “She’ll turn up and have a reasonable explanation.”

  “You’re always saying that. You act l
ike you’re protecting her,” said Marty.

  Clint wanted to get off the subject. “The producer called, he wants you about eight-thirty.”

  “Where is the benefit?”

  “The Armory.”

  “What are you doing today?”

  “I thought I’d go to see the Smithsonian and the Capitol, to watch Congress.”

  “They’re a racetrack in Maryland. You wanna go?”

  “I’d rather not. I’d rather catch some culture of DC. Bye.”

  Clint made a move to get up, but decided to stay in bed.

  He reached and pick up the phone to call his office in Hollywood.

  His secretary gave him his messages. Ben Law had called him from Carmel. He remembered Ben. He was a publicist and called him back.

  “Hi, Ben. What are you doing in Carmel?”

  “I’m on a picture. Whatever this is worth. Marty Fallon’s wife’s here with a Cuban. He’s on assignment for some Latin newspapers covering the film. They were holding hands and kissing in a restaurant I ate at last night.”

  “Thanks for the tip, Ben. I owe you one. Bye.” Clint thought as he hung up, if Marty knew what was going on, he wouldn’t go to Europe to make the picture. I better keep this information to myself.

  Clint didn’t leave his room; he stayed in bed. He got up to meet Porfirio Rubirosa at five o’clock. He negotiated and collected twenty thousand dollars from him. Dawn told him she was going to buy herself a mink coat and a yellow Cadillac convertible with her half.

  The benefit went off as scheduled. Marty had them hysterical with his comedy. He was been able to get to a racetrack in Maryland and had won a few races. The winners put him in a good mood that night. All of Washington came to honor the USO.

  The next morning everyone got off to their destinations. Marty went on to Europe to do the movie. Clint, Tana, and Dawn left Washington and went back to Los Angeles on the military airplane.

  When Clint arrived home there was a message that Marge North had died. Services were to be held that afternoon in Beverly Hills. Clint quickly got himself organized. He called Tana Williams and told her to meet him at the funeral home off Santa Monica Boulevard. When he arrived the services had began. He walked in the chapel and sat with Tana Williams