The Hiltons: The True Story of an American Dynasty (14 page)

After a few moments of self-pity, as Zsa Zsa would recall it, a burning, searing rage began to envelop her. She walked into the dining room where she knew she and her husband would later be eating dinner and, taking a look around, carefully selected an expensive crystal lamp she knew was a particular favorite of his. He often spoke of having purchased it abroad, saying that it had cost “a small fortune” but was well worth the price. She picked it up, considered it, and raised it above her head. Then, with all of her might, she hurled it to the floor. It broke into a million pieces, the small pieces of crystal cascading every which way. Hearing the cacophony, a battalion of alarmed servants led by Inger, Zsa Zsa’s personal maid, appeared from seemingly out of nowhere. “Leave it right there,” Zsa Zsa commanded Inger, pointing down at the broken lamp. “Don’t you or any of the rest of you dare touch it.
You just leave it right there
.”

That evening, when Conrad returned home from a busy day at the office, Zsa Zsa didn’t mention Father Kelly’s visit. Conrad didn’t mention it either. Instead, she brought him a dry martini, greeted him with a kiss on the cheek, and then went about her business as he went about his.

Later that night, Conrad casually walked into the dining room for dinner and was immediately stunned by the sight of the broken lamp on the floor, all of its little pieces scattered everywhere. Standing over the mess, he seemed frozen in place, his mind likely racing. But rather than say a word about it, he simply stepped over it and went to his chair on one side of the long, elaborately appointed dinner table. Soon after, Zsa Zsa walked into the room, fully made up and dressed to the nines in a bouffant black-and-white taffeta gown. She too gingerly stepped over the tangle of cords, metal, and crystal. Casually, she took her own seat at the other end of the table. The Hiltons then ate their meal, each eyeing the other, each not uttering a single word. After Wilson the majordomo expeditiously cleared away the plates, Zsa Zsa stood up and walked out of the room, her head held high, leaving Conrad alone, no doubt wondering what she was thinking… and probably suspecting that it wasn’t good.

Up in Flames

I
t was Sunday, March 19, 1944, when the Nazis invaded Hungary. Zsa Zsa was frantic with worry. She may have been self-involved and frivolous and not the kind of woman Conrad Hilton ever should have married, but she did have serious concern for her beloved family members. She hadn’t heard from her parents or her sister in weeks, and she began to fear the worst. It was at this time that a series of life-altering events began to unfold for both spouses.

Because Zsa Zsa had contacts in the diplomatic corps in Washington who she felt might be able to assist her in getting her family out of Hungary, she asked Conrad if he would finance a trip to the nation’s capital for her. He decided not to turn her down on a matter so urgent. Therefore, Zsa Zsa and Eva were off to Washington, where they would spend the next two months attempting to network with any congressman or diplomat who might be able to assist them in helping their family escape.

Meanwhile, in the summer of 1944, while Zsa Zsa was in Washington and Conrad in Texas on business—his sons Nicky and Barron were at military school—a devastating fire broke out at the Hilton mansion. Unfortunately, it was Zsa Zsa’s wing that suffered the most damage—all of her precious photo albums, letters from her parents, and other prized possessions were lost to the blaze. Even more upsetting, the family’s German police dog, Ranger, with whom Zsa Zsa had become particularly close, perished in the fire. “We will rebuild, of course,” Conrad told reporters. “But much of what has been lost, my wife will never be able to replace.” Understandably, Zsa Zsa took the tragedy to heart, finding symbolism in that it had been primarily her wing that had been destroyed, and not the rest of the house. In her mind, the fire seemed like nothing if not a metaphor for her marriage, as if her life with Conrad was going up in flames.

When it seemed matters couldn’t get much worse for her, Zsa Zsa’s luck finally took a turn for the better when she and Eva were introduced to Secretary of State Cordell Hull. Hull promised that he would do what he could to help get Zsa Zsa’s family out of Hungary. He then urged her and Eva to go to New York to rest, telling them they had done all they could in Washington. In truth, he was alarmed by Zsa Zsa’s appearance; she looked unwell and on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Zsa Zsa called Conrad to tell him that she was going to be in New York, and asked that he meet her there so that they could discuss their marriage. He agreed.

He Never Should Have Done It

U
nfortunately for Conrad Hilton, as soon as he arrived in New York, he came down with the flu. Because he was so sick, he was forced to stay in a suite at the Plaza with Zsa Zsa, something he hadn’t planned on doing. It was this twist of fate that would precipitate a final showdown between the unhappy couple.

While he was sick in bed, Conrad was forced to sit and watch as Zsa Zsa spent most of her day dressing and undressing for the day’s big events—namely breakfast, then lunch, then tea, followed by what Conrad would derisively call “the main event,” dinner. He couldn’t believe how much time she spent putting on makeup, styling her hair, and trying on one glamorous outfit after another, then switching back and forth between all sorts of expensive jewelry, for the look most appropriate for each meal. “It took me by surprise to once again discover that beauty can be a full-time affair,” he later recalled. He said that all of her many beautifying processes rather reminded him “of the rite of an ancient Aztec temple.” With nothing else to do with his time, watching Zsa Zsa indulge herself became almost an obsession. It was like witnessing a bad train accident; he couldn’t quite take his eyes off it.

Perhaps Zsa Zsa’s self-indulgent behavior stung Conrad all the more because he had just recently established the Conrad N. Hilton Foundation, through which his charitable and philanthropic endeavors would now be channeled. A great deal of time and discussion was going into making decisions as to which charities would benefit from Hilton’s largesse—and meanwhile, here was his wife, totally involved in herself and in her self-indulgent lifestyle. His hardworking mother, Mary, also came to mind, and how completely different she was from Zsa Zsa in values and priorities. Comparing the two women just made Zsa Zsa seem all the more superficial and silly. It appeared to him that his wife knew the cost of everything but the value of nothing. Eva had lately been suggesting that Zsa Zsa might try a career in show business, and Conrad had to agree with her. At least then maybe she could earn her own money and he might have some respect for her. As it stood now, he pretty much had no respect for her at all. She knew it, too.

Because there was a party on their schedule that was to be thrown in honor of the governor of New York, Thomas E. Dewey, the Hiltons had a choice to make: either stay at the hotel and try to tolerate each other, or go to the party and surround themselves with plenty of distraction. Even though he was sick, Conrad felt the party would be their best option. Of course, Zsa Zsa was game. She could always put aside any stress for a good party; plus, as she recalled it, she viewed the event as an opportunity to once again show Conrad that she could be an asset to him. She was a gorgeous woman at his side, a beautiful wife who was the envy of all of his colleagues; surely that had to count for something. And if there was one thing she knew how to do, it was to be social.

Conrad washed his face, donned a white shirt and jacket, black bow tie and pants, and was ready in about fifteen minutes. He then spent the next two hours waiting for Zsa Zsa to make her entrance.

Zsa Zsa finally emerged from the bedroom, a stunning vision in passionate red. She wore her slinky, formfitting crimson beaded gown—slit way up one side to show ample leg—as if she was born to wear it, as if there was no reason for it ever to have been made if not to adorn her curvaceous body. She also wore a small diamond tiara in her hair, which was no longer red but dyed blonde now. A pair of silvery starburst rhinestone earrings and matching brooch given to her by Conrad as a gift completed the perfect picture of 1940s glamour. Her hard work done, Zsa Zsa proudly stood before her husband for final inspection. “So, what do you
sink
?” she asked, spinning around a couple of times for him.

Conrad sized her up from head to toe. “I’m just wondering how much this has cost me,” he said.

Zsa Zsa was speechless. She had spent hours getting ready for him, and
that
was his response? It made her angry, and he knew it. “Oh, you look beautiful, my dear,” Conrad said, brushing her concerns aside. “But you always look beautiful. Can we please just go now?”

The evening went downhill from there.

The party at the Waldorf-Astoria was packed with New York socialites and a sprinkling of celebrities such as the actress Loretta Young and Zsa Zsa’s sister Eva. However, it was Zsa Zsa Gabor Hilton who stood out from the rest in a gown that could not be overlooked. Conrad kept to himself, clearly not well, speaking to a few people. Because he had unknotted his tie, he seemed uncharacteristically disheveled, even in his natty white jacket. For her part, Zsa Zsa played the role of wealthy socialite wife to the hilt. It’s what she did best, after all, her entire identity wrapped up in the being of Mrs. Conrad Hilton. “Pink champagne,” she was heard saying, “we need much more pink champagne! Everyone drink up!”

“It’s a great party, isn’t it?” Eva asked her sister at one point. “Just think of all of the
money
in this room.”

Actually, the thought had already crossed Zsa Zsa’s mind. Looking around at all the well-heeled people in her midst, she wondered aloud if one could ever truly be rich enough. “And then I think to myself, no, you can
never
be rich enough,
ever
,” she said, laughing. “
Sanks
God there’s enough money to go around for
everyone
in America!
Sanks
God!”

Though Zsa Zsa did everything she could think of to cover for the fact that her husband was not at his best, Conrad didn’t seem to appreciate it. Mostly he acted as if she was on his nerves. “What’s the best scotch you have?” he asked a waiter, seeming distracted.

As soon as they got back to their suite, the Hiltons, predictably enough, had a terrible row. “
I tried
,” Zsa Zsa told Conrad, according to what she would recall. She told him that she had done her part; she had been a good wife and partner at his side. Everyone loved her, she said. Everyone, that is, but Conrad. “You were the
only
one at that party who was not in love with me,” she charged. He apologized, saying he wasn’t feeling well. He left the room, changed out of his suit, and, according to her memory, returned wearing a short white terrycloth robe. He then sat down before her and began to smoke a cigar. “Let’s just drop this thing until tomorrow morning,” he suggested in a pleading tone.

Still dressed in her slinky red gown, Zsa Zsa paced back and forth before him, clearly not ready to let it go. “And then you send someone else—
a priest
!—to tell me that you want to divorce me?” she asked, now seeming to want to explore other areas of contention. “You send a
priest
?”

Conrad was speechless. In a boardroom, he certainly knew how to be confrontational when just such a moment presented itself. But in a marriage? No. Mostly, he didn’t have the kind of passion for Zsa Zsa that it would have taken to work himself into the sort of furious lather that could even come close to matching her own. Not only that, but by his own admission, this was not a good day for him. Therefore, he just sat on the couch puffing on his Cuban and taking everything she had to dish out, all the while looking chagrined about it.

And
so what
if I want to look pretty?” she continued to rage as she stalked about the room. “
So
what? What have you ever done to make me feel wanted?”

He still couldn’t find the words to respond. To her, it must have seemed as if there was nothing she could do to enrage him. What could she do to bring forth some passion from this man? It must have seemed useless to her.

“How could you do this to me?” Zsa Zsa continued, now facing him, her eyes blazing and her Hungarian temper on full, explosive display. “If you didn’t
want
to marry me,” she concluded bitterly, “you shouldn’t have done it, Connie.
You just should not have done it!
”

He certainly couldn’t argue with her there. Now, perhaps, more than ever, he likely realized that he never, ever should have done it.

What Would It Take?

A
fter the big fight with Zsa Zsa in New York, Conrad immediately checked in to another suite of the Plaza. A few days later, he left the city and flew back to Los Angeles. By telephone, he then told Zsa Zsa that he was done with the marriage. There were a number of reasons for his decision. First of all, the religious conundrum having to do with his divorce from Mary had never really been reconciled in his mind. Also, that he now viewed Zsa Zsa as being shallow and self-involved did nothing to enhance her image in his eyes. Of course, his preoccupation with his work also figured into the equation. Hilton would later admit in his memoir that he preferred negotiating with businessmen for new hotels to negotiating with Zsa Zsa for ways to continue their marriage. Therefore, if she didn’t file for divorce, he would do it. After all she had been through with him, she said, the last thing she wanted was for
him
to file against
her
. “I’ll do it,” she said, “and happily.” After she did so, a property settlement and separation agreement was entered into on November 3, 1944, that saw to it that Zsa Zsa would receive $2,083.33 a month.