She went over to the woman and was delighted and astonished to see that it was none other than Madame Irma. The elderly singer had taken on a few more pounds but she looked much like her old self.
“Madame Irma!” Nita cried, hugging her. “Why didn’t you let me know you were on the set?”
The big woman was pleased. “I know my place,” she said. “It’s not like the old days. You’re a star now.”
“I haven’t changed a bit,” she said. “Nor have you! How long have you been in Hollywood?”
“Almost a year,” Madame Irma said.
“You know Marty was killed,” Nita told her old friend.
“It was in
Billboard
,” the veteran singer said, naming the national theatrical weekly. “Poor lad!”
“And the others?” Nita asked. “What about them?”
Madame Irma chuckled. “Pontiface stopped his drinking and was taken back by the brothers. They allowed him to bring Percy with him and they’re now both at a monastery somewhere in Michigan!”
“And Belle?”
“She’s singing and dancing in Earl Carroll Revues,” Madame Irma said. “I expect you’ll see her out here one day.”
“And the magician? He was best man when I married Marty.”
“Still playing the small time the last I heard of him,” the big woman said. “He was never very good.”
“Where is Sherman Kress?”
Madame Irma rolled her eyes Heavenwards. “Up there — I hope. He died during a Saturday night performance in Omaha. That’s when the unit broke up and I decided to try my luck here.”
“Poor man!”
“He had his good points,” the big woman agreed. “It was a heart attack and all over in a few minutes. I was with him at the end.”
“Have you had any real acting parts since you’ve been here?”
“Not yet. I’ve been lucky to get extra work,” Madame Irma said. “There are a lot of people looking for jobs.”
“But you are especially talented,” Nita insisted. “I’m going to speak to Mr. Meyers about you.”
True to her word, Nita saw Meyers in his office the next day and told him, “Madame Irma is an old friend of mine and has lots of experience and talent. I’ve seen her work magic with the worst kind of audiences.”
“So what do you want?” Lew Meyers groaned. “As soon as you’re stars, all you people get to be headaches!”
“I’m trying to help you. This woman is great,” she said. “I’ve been talking to the writers on the set and they can use her for a small scene and develop it if we have your permission. When you see her work you’ll know what I mean.”
He waved her off. “All right! Tell them it’s okay! I have troubles enough as it is! Did you know that Barbara Lamont is moving to Paramount?”
She smiled cynically at Meyers. “And you’re letting her go because you know she’s passed her peak at the box-office.”
He chuckled. “Nita, you have too good a head to be an actress! You oughta be my assistant!”
“One more thing,” she said. “Until you make a decision about giving Madame Irma a contract for character parts, I’d like to have her used as an extra on all my films.”
“I’ll see to it,” Lew Meyers said. “But don’t ask me for the studio. I’m leaving it to my sons!”
Once Nita had established all this she arranged with the writers to build up Madame Irma’s scene. Then she sought out the old woman on the set. “I’m sure you’ll get a contract for character roles after Lew Meyers sees you,” she promised.
Madame Irma shook her head. “I can’t believe it!”
“Where are you living?” she asked the veteran actress.
“I have a room downtown. It’s not much but I’m not used to any frills,” Madame Irma said.
“We must find you a better place,” said Nita.
Only a day later, Richard Wright came to Nita with what he declared was the chance of a lifetime.
“There’s a Malibu Beach house available, just down the road from where Jack and Joyce Steel are,” he said with more excitement than she had ever seen in him. “It’s a fine property with a main house and a guest house fifty yeards or so away. The grounds are gorgeous and if we take it right away we can get it at a rock bottom price.”
“Do I need it?” she wanted to know.
Richard grimaced. “How many stars life in Gardenia Court, darling?”
“Can I afford it?”
“You can,” he said. “I have it all worked out. And I can help you.”
“How?”
“I’ll share the purhcase price. I want to buy the cottage for myself. It will ease the burden on you financially and you don’t really need the guest house. The main building will house a dozen guests.”
“You really think I should take it?”
“At the price it is being offered furnished, you can’t lose,” her agent said.
“I’ll speak to Lew Meyers about it,” she said.
Lew Meyers surprised her by approving. “Real estate is always a good investment in Hollywood. This place hasn’t grown at all by Eastern standards. Those who get in early will profit. The studio will advance you cash for a down payment if you need it and take the mortgage.”
She shook her head. “That won’t be necessary. Richard says I have enough. And he wants to share in the purchase by buying the guest cottage.”
“That’s a mistake!” the producer said sharply.
“What can I do? He found the place.”
Lew Meyers leaned across his desk and said, “He’s no good. One day you’ll want to get rid of him. You shouldn’t tie yourself to him further by having him share a property with you.”
“I’m in the middle of a picture,” she lamented. “I don’t want to be put through a quarrel.”
Meyers sighed. “All right. If you have to go along with him, do this. Include a clause which gives you the right to buy back the property at the price he paid for it plus any improvements at any time you wish.”
“Do you think he’ll agree to that?”
“Try him,” he said.
After some argument, Richard Wright agreed. Nita visited the Spanish style house with its fine furnishings and liked it. By the end of the week the contract was signed. By the middle of the week she had moved in, and Richard had taken over the guest house.
It was then that Nita sought out Madame Irma on the set and told her, “I’ve just moved to Malibu Beach. I’ve bought a place there.”
Madame Irma looked pleased. “You deserve it. I’ve seen how hard you’re working here. And you’re really good. They all think so.”
“I’ve hired a housekeeper,” Nita went on. “And I want you to come and live with me and be my companion in exchange for your accomodation.”
The old woman gasped. “I couldn’t do that!”
“Why not?”
“For one thing, I’m not grand enough for Malibu Beach!”
“The young girl you looked after long ago is grand enough for it and so are you. I need you,” Nita told her.
“You really mean that?”
“I do,” she said. “And I’m certain in a short while you’re going to be a big name out here. I think the part we’ve created for you in this picture shows you at your best.”
Madame Irma laughed. “I’m playing a broken-down star reduced to playing in small time vaudeville. It’s the real me!”
The character woman’s moving into the house at Malibu Beach made life much more pleasant for Nita. They drove to work together in the morning and they talked a good deal when they came home. Also the Madame Irma gave Nita diction lessons and advice about her singing, in anticipation that one day the movies would learn to talk.
Nita was especially grateful for the woman’s presence since the moment Richard Wright took over the guest house he became much more difficult. He had guests coming and going at the place at all hours of the night, and she knew the cottage was often the scene of orgies in which slender, young males from the extra ranks played prominent roles.
Madame Irma sniffed her displeasure at his actions. “You may have to get rid of him,” she warned Nita. “The way he’s acting can only lead to trouble.”
“I had no idea he’d be so brazen.”
“I don’t like him at all,” the old woman said, confirming what everyone else was telling her.
But Nita was working desperately hard and was in no mood for a legal and personal battle. She knew Richard Wright was doing too well as her agent to give up without making it as hard for her as he could. On the strength of his connection with her he had picked up several other big names as clients. It was his personal life style which she objected to, but he became coldly uncommunicative whenever she tried to broach the subject.
“Dancing Girl” was completed and Lew Meyers moved her to the second, a comedy of marriage in which she was able to get Madame Irma a small role with several good scenes as a society matron. In the middle of the filming of the marriage comedy a private showing was held of the roughly cut version of “Dancing Girl.”
Nita, Madame Irma and Richard Wright were all in attendance at the screening. Lew Meyers was there along with all the studio top brass. The reaction to the story was good, Nita’s performance was praised, but the big excitement of the evening was Madame Irma. In her several scenes the weary-faced big woman literally stole the show. There was spontaneous applause from all over the crowded screening room.
Lew Meyers came to them after the screening and told Nita, “You were right again, baby.” To Madame Irma he added, “Come to my office tomorrow morning at ten. I want to talk to you about a contract.”
There were tears in Madame Irma’s eyes as she promised, “I’ll be there!”
“You know, you could be another Marie Dressier,” Lew Meyers informed her before he rejoined his associates.
Richard Wright offered the old woman one of his urbane smiles. “I’d better go with you, darling. We don’t want Father Meyers to cheat you.”
“I’ll take my chances,” Madame Irma said at once. “I’m not important enought to need an agent.” Despite Richard’s protests she was staunch in her decision.
The next morning Nita waited tensely as she went about working on the set with David Torrence and Jack Steel, who was rapidly being regarded as her idea leading man. She tried to keep her mind on her work but she couldn’t help wondering how Madame Irma was faring.
It was close to noon during a break while Nita was in her dressing room having coffee when Madame Irma arrived.
Nita jumped up and asked, “Well?”
The old woman chuckled. “I have it. A contract for seven years with options along the way.”
“You’re wonderful!” Nita said hugging her. “You’ll be a star one day.”
“Only if pictures start to talk,” the actress said. “I’d have more to offer then.”
“But your pantomime and comedy timing is excellent,” Nita insisted.
Madame Irma said, “The main thing is that now I can pay you for my board and lodging!”
“There’s no need!”
“What else have I to do with the money?” Madame Irma wanted to know.
They had coffee together and then the old woman left to shop as she wasn’t in the scenes which were being shot that day. Nita felt tremendously happy at having been able to help her friend and went out to begin the afternoon’s scenes with more than usual enthusiasm.
The stern David Torrence, playing her father-in-law in the film, was already on the set waiting for her. The elegant old Scotchman gave her one of his sour smiles and said, “I’ve seldom seen you so glowing.”
“I’ve had a good day,” she said.
He raised his eyebrows. “You’re probably one of the few women in Hollywood who has.”
She stared at him as the crew worked at lighting the scene for the waiting cameramen. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“Another terrible scandal has broken,” he said. “And the papers say that a number of famous stars may be involved.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Someone murdered William Desmond Taylor,” David Torrence said, a grim look on his patrician face. “It may be the worst Hollywood scandal since the Arbuckle affair.”
Nita gasped. “I knew him!”
“I wouldn’t admit it if I were you,” the character actor cautioned. “The news is spreading like wildfire. Everyone in the studio is talking about it.”
Still shocked, she asked, “Where did it happen?”
“In his house. Someone entered his Westlake place in the night and shot him. A servant found him and sounded the alarm.”
“Why would anyone want to kill him?”
The elderly actor gave her a wise look. “I can think of a few jealous husbands who could be guilty. And some jealous women as well. Taylor also was mixed up with drugs and homosexuals.”
“He was mysterious and rather unpleasant,” she recalled.
“You describe him well,” David Torrence said.
The lights were ready and they went on with the scene but Nita had a hard time concentrating. She couldn’t forget her meetings with the suave, menacing director, especially the time he had made his way to the cabin of Gallegher’s yacht and tried to force her to go to bed with him. She recalled that Phillip Watters had violently disliked Taylor and his crowd, though Richard Wright had been friendly with the slain man.
She finished her scenes for the day and was in her dressing room changing into her street clothes when a distraught Richard Wright arrived.
He burst in, the tension showing on his face, and said, “You’ve heard about Taylor?”
“Yes,” she said, turning to face him.
He removed his hat and sank limply into the dressing room’s single easy chair. He said, “There’s hell to pay! I can tell you that.”
“Do the police know who did it?”
“They don’t seem to,” he said sourly. “And the reporters are making a sideshow of it.”
“I can imagine.”
Richard suddenly gave her a penetrating glance. “Did you, by any chance, write him any letters?”
“Never.”
“Good. You’re one of the lucky ones.”
“In what way?”
He explained, “A lot of the women he was involved with sent him incriminating letters. As soon as word reached Mary Miles Minter and Mabel Normand, they were there searching for their letters.”
“Did they succeed before the police intervened?” Nita asked.
“Yes, but they were still there when the police and press arrived. Mabel Normand had retrieved some letters and Mary Miles Minter was stumbling around in a stupor.”
“How dreadful!” Nita exclaimed.
“You’re sure there’s nothing to connect you with Taylor?” Richard probed.