Vintage Love (288 page)

The tramp blew its horn and pulled close to the yacht. Gallegher ordered two large lifeboats to be lowered to make their way across to the steamship. The boats were manned and when they reached the side of the tramp they were loaded with cases of bootleg whiskey.

“A fortune in that cargo,” Taylor said, a greedy look on his thin face as the cases of whiskey were brought back and lifted up into the ship. Waiting crewmen stowed them below at once.

Nita could not help but be thrilled as she watched the illegal operation. She knew that both ships were in peril from the coast guard and from the pirates who preyed on the bootleg ships to hijack their cargoes. Tommy Gallegher shouted out commands and the men obeyed. He was a figure of strength as the operation continued long after dark. Torches were set out on the steamship and on the yacht to make the work easier.

“Come on, men! We’re taking too long!” Tommy shouted as the returning boats lagged.

“The oars are getting heavy, boss,” one of the men panted as he carried up another case and heaved it onto the deck.

“Then let me take a hand!” The big man exclaimed. And he went down to the first boat and replaced one of the men.

Nita made no comment but she marvelled at Gallegher’s great strength and determination. He kept up a pace that even the youngest among his crew found it hard to match.

“You still think he’s an ape?” It was Jack Steel at her elbow.

She turned to the actor, “He’s many things. But one can’t deny he has energy and courage.”

“Not many of his sort around,” Jack said, watching grimly.

Nita began to wonder where all the cases were being stored, when the operation suddenly ended. There were shouts from the steamship and answering cries from the crew of the yacht. Then the big tramp steamer sailed off into the night and soon her lights disappeared from view.

Once again Gallegher’s guests were allowed the freedom of the ship. He was now below, working feverishly at storing the cases of whiskey. He came up once and stood perspiring in the light of the torches. Nita watched him from the shadows and saw him return below to the grueling task.

There was a party that night. Both crew and passengers celebrated, the crew in their own quarters and the passengers in the lounge. Nita joined the group for a little while but as the night went on everyone became more drunken and she was anxious to escape.

Richard, who’d been drinking less than the others, came to her rescue, saying, “Would you like to leave?”

“Please,” she agreed, rising.

“Let me escort you to your cabin then,” he said.

He walked with her along the deck and down to her cabin. At the door he gave her a goodnight peck on the cheek, telling her, “We should make port by tomorrow night.”

“That soon?”

“It’s been a week. Gallegher won’t dally now that he is loaded with booze. He’ll want to be rid of it.”

“I’m sure that’s true,” she agreed.

She said goodnight and went into her cabin. When she turned on the light, she found William Desmond Taylor standing there in dressing gown and pajamas. He smiled at her in his sly way.

“It struck me you might be lonely,” he said.

She was shocked and frightened. “How dare you come in here?”

The older man’s thin face continued to show a smile. He said, “You don’t have to pretend with me. You’re not all that virtuous. You like a man now and then.”

“Get out!” she said, opening the door.

“I’ll tell them you lured me here and then changed your mind,” he warned her.

“You wouldn’t!”

“Try me!”

“Please go,” she begged him. “I’m in no mood for this sort of thing!”

The director came towards her and reaching out for her said, “Funny, it happens that I am.”

But just as he reached for her something entirely unexpected happened. The yacht gave a dreadful lurch and seemed suddenly to spin around. Both she and Taylor lost their balance and fell to the floor of the cabin. Now the engines were roaring at full speed and the ship had changed direction.

Taylor stumbled across to the porthole and looked out. Then he cried, “Someone is bearing down on us!” He ran out the door.

Nita followed him along the corridor and up the stairway to the deck. Most of the others were already there, as well as Gallegher and some of his crew.

Coming close to them was a yacht similar to the one they were on. The lights from Gallegher’s yacht were directed at the other craft, keeping it spotlighted against the night. At the same time the other yacht’s lights were flooding Gallegher’s.

A man appeared on the deck of the other craft and using a megaphone, called out, “Stand by for boarding!”

“Go to hell!” Gallegher called to him, shaking a fist.

The two boats raced on, Gallegher’s in an effort to escape and the other ship following it closely. The man with the megaphone shouted, “Stop or we’ll open fire!”

“Open fire and you’ll get more of the same yourself!” Tommy Gallegher cried defiantly, his fist in the air.

The other yacht moved closer and Nita could see the machine guns on its deck, the operators crouched over them. At a given signal the machine guns rattled out their deadly fire.

“Down on the deck!” Gallegher cried in warning for them to follow his example.

The yacht opened fire on the pursuing craft and now loud clatters of machine gun fire roared in the night. Nita and the others remained pressed to the deck as the exchange between the two craft went on.

Suddenly there was a bright flash from the other craft and a direct strike on the railing above. Part of the cabin was splintered and smoking.

“Shells!” Tommy Gallegher roared. “They’re really asking for it, boys!”

Jadck Steel crouched down on the deck with Nita and in a quavering voice said, “I hope we make it to shore alive!”

There was another blast and now the damage was lower and near the bow of the sleek yacht. The smoke and acrid powder smell filled Nita’s lungs and blinded her. The other passengers were coughing and crying out in fear.

Nita heard Gallegher give a wild shout and she looked up to see him on the upper deck, preparing something in his hand. He hurled it across to the other yacht as it made an attempt to come up broadside to his yacht.

“Drive her ahead like hell!” The big man shouted.

The yacht spurted forward and at the same instant there was a huge explosion on the other craft. Only then did Nita realize that Gallegher had thrown a powerful high explosive onto the deck of the hijacker.

The black night was filled with an angry glow and clouds of gray smoke as a second explosion rocked the other craft. By this time they were a good distance away and it seemed clear the hijacker was doomed to sink.

Nita and the others were struggling to their feet, dirty from smoke and terrified. Gallegher came striding down the steps to their level, his face smeared with black powder dust and perspiration.

“Now you know it’s not all drinking and proft!” he said belligerently, then moved away to direct his crew in repairing of the damage.

Nita and Richard stood in the bow gazing back at the distant red glow of the hijacker still ablaze. Richard said, “We’ll get no more interference from that quarter.”

“I thought they were going to sink us and we’d all be drowned,” she said.

“Gallegher was too much for them,” he said.

There was no celebration that night. Two of the crew had suffered minor wounds, and Gallegher had vanished with his starlet, presumably for a final night of loving before they docked.

Nita was not bothered again by William Desmond Taylor. The battle at sea seemed to have thrown him off his stride. He kept away from her, not even looking in her direction when they did happen to be in close proximity. For her part, she said nothing about his visit. She knew the voyage was almost at an end and she couldn’t wait to return to the seclusion of her cottage.

They docked the following morning. Gallegher did not say goodbye to her. As Nita was getting into the car with Richard she looked back. He was standing on the upper deck of the yacht watching her and he waved. She waved back. It was enough. They understood each other.

Nita rested and read the back newspapers with their many photos of Eric. The sight of his smiling face gazing at her from the front pages made her break into tears once more but she forced them back. She remained a recluse in the cottage. The press did not bother her as the funeral was over and they were now pursuing other stories.

Two days later Nita was called to the huge office of Lew Meyers. The little man actually rose from behind his desk and came forward to greet her warmly. He placed an arm around her and escorted her to a chair.

“You’re a smart girl, Nita,” he said, pleased. “Taking that cruise was a good move.”

“It gave me a chance to collect myself,” she said.

He stood behind his desk, noticing her smart gray frock and said, “None of that black nonsense like Barbara! You are worth two of her.”

“Eric is gone,” she said. “No amount of mourning can bring him back.”

The little man pointed a stubby forefinger at her. “So true! Tears will only mar your lovely face, and a sad heart makes for a sad expression. The cameras don’t like sad expressions.”

“I understand,” she said.

“We will resume ‘Bondage’ tomorrow,” Meyers said. “When it’s finished I want you to step into a new film right away.”

“Without any break?”

“You’ve had a rest,” the little man protested.

“I earned it in a painful way,” she said. “It wasn’t so much a rest as it was coming to terms with grief.”

“I know,” Meyers said sadly as he paced back and forth. “But maybe it is just as well. It might not have turned out so good.”

“I think we’d have been ideally happy,” she said.

“So!” The little man sighed. “Live long enough and you’ll be happy again.”

“Perhaps,” Nita said wryly.

“We need to get a couple of good films starring you out at once,” Lew Meyers went. “Work hard until they are done and I’ll give you a vacation. I’ll send you to New York for a few days.”

Nita rose. “I’ll do it if Richard agrees and approves of the scripts.”

Meyers looked upset. “Do I have to keep on dealing with him?”

“He’s my agent.”

“And he’s one of those pansies,” Lew Meyers complained. “You ought to try and get rid of him.”

“Eric chose him for my agent.”

“Eric was his boyfriend,” Lew Meyers said with disgust. “
You
ain’t sleeping with the guy, are you?”

“No. We are very close, but not in that way.”

“So try and get rid of him before your stock shoots higher. He’ll try to take all he can from you.”

“I have complete confidence in Richard,” Nita replied.

“I hope it doesn’t cost you too much,” the little man told her.

Nita left the producer’s office in a depressed state. She wished that Meyers could see her as a human being and not merely as a commodity for him to manipulate. But it was stupid to hope for that. Lew Meyers was one of the original pioneers in the film industry. These men would always be tight-fisted and crass, it was bred in their bones.

She was crossing the parking lot to her car when Phillip Watters drove up. When he saw her he got out of his roadster and came to where she sat behind the wheel of her own vehicle.

“I’m sorry about Eric,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said, coldly polite.

“I felt like a heel when I read the headlines. I went back to Malibu but you and all that crowd had left on Gallegher’s boat.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said.

“I hope I can see you more often,” he said.

She started her engine. “I expect to be very busy. I’m beginning a new film as soon as I complete the one I’m on.”

Phillip reproached her, “You can always find time for those you want to see. Like William Desmond Taylor and his crowd. Or Tommy Gallegher!”

“I choose my own company as I like, remember that,” she said. And she drove away leaving him frowning after her.

Nita returned to work on “Bondage,” which was finished in a record four days. Then she at once moved on to another set to film “Dancing Girl,” the story of life in a small vaudeville troupe. She was glad to be doing a movie which would give her a chance to show her talents. She had worked hard to learn to sing and dance and she didn’t want to be restricted to only dramatic roles.

Richard Wright wasn’t pleased. He told her, “The part is good for you but I don’t like the story. It’s too late to do anything about it now. Meyers has everything set, including the director and dance director.”

At night Nita spent her time studying the script for each new day’s production, and each morning she spent an hour on her dance routines. The director was an elderly Austrian who had a bad speech problem. His English was extremely limited and it was hard for him to explain anything to his cast. As a result many of them did as they liked and just walked through their roles.

This angered Nita since the production meant a great deal to her. Then she had an inspiration. She went to Lew Meyers and told him her problem.

He was sympathetic but he explained, “Getting an assistant director won’t be easy. The Austrian won’t share any credits. And it’s impossible to hire a good assistant without giving him credit.”

She said, “I think I know someone who could do a fine job and who wouldn’t expect or even desire any credit.”

“Who have you in mind?” the studio head asked.

“I have a friend who knows Roscoe Arbuckle and he’s taking on any kind of work. He’s very competent as a director.”

The little man looked as if he might burst with indignation. “Fatty Arbuckle!” he exclaimed. “I wouldn’t have him inside Master Studios. He’s still an untouchable! You should know better!”

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“You’ll have to get along with the man we have,” Lew Meyers said. “I’ll get an interpreter on the set. He knows his work. It’s only the language problem that’s holding him up.”

The next day the interpreter was on hand and the tempo of work picked up. A studio orchestra supplied moood music and also the music for the vaudeville numbers. A great many extras had been engaged and one day Nita noticed a figure large, floppy hat which looked familiar to her.