Just what is going on at the Brown Derby and other various Hollywood locations in 1939? Some of my fiends on Facebook at FlickChick's Movie Playground are taking turns writing a portion of the story. It's anybody's guess how it all will turn out. Entries are posted weekly.
Please join us on our little literary journey and see if we can guess how this puzzle will be solved!A Hollywood Mystery
Part 1
It was a busy Saturday night at the Brown Derby. Hedda held court in one booth, Louella in another (a respectable distance apart, of course). Current King of Hollywood Clark Gable and new bride Carole Lombard had their heads together like the lovebirds they were. Clark had just finished shooting the highly anticipated “Gone with the Wind” and was looking forward to spending some much needed alone-time with his wife before going off to the Atlanta premier. Clark’s co-star Vivien Leigh and her companion, Laurence Olivier, were deep in conversation in a dark corner and a bored Paulette Goddard toyed with her luscious diamond and emerald bracelet while husband Charlie Chaplin and best pal, and past King of Hollywood, Douglas Fairbanks reminisced about the old days. Doug was with new wife, Sylvia, who Charlie only tolerated. Paulette liked her just fine, but was hoping Doug’s ex, Mary Pickford, would stroll in with her pretty hubby, Buddy Rogers, just to add some spice to the evening. Money men, producers and directors chatted about their next projects and everyone eyed everyone else to make sure they missed nothing.
Sitting below the caricatures of himself and Groucho Marx were Cary Grant and his usual date, Phyllis Brooks. Miss Brooks was a pretty blonde and a good, undemanding companion – just what Cary needed after a busy year of filming “Gunga Din,” “Only Angels have Wings,” and “In Name Only.” They were enjoying their dinner of Spaghetti and veal cutlets when suddenly a waiter ran from the kitchen out onto the restaurant floor. His jacket was covered in blood and, before he could utter a word, he collapsed, dead, right at Louella Parson’s feet. All in attendance here horrified, Hedda was steamed, and it became quite clear that there would be no desert served that night. Management and wait staff attempted to escort everyone out of the restaurant. Startled stars wandered out onto North Vine Street, while Louella and Hedda had to be forcibly removed before the police came. Cary and Phyllis were among the amazed crowd that lingered in front of the restaurant. Cary thought it best to go home and leave things to the police, but Phyllis wanted to stay. “Why, Phyllis?” he asked. “What can we do except get in the way?” Phyllis started to speak, but her speech was muffled by the sobs she had been suppressing. “We can’t leave”, she managed, “not just yet. That waiter - I know him.”
To be continued…….
Submitted by Marsha Collock
Part 2
Phyllis looked up at Cary, her teary eyes held his gaze. "You see...I know him from...."
Just then a long black limousine stopped in front of them. A handsome chauffeur got out of the driver side and came around to open the passenger door. Another handsome man in a tuxedo came out and assisted Mae West out of the car. Her long satin gown was the color of moonlight in evening. "Hey Cary, what's going on? This place looks deader than a temperance meeting on St. Patrick's Day."
"A waiter was killed here tonight Mae, we were just leaving," he said, taking Phyllis's hand in his.
"Oh, I missed all the drama. Let's go to the Coconut Grove then," Mae said looking up at her date.
Out of the shadows a lone figure walked up to the two couples. He smelled of alcohol and was hiding something in his pocket. He stopped and swayed a little on his feet.
"Any a youse got a quarter for some coffee?" He slurred. Mae took a quarter out of her beaded hand bag and gave it to him. "Thanks lady." He handed her a folded note and said, "You'll want to read that, it's important" as he walked back into the shadows.
To be continued…….
Submitted by Tracey Witt
Part 3
And, earlier that day….
Charlie Chaplin steered his Pierce-Arrow south on Vine and turned left onto Sunset Boulevard. He swerved around the corner to view scores of hopeful actors lined up outside of Chaplin Studios. They were all there for the same purpose -- to audition for a handful of small parts in Chaplin’s new controversial film, The Great Dictator. The crowd of actors moved away from the studio gate and allowed the pale blue convertible to pass -- the aspirants all stretching to catch a glimpse of the great Chaplin. Once inside, Carl Voss waited patiently as other actor’s names were called before his. “Another cattle call. It never ends,” said Carl to a familiar looking mug in the next seat. There were so many actors, and so few roles. Chaplin, forever the perfectionist, took his time, hand selecting his choices for even the smallest of parts. The hours passed and still Carl waited. He knew he would soon have to leave if he was to be on time for work or he would pay the consequences.
Like other actors, Carl had to support himself between gigs. After all, he hadn’t had a paying part since his bit role in Little Miss Broadway, and that was months ago. The sweet Shirley Temple film had helped to launch Phyllis’ career to the next level. So much so, that she had moved on to a better social circle and left poor Carl flat -- brokenhearted and struggling. Phyllis really thought she was the cat’s meow since she caught Cary Grant’s eye. She was all dolled up and rubbing elbows with the right crowd now. Grant not only had the looks; he had deep pockets. Carl felt double crossed, but he still carried a torch for Phyllis and he wouldn’t give up. Carl felt sure that this new film would bring him a perfect opportunity and his life would take a new direction. If Chaplin only knew about his past he would know that Carl was made for this picture. So much was riding on his success. Carl just needed one good break so he would no longer have to wait tables at… The Brown Derby. Sure, it helped pay the bills, and it allowed him to network with some of Hollywood’s highest royalty, but Johnny, the abusive head waiter, seemed to have some kind of beef with Carl. It started over a waitress named Betty. Johnny had eyes for the little brunette tomato who liked to flirt with Carl even though she wasn’t Carl’s type. Carl had to get out of there. He wasn’t going to take it anymore. Just one lucky break was all he needed to steal the show. Then Phyllis would come back. He knew it.
The clock ticked. It was now 4:27. Carl would have to leave soon if he were to race the 2 blocks to The Derby and still sign in before 5:00. He desperately wanted a part in Chaplin’s new film. Carl opened his portfolio and removed a small piece of stationery. He carefully crafted his note and then made his way to the receptionist’s desk. “Hello, my name is Carl Voss. Miss West asked Mr. Chaplin to see me today,” he said to the efficient looking woman behind the desk. She looked back at him with an expression of disinterest. “Mr. Chaplin is currently engaged in the last audition of the day. You’ll have to come back tomorrow,” she said. “Please,” Carl urged, “I wonder if you would be so kind as to give Mr. Chaplin this note. Please!”
Carl ran out the door and hurried up Sunset Boulevard toward Vine. Then – a lucky break. A jalopy slowed and blasted the horn. “Hey, Hotshot! You headed to work? Hop in. I’ll give you a ride!” It was Carl’s old pal Alan – another aspiring actor/waiter. “Aw go chase yourself!” Carl called back laughing. Carl and Al were chums from way back. Phyllis had introduced them at an audition and they ended up sharing a bungalow for a while. Al was a swell guy even if he had done some time in the big house – something about getting even with a guy for not paying some gambling debts. Carl didn’t want anything to do with it. But hey, sometimes it’s good to have a pal who’s packing heat. Carl vaulted into the car and they sped toward the Derby making it to work with time to spare. To be continued…..
Submitted by Elaine Mosher
PART 4
Mae was not in the least bit surprised by the inebriated stranger who had staggered over to her as she stood outside The Brown Derby with her date, Roy, Cary Grant and his starlet of the month Phyllis Brooks. She was accustomed to having strangers approach her for an autograph, a hand out, even asking for a small part in one of her movies. She took the note with her gloved hand and stuffed it in her beaded purse which had just enough room in it for some lipstick and a gold compact. The purse had been a gift from W.C. Fields. He had it sent to Mae after the movie, "My Little Chickadee" had finished filming its last scene.![]()
It was that horrid man's attempt at an apology for the way she had been treated by Universal. The nerve of those big shots they had the gall to give both Mae and Fields equal screen writing credit for the movie. Everyone in Hollywood knew that Mae had written the original screenplay. Now after waiting for an hour in her limousine for traffic to clear and start moving all she wanted to do was go home...she had a note to read.
"Phyllis darling,""Calm yourself" said Cary with concern in his voice. "What did you mean when you said," "I know that waiter from"... after what seemed like an eternity they had finally arrived at her modest apartment in Burbank. Phyll, as Cary liked to call her, nervously paced the living room floor while smoking a cigarette. "He is, I mean, he used to be my husband." she sobbed.
Instead of going straight to The Brown Derby from the auditions, Al had made a stop to talk to an "acquaintance" of his. Carl, was impatiently waiting in the car for Al to finish talking to the beefy guy in the pin stripe suit. The guy’s name was Mick De La Rosa. Carl had seen him hanging around the back entrance of The Brown Derby. Waiters had set up a couple of tables and chairs outside and would take their breaks in the smelly alley. Al was a swell guy but the crowd he hung out with made Carl’s skin crawl. After waiting for 30 minutes Carl jumped out of the car and hurriedly made his way to The Brown Derby...
To be continued……
Submitted by Tina CosioPart 5Solitude. Sometimes all a girl wants is some alone time.
Mae West had sent her insistent beau of the evening off to his own devices. Having slipped into a comfortable, yet showy kimono Mae surveyed her luxurious art deco living room with satisfaction. She had worked long and hard for her success, and she enjoyed it. The bear rug, three paneled mirror and meticulously cared for porcelain knick-knacks were signs that she had made it. The small beaded bag she had taken with her for the evening's entertainment lay on the silken upholstered divan. Inside was the start of something big. She could sense it. She was never wrong. Slowly she poured herself a glass of perrie in a Waterford cut glass and circled the bag as if circling an admiring swain. Anticipation was often the greatest part of pleasure. Barely an hour had passed since the scene out front of the Brown Derby. The well-dressed coterie Hollywood's elite shell-shocked and wondering how to react in front of the press and the police with no script to follow and no director to provide motivation. If only she could have gotten inside to see the body. Surely the radio would have the story by now. The top-of-the-line Crosley model 639M had a console to match Mae's luxurious taste and worked at the push of a button with no muss or fuss.
"It appears that the murdered man was not an employee of the restaurant after all, despite his attire. According to police sources no identification was found on the body. Witnesses are being unco-operative at the present time. Sources close to the scene have disclosed a possible gangland connection to the incident. We will update you with further news should it become available."
Mae turned the radio off and stretched out her full 5' frame on the antique lounge. Another sip from the chilled glass and now to see what Henry had to say for himself. She was the only one of the group, too spellbound by the trouble to recognize dear old H.B. Warner on one of his toots. Mae shook her head. Warner was getting lots of work these days, why would he risk it in such a way?
The note was slightly crumpled from having been quickly tossed into the crowded bag. The writing, however, showed an educated and practiced hand. It read ...
"When is a marriage not really a marriage."
More hastily scrawled at the bottom, as if an afterthought:
"Someone likes to gamble."
Mae smiled softly and hummed a little tune. A phony marriage? Gamblers? Wouldn't the police like to know? Well maybe she'd tell them, but maybe first she'd do the Torchy Blane act and bring the cops the solution to this crime on a silver platter. There wasn't anyone in this town she didn't know and nothing Mae West couldn't do. Plus, she had just the outfit for a lady detective!
To be continued……
Submitted by Patricia Nolan-HallPart 6:Cary cradled Phyll in his arms. "Is there more that you want to tell me?" Cary gently asked her.
Phyllis wanted to forget everything she had ever known about her ex-husband. The memory of the days of being in love with him and living the good life had been erased by the events preceding the end of their marriage. He had become involved with unsavory characters who were a threat to her career as well as her life. She did not want to reveal his real identity, but she did feel some obligation to tell Cary more. After all, they had just seen him murdered. And, Phyllis had as many questions as answers.
"I'm not sure what to tell you," she began. "You see, my own life is in danger if I tell all that I know. Bill, my ex, was known by the elite of the Hollywood community early in his career; he was much older than I and knew some of the most elite stars in Hollywood. I don't know much about his life before me. But his star had faded, and many of his so-called friends had forgotten him. He was devastated that he could no longer get work in Hollywood and began to drink heavily and gamble. His drinking led to...well, let's just say, I divorced him so that I could go on with my life. I suppose I should have kept in touch with him, but I didn't, and now ... well, now I may not ever know what really happened to him...or who he was involved with. Oh, Cary, what should I do?"
To be continued...
Submitted by Linda Thacker
Part 7:
Cary was reeling. In the space of just under an hour he had witnessed a man dying, learned that the dead waiter was a former movie star and that Phyllis was once married to him. And, to make matters worse, she felt her life was in danger. He wanted to help, really he did, but he was not thinking clearly because earlier that night….
Cary had arranged to meet Phyllis at the Brown Derby at 7. Normally he would have done the gentlemanly thing and called for her, but both of them were meeting directly after a long day before the cameras and meeting at the Derby for dinner seemed easier. Cary arrived at about 6:30. Minutes later an assembled crowd of notable guests entered into the Brown Derby. Among these were John Barrymore, Ethel Barrymore and Lionel Barrymore. John, needing a pre-dinner alcoholic pick-me-up, saw Cary and asked him to join him at the bar. Cary was thrilled – he admired John Barrymore so much, and soon found himself engaged in a vodka-fueled conversation. John was only getting started, but after 2 drinks, Cary was feeling a bit buzzed. While he and John dished the Hollywood dirt, Cary noticed that many of the restaurants patrons were tying one on. In particular, he noticed Mae West’s old pal, H.B. Warner getting ready to go on one of his famous toots.
Back in the main lounge at the Brown Derby, Ethel and Lionel became concerned over John’s disappearance to the bar. They thought he might have forgotten where their table was in the large restaurant, but after a half hour of waiting, John was nowhere to be found. Ethel began to worry about her little brother. "Oh no, I hope he's alright" she said, but Lionel knew brother Jack was either drunk or flirting with some starlet or both. Forty minutes had passed and John still had not returned. Ethel spied Phyllis Brooks sitting by herself, patiently waiting for her date. "I must go and see where John is" said a worried Ethel. “Stay here, “said Lionel, “I’ll get him – as usual.” Lionel scanned every section of the Brown Derby for John and Cary, but they were nowhere to be found. Lionel was now starting to worry. Just as he was about to head back to his table, he heard the sound of laughter coming from an alley behind the building. Making his way back there he found John, Cary and assorted waiters and other types engaged in a game of dice. Upon Lionel’s appearance, John quickly hid the open bottle of vodka behind him. Cary suddenly remembered Phyllis and dashed past the growling Lionel, feeling mighty unsteady on his feet. But he was sure steadier than John Barrymore, who after standing up and bowing to his brother, promptly passed out on the pavement.
Phyllis was annoyed at having been kept waiting, but soon all of that was forgotten when Carl Voss a.k.a. Bill Cassidy dropped dead before the appetizers were ordered.
To be continued….
Submitted by Crystal Kalyana Pacey and Marsha Collock
