A Ghost at Stallion's Gate (10 page)

“And how is it connected to Marla Devereux?” I asked.

“Remember the magician named Seamus I told you about? Well, he knew about Marla Devereux and the odd way she vanished. Turns out that many years ago he tried investigating her case. Seamus used many of his contacts in entertainment and through snooping around discovered that this theater, the one we are going to, is where she last played and was last seen alive. According to Seamus, the theater manager was the last person to see her alive. On that night, actually the wee hours of the next morning, Marla had told the manager to go on to his office, that she needed extra time to get out of her costume and makeup. The manager went to his office and two hours later, about three in the morning, he went to Marla’s dressing room and she was gone. He assumed she had left without interrupting him and thought nothing of it. He closed and locked the theater. He discovered what happened to Marla the next afternoon when the police came calling on him.”

“Hmm, and the manager was never suspected of wrong doing?” I asked.

“According to Seamus, the manager was not a suspect. He was cleared right away and all the people questioned agreed that the manager would be the last person of earth to want to harm Marla, she was a headliner at the theater and was extremely popular with patrons, as well as insiders in the theater group,” Alex explained.

“I wonder why she needed extra time for changing out of her stage clothes?” I questioned out loud.

“Don’t know, but that might be worth looking into,” Alex said. “Oh, I meant to tell you, we are meeting with a member of the conservancy group, it’s someone you know, Gracie Jordan.”

Alex naming Gracie as the person we were ghost hunting with was a surprise, but the surprise was short lived. Within seconds we pulled into a parking lot off the corner of Third
and Broadway streets and there beside the parking spot stood Gracie. She appeared as bubbly as when I last saw her.

We exited the car, Alex locked it up and I greeted Gracie. Though, all I needed to say was hello, and after that, Gracie led the conversation and the way.

“Okay, let’s walk around the corner and up a few blocks. It’s too bad we couldn’t find a better parking place. But, you see, this part of the city is pretty crammed and parking is minimal. At least this parking lot has good public access and is well lit, even into the late hours of the night.” Gracie smiled and then took off walking.

Alex and I nodded at Gracie’s backside. She walked a brisk lead in front of us. We passed by odd named shops that gave me the surreal feeling I was no longer in California, or even North America. I noted two shops of peculiar interest. One shop sign said
Botanicals
in Spanish and the shop next to it paid homage to
Santa Muerte
. In the front window was a full size, standing skeleton adorned in a colorful silk robe. In one hand, the skeleton held a scythe and in the other hand, it, she, he, or whatever it was, held a small world globe. This caught me off guard, I lost my rhythm, took a misstep and bumped into Alex. He looked at the Santa Muerte skeleton and said he’d explain later what it was about. Thankfully we were walking briskly away from it. I made a promise to myself to suggest that we walk on the opposite side of the street on our return to the parking lot.

We walked two more blocks and then Gracie came to a sudden halt halfway up the block. She stopped and looked up at the theater’s faded facade.

I gazed up at the theater and imagined that at one time the Regency was a good example of its name. But sad to say that the sight that met my eyes was one of tattered and gloomy elegance of what used to be an elegant French Baroque exterior. The once beautiful vaudeville palace was no more than a withered phantom of an opera house.

Gracie saw the doubt on my face and said, “It was absolutely magnificent in its time, and it will be again. I just know it will. Let’s go inside and you’ll get a better idea. Parts of the interior remain very beautiful.” Gracie stepped in front of us and walked over to the theater’s locked double doors. 

Alex took my right hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. He leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Think of this as an adventure for future story telling.”

Chapter 18

We walked in with flashlights blazing and in the dreary darkness of the main foyer, our lights illuminated a shadowy interior filled with the glamour of a bygone era. Gracie told us to stay put while she walked over to an office off the side corridor to turn on lights.

I used these few minutes to scope out the lobby and foyer. I focused my flashlight on the walls, while Alex used his flashlight to inspect the ceiling. I turned to Alex and said, “I love the color scheme of periwinkle blue wallpaper and ivory trim, I was expecting ritzy reds and lots of gold.”

“Yeah, I agree. The decor is far more understated and elegant than what I expected. And the ceiling is in better condition than what I thought it would be. You know, we’ll probably be up there.”

“Up where?” I asked.

“Up on the second and third stories. From the floor plan Gracie gave me, it shows that this entire building is the theater,” Alex answered.

This was news to me. “Isn’t that the way it always is with these large theaters?” I asked.

“No. At least half of the time, the third story was rented out as offices or residential apartments. It wasn’t the least unusual for a booking agent to have his office in a theater building. Ditto for others in the entertainment industry at that time. Set decorators, costumes designers and stage managers often lived in the apartments above the theater they worked at,” Alex explained. Then the lights came on and Gracie reappeared.

Gracie suggested we do a quick check of our equipment. We spent a few minutes checking our voice recorders, digital cameras, cell phones, and made sure we had extra batteries handy. Alex held up the hand-drawn floor plans Gracie had given him and asked her, “Where to?”

“First up is the main floor of the auditorium, we can go up to the balcony seats later. Not all the lights in the auditorium are working yet. Floor lights along the aisles work and the sconces along the walls, but not the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. And some of the stage lights are working. It’s stadium seating, so be aware that we enter on a raised elevation and as we walk closer to the stage the elevation is lower. Also, the carpet has been removed. New carpet won’t be installed until all repairs are completed. The bare wood floors have been smoothed o
ut. Before that was done the flooring was so uneven, it was like trying to walk on cobblestone, I tripped a couple of times and once I fell hard and broke a toe. That was last year.”

“Are you okay, now?” I asked.

“Oh, yeah, I bounce back from injuries pretty quickly,” Grace answered.

I couldn’t help but to smile at her use of the word bounce. I thought to myself, I bet Gracie can bounce back quickly from just about any obstacle.

We followed Gracie over to the main entrance of the auditorium, Alex stepped up in front of her and opened the double doors and then said, “After you.”

The auditorium had fared well over the century. The periwinkle blue and ivory theme was enhanced in wall decorations that illustrated cameo styled scenes from classic literature. To the right I recognized scenes from Shakespearean plays and to the left were scenes from famous Italian and French operas. Looking up, the darkened crystal chandeliers loomed over us. I saw crystal prisms and beads flutter and then momentarily twinkle w
ith opalescent light. I asked Gracie, “Is there air movement, any kind of a air flow system working right now?”

“No, none at all and we cannot get the air conditioning and vents working until repairs are done to the electrical system in the ceiling and in the soffit. And we do not have windows to open to help air out the place. There are a few windows along the back at second and third story levels. But we have had them boarded up from the inside for safety precautions. I’m sorry if it seems stuffy in here. We encounter warm stuffy air or very cold drafts, that come from out of nowhere,” Gracie explained and then she asked me, “Why do you ask? Did you feel something or see something?”

I hesitated, not sure what to reveal and then said, “No, I didn’t feel a thing. I was just curious about the air vents and lighting up in the ceiling.”

Gracie looked up at the ceiling and chandeliers. “Well, sorry to say, at this time there are no air vents or lighting up there. In fact, all the electrical wiring has been completely removed. And, what few vents there are were cleaned of all debris, vacated and then securely closed to prevent rodents from living in them, again.”  With this last bit of news, Gracie frowned, looked back up at the ceiling and then said, “I promise, nothing is going to light up, up there or scurry about.”

Alex gave me a knowing look. I had not fooled him and I bet he observed what I had seen, a flicker of light and movement from the two chandeliers directly above our heads. But Gracie was satisfied with my answer and for now, this is all that mattered. We continued walking slowly toward the stage.

We stopped in front of the stage, which was elevated about ten feet above us, Grace explained, “This stage is sixty feet wide and almost thirty feet deep. When it was converted to use as a film theater in the late teens, the addition of a movie screen took away four feet of its useable depth for theater productions. However, the Regency remained one of the most popular venues for film and stage productions.” Gracie turned from the stage and looked out at the auditorium. “In all, the theater seated 300 patrons in the auditorium and then each of the six balcony boxes held an additional eight seats.”

Alex grasped this overview better than I did. As a magician he was familiar with theater sets and design. He was anxious to get started and wasted no time asking, “Gracie, where do we start?”

“I’d like to stay here next to the stage with my voice
recorder on and take a few photos. Would you and Shannon go up into the center aisle and take seats three quarters of the way toward the back. Supposedly, patrons’ voices can be heard in that general area. I thought I’d ask a few questions out loud and if you two would sit still and not say anything, not even a sound, we might get a valid EVP session. Oh, and keep your recorders on, too.”

Whew, was I glad she didn’t want to send me off by myself. “Sure, sounds good to me,” I volunteered. Alex and I took seats in the center aisle, three quarters of the way toward the back. Alex waved his flashlight to let Gracie know we were settled in.

Gracie raised her voice and said, “Okay, turn off your flashlights and turn on your recorders. You’ll be able to hear me ask questions, just please remember not to utter a sound.”

In unison we answered yes, and that was the last peep Gracie heard from us. 

Chapter 19

The time passed slowly and I was unnerved to just sit in silence. I kept peeking at my watch and realized that after twenty minutes I was just about to go stir crazy. Alex didn’t seem to mind at all. He carefully listened to Gracie ask methodical questions and scrutinized his voice recorder to make sure it was running. I, on the other hand, set my recorder on my lap and was content to not mind it at all.

Alex settled in some more and placed his right arm over the back of my seat. He lightly tapped me on my right shoulder. I looked at him and nodded okay. Having him next to me was a sense of relief. I seriously considered poking him in the ribs as pay back for dragging me along on this wild ghost hunt. But fearing he would sound out at a rib poke, I decide not too. Just at that moment, Gracie announced that we should try another tactic.

“Maybe you two should come back down here. Let’s go to the dressing rooms on the second level.”

“Hey, I’m all for that,” I called out.

“Me too,” agreed Alex. He stood and reached for my hand.

That was when I screamed, “Let me go!”

“I’m not holding onto you,” Alex said.

“Alex, this isn’t funny,” I defended my actions. “You just tried to pull me out of my seat,” I accused.

“I did not,” Alex claimed.

By now, Gracie was up at our aisle and standing next to Alex. She reached over to me and put her hand on my shoulder. “Shannon, I was watching, Alex did not go near you. He had turned away from you and had his flashlight pointed to the end of the aisle, he was lighting the way for you.”

Alex turned to me and said, “Shannon, exactly what did you experience?”

“I’ll tell you, but I want to get out of here, right now. And, I’m not walking back on the same side of the street.”

Within ten minutes Alex drove up to the street curb outside in front of theater. I took the passenger seat and Gracie hopped into the back.

“We can go back to my apartment, if you like?” she suggested.

We dropped Gracie off to get her car and then followed her over to her home. Once inside she put on a pot of coffee. Alex and I sat together on the sofa. Gracie brought coffee to us and then she sat in a chair, directly across from us.

I sipped the warm brew and looked around Gracie’s apartment, which was one side of a condo building, a townhouse actually. It was tastefully decorated in Ikea fashion, Danish Modern with California style accents here and there of potted plants and colorful pillows. In the corner stood a beige carpeted cat tree.