A Ghost at Stallion's Gate (7 page)

2. Is he overly sensitive to Marla’s racial color and ethnic background? If so, why?

3. Darren never actually stated why he is so very interested in Marla.

4. I need to find a source that can tell me if Marla ever posed for advertisements in magazines and papers, especially as it might relate to fashion trends and cosmetics. Maybe follow up on the clue of red hair.

Rats! I wished I had thought to bring my laptop computer with me. Here I am sitting in the film capitol of the world and I know there must be some archive or museum that has a collection related to fashions and cosmetics. I tapped my pen on the notepad, the afternoon was running away from me and I really wanted to use the last few hours to get answers. As a last resort, I called Alex.

“Alex, it’s me, Shannon. Do you know of a museum or archive here in the Los Angeles area that has a collection of magazine advertisements related to old Hollywood?”

I could tell I caught him off guard. “There’s the Fashion Institute in Los Angeles, they might. Also, I’m pretty sure that the Los Angeles Public Library has a collection like that. I’d try them first. Sorry I can’t be of more help. If it can wait until tomorrow, I’ll get a hold of business contacts and ask around,” Alex offered.

“Hmm, for right now, I think I’ll go see what the library has. Alex, don’t go to any trouble on this, okay?”

He hesitated. I could hear the wheels spinning. “Shannon, if I can help, then it is no trouble. Just say so. Look if you are heading over to the library, at the very least I will call ahead and see if a friend of mine who works there can help. When you get there ask for Susan Leach.”

“That’s great. Thanks Alex.”

“Shannon? Are you okay?”

“Sure. Alex, I can’t talk right now, I want to get to the library as soon as possible. Later, I’ll give you a call to catch up on things, Okay?” I hung up without hearing his reply.

The waiter gave me easy directions to the library. I got there in fifteen minutes, parked and went inside and up some stairs to the reception desk.

An elderly man with a halo of stark white curly hair offered to help.

“My name is Shannon Delaney. May I speak with Susan Leach?” I asked.

The gentlemen made a phone call, hung up and then said to me, “Have a seat over there if you like, Miss Leach will be here momentarily.”

I remained standing. Within a few minutes Susan approached me from behind, I heard her footsteps on the tile floor and turned just has she said, “Miss Delaney, I’m Susan Leach. I just received a call from Alex Blackthorne. I’m delighted to meet you. What archives are you interested in?”

Susan Leach was stunningly beautiful. Tall, slim, willowy in her stature. Shoulder length blonde hair neatly combed into a pageboy, her bright blue eyes sparkled with intelligence and confidence. She looked like a leading lady actress. Had she missed her calling? I wondered. I briefly explained to her what kind of advertisements I was looking for. She said she knew exactly where to look.

We walked down a corridor to a network of small rooms that were behind the scene from the general public. When we came to a door with a sign that read Digital Archives, Library Personnel Only, Susan turned to me and said, “We’ve recently begun photocopying our magazine collection and transferring it to digital files. The decades from 1900 through the 1930s were recently completed. At present we are working on the 1940s.”

We entered a room that had a set of computer tables, six in a row. We were the only people in the room. Susan walked over to two of the tables and said “Shannon, please have a seat.”

Susan sat at the computer next to me. She turned to me and explained, “I have only a few minutes, but that’s enough time to show you how the files work. Alex said you were computer savvy and he assured me you’d be fine own your own. I hope that’s okay?”

I agreed with her and in the course of five minutes Susan gave me a concise tutorial on using the files. Her instructions were very helpful.

“Thanks so very much. Susan, I know I called in a favor to Alex, and I sincerely appreciate you taking time out from your schedule to help me.”

Susan stood up and then said, “My pleasure. And if you need further assistance, my office is just across the hall. Please stop in when you are done. If I’m not in my office, my secretary will close up this room after you leave. We close in about two hours.”

She left and I dug into the digital files. Susan had given me some search tips and I utilized them one by one. First up, I searched for hair dye and hair coloring ads.

Fifteen minutes into my search I located three images of magazine advertisements that looked like Marla Devereux. All three had to do with hair coloring by a company called Empress Tatiana. The catch phrase for the hair dye was, Hair Coloring of Radiant Beauty. Each color had an exotic name. Black was called Magic Night. Brown was Luscious Velvet and Auburn came in three shades, from dark to light: Glorious Garnet, Ravishing Ruby and Temptress Titan. Marla Devereux was the model for Ravishing Ruby in two of the ads and in the third ad she was the model for Temptress Titan. The titan color was bright red, and I couldn’t help but to wonder if it was
too red
.

I knew that the cartoonish color of the Temptress Titan dye could be from the age of the paper and the ink that was used back then. Over time some ink colors fade and are overcome by stronger hues. It could be that yellow ink used in the ad, meant to bring out brightness, may have eaten up the darker red dyes. The result was the carrot red color that now showed in the ad. Possibly, the Temptress Titan color was much darker and more auburn when the magazine was new.

Still, was this what Rory meant by too red? I couldn’t shake Rory’s comment about
too red
. Did his criticism apply to Marla’s hair color, too? And was my reference to the color being carrot red, a direct influence from Rory and his love of carrots? Good grief, I was letting a ghost horse influence my research. I chuckled at this thought and carried on with my next search term: Marla Devereux. Only one result popped up, and it wasn’t an ad. But it was a gold mine.

The article’s headline claimed: Actress Marla Devereux Wins in Court Case Against Empress Tatiana for Contract Fraud.

Chapter 12

The news article was dated December 22, 1925, about two weeks before Marla vanished. According to this article the court case had finally come to an end after many months of heated arguments. The judge and jury ruled in favor of Marla. Empress Tatiana, otherwise known by her legal name of Gertrude  Straub was ordered to pay Marla a settlement of twenty thousand dollars. The money was to be paid no later than in one month’s time. That timeline meant that Marla might never have received her money. Or did she? Could it be that Marla did receive her settlement and with cash in hand decided to put Hollywood in her review mirror?

I got out my cell phone and opened up the money exchange rate application. Typing in the year of 1925, it did a quick calculation of cost of living between then and now and based on the cost of living from 1925 to present time, Marla’s settlement is roughly equal to a quarter of a million dollars. My mind raced with possibilities. Marla could have easily chosen to disappear and begin her life anew somewhere else.
Why not?
I reasoned. Maybe Marla’s bright dream of becoming the next Hollywood film goddess was darkened by the reality that the competition was just too strong. Then again, that much money might have been more cash than what Gertrude Straub, a.k.a. Empress Tatiana, could pay without bankrupting her company. Was the money worth murdering for? In reality, was it Marla who paid the greatest price, with her life?

A glance at my watch told me I was running out of time. Just twenty minutes to go. I did another quick search in the files to see if there were news reports from earlier proceedings in the case. This magazine article did not give details pertinent to Marla’s original issue of contract fraud. No luck. I knew that what I really needed to do was to check a newspaper archive. And I could do that on my computer back at my cottage. I quickly saved my research results to my portable flash drive. I turned off the computer, tidied the desk and slipped out the door. When I looked in at Susan’s office, only her secretary was there. I gave her my thanks and asked that she let Susan know I was very grateful. Just as I exited the library my cell phone rang.

“Hello.”

“Shannon, did you get the access to the files you need?” Alex asked.

“Alex, I wasn’t expecting another call from you, so soon. But to answer your question, yes, I did. Thank you very much. Your friend Susan was very helpful.” I had wanted to say girlfriend, just to bait him, but in a last second of sanity, I thought better of it.

“Good, I’m glad she could see you. Uh, Shannon, what I really wanted to ask is if I could be of help. It seems to me you are doing much more with this assignment than writing a publicity brochure.”

Alex was fishing and he was not being very subtle in doing so. Without so much has casting out a line, I had hooked him.

“Alex, I do not want to inconvenience you, you’re way down there in San Diego. Really, what I have going on is outside the publicity brochure assignment for Stallion’s Gate and besides, my sidetrack of research is just a small curiosity of sorts,” I teased.

“You mean a mystery. I know you Shannon. You get drawn into these cold cases and cannot let them go. And it’s no trouble for me to help. I’m not in San Diego; I’m in Los Angeles. I came up for a board meeting at the Magic Castle and I’ll be here for a week, at least. So, let’s not beat around the bush, can I help or not?”

“You’ve been snooping on me,” I accused him.

“No. I have not,” Alex retorted.

“Promise?” I asked.

“Shannon, stop this silliness. Have dinner with me, tonight. Say, about seven, I’ll pick you up at the Rose Victorian.”

I paused for a moment, measuring my reply. “Okay, but you must promise not to needle me about my welfare and my personal life and all the other questions people are tiptoeing around me with and talking about in hushed tones.”

“Of course. Shannon, have I ever treated you like that?”

His remark brought me to my senses. Why, of course not. Alex Blackthorne is the one person in my life who has never been condescending to me. “Okay, it’s a date, at seven tonight. But, Alex I have one word to say to you.”

“And that is?” Alex asked.

“Italian.”

“As you wish.”

Now I really needed to get back to the cottage. I wanted to get on the Internet and do some research about Marla’s court case before Alex showed up.

Chapter 13

Bella Vita was exactly the kind of Italian restaurant I had in mind when Alex invited me to dinner. He came through, as always, with the perfect place for dinner.

Bella Vita was quintessentially Italian without the commercialized color scheme that runs rampant in many Italian eateries. The painted mural that ran along the longest side of the restaurant’s wall was a serene scene of a countryside village in Italy; a few small vineyards spotted the landscape here and there. The opposing wall was red brick, typical of many of the buildings in the historic district of Pasadena. We had parked around the corner just off Colorado Boulevard and strolled the few blocks to Bella Vita. Along the way Alex acted as my personal tour guide and pointed out some of Pasadena’s historic landmarks. The neighborhood was quaint and very well kept.

Alex had called in a reservation. Our table was the perfect combination of privacy with a view outside to the busy foot traffic on the street. Inside we were away from the noise of the dinner crowds that flocked to this section of the historic downtown district. The ambiance put me in such a good mood that I insisted Alex order for me. It was a gesture I rarely ever allow another person to do. To be sure, he took notice.

“To what do I owe the honor of being your personal culinary expert?” Alex’s manner was coy, and yet his direct look into my eyes told me he was serious.

“I’m enchanted by your choice of a restaurant. So, I figured that since we have eaten out at Italian restaurants before, many times before, that you cannot possibly have forgotten my preferences,” I replied.

He unfolded his napkin, as I did mine, and then he looked at me. I met his gaze straight on. We had played this game of cat and mouse many times before and I knew not to give in to Alex’s charm.

“So, in other words, you trust me.” Alex said this with such calm that I realized my trust in him was never an issue.

“Well, in the spirit of a certain someone, whom we have in common, Eric has said you always come through, so if for no other reason, yes, in most matters I have impeccable trust in you. Why not?”

His reaction was not what I expected. He raised his glass of wine, which of course prompted me to do the same, and then he said, “To Bella Vita, a beautiful restaurant, and to you, a beautiful woman, and my wish of a beautiful life for you.”

I was touched; most men I knew would have substituted the word girl for woman. “Thank you.”

At that moment our dinner was served. Alex had ordered Chicken Cacciatore, a favorite of mine.

Our dinner conversation was light, mostly just chitchat about catching up on things with the exception that neither one of us brought up Zach’s funeral. I was grateful for this intentional omission. I learned that Alex would be in town for at least one week and his commitment to the board of directors at the Magic Castle allowed him a lot of free time. The timing was perfect, also because as a professor at the university in San Diego, Alex was on summer break. No need for him to go back to San Diego for at least another month.