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‘I’m gonna be longer than I thought,’ I told Larry. ‘You want to come in and have a drink in the bar?’

‘In there?’ he asked. ‘Where the movie stars drink? Sure thing!’

‘OK,’ I said, as he got out of his cab, ‘but turn off the meter.’

‘Aw, Mr Gianelli,’ he said, ‘you didn’t think I’d leave it runnin’, didja?’

‘No, of course not,’ I said, ‘and my name’s Eddie G., Larry.’

‘OK, Mr G.,’ he said. ‘Let’s go.’

We went into the building, entered the Polo Lounge and sat at the bar. Right off the bat I spotted Debbie Reynolds having lunch with somebody. Howard Duff and Ida Lupino were at a corner table, Steve Lawrence and Eydie Gorme in a booth. I had to keep Larry rooted to his stool so he didn’t charge anybody.

‘You’re a cab driver in Hollywood,’ I said. ‘I would think this was old hat to you.’

‘You kiddin’?’ he asked. ‘A star’s a star, man.’

‘Eddie?’

I turned and saw Joey Bishop walking toward me. There was a woman behind him, but all I could see was blonde hair and a shapely figure.

‘Hey, Eddie G.,’ he said. ‘What’re you doin’ out of Vegas?’

I got off my stool and shook hands with him.

‘They let me out once in a while, Joe.’

‘What are ya doin’ here?’ he asked.

‘I’m here on some Sands business, Joe,’ I said.

‘Trackin’ down some bad debts?’

‘You got it. Oh, this is my friend, Larry.’

‘Hey, Larry,’ Joey said, shaking hands. He stepped aside so we could see the woman behind him. I found myself looking at the second most beautiful overbite I’d ever seen this side of Gene Tierney.

‘This is my TV wife, Abby Dalton. We were just gonna have lunch. Honey, this is Eddie Gianelli, and his friend, Larry.’

‘Geez,’ Larry said, staring at Abby.

‘The famous Eddie G.,’ Abby said, with a dazzling smile. ‘I’ve heard so much about you. It’s a pleasure to meet you.’

‘Miss Dalton-’

‘Oh, no,’ she said, ‘any friend of my TV husband’s is a friend of mine. You call me Abby. In fact, you can call me any time you want.’

‘Hey, hey,’ Joey said, ‘no fair flirtin’ right in front of your husband.’

Joey pulled Abby away from me.

‘Can you have a bite with us?’ she asked.

‘I’m sorry, no,’ I said. ‘I’m, uh, waiting for somebody.’

‘It was good to see you, Eddie.’

‘You too, Joey,’ I said. ‘Hey, Abby, if you ever get to Vegas-’

‘I was born in Vegas, Eddie,’ she said. ‘Next time I come to see my folks I’ll look you up.’

‘You do that.’

As they walked away to a table Larry said, ‘Damn, that babe was comin’ on to ya. That happen a lot?’

‘Once in a while,’ I said.

‘Maybe,’ he said, when we had our drinks — a couple of beers — ’we should go look by the pool? Maybe Miss Gardner’s there? Or some other movie stars?’

‘Relax, Larry,’ I said. ‘It’s lunch time. They’ll be flocking in here pretty soon.’

‘I could just go up to Debbie Reynolds and ask-’

‘No,’ I said, ‘leave her alone. She’s doin’ business. Like most of these people.’

‘Hey, Eddie!’

I turned and got a quick kiss on the cheek from Eydie Gorme.

‘We’ve got to run, Eddie,’ Steve Lawrence said, ‘but we wanted to say hi.’

‘Hey, Steve,’ I said, ‘I love Go Away Little Girl.’ He had a number one hit that year with that song.

‘Thanks a lot, Eddie.’

I gave Eydie a squeeze and shook Steve’s hand and they went on their way.

‘Geez, everybody know you?’ Larry asked.

‘No,’ I said, ‘just some.’

I was starting to feel dumb about using the pay phone. There was no guarantee I’d hear it, or that anyone would pick it up when it rang. And if someone did answer it, would they come looking for me? I should have had Jack call me at the front desk. Then they could have paged me, which might have given me some credence with the desk clerk.

‘If a movie star walks in,’ Larry said, ‘maybe they can help ya find her?’

‘You think all movie stars know each other, Larry?’ I asked.

‘Hell, Mr G.,’ he said, ‘Hollywood’s a small town. Yeah, everybody knows everybody. Look how many know you? And you ain’t from here.’

‘Wait here,’ I told Larry. ‘Have another beer. I’m gonna make a phone call.’

‘Sure.’

I put money on the bar to cover the drinks, then went back out into the lobby.

I was walking towards the pay phone to call Jack again when it rang. I stepped in, closed the door and answered.

‘Eddie?’

‘Hey, Jack.’

‘Frank says when Ava was first put under contract the studio wanted to call her Lucy Johnson, but she wouldn’t go for it. She insisted on using her real name. But she uses Johnson sometimes as an alias.’

‘OK,’ I said. ‘I’ll try that. Listen, if you don’t hear from me in twenty minutes call me at the hotel and have the desk page me.’

‘What for?’

‘I’m just trying to raise my profile here, Jack,’ I said. ‘Being paged in the Polo Lounge will do that.’

‘I didn’t know you went in for that sort of thing, Eddie.’

‘Just call me.’

‘I’ll have my girl do it.’

‘She won’t,’ I said. ‘She hates me.’

‘We’ll take care of it,’ Jack said, and hung up.

TWELVE

‘Who?’ the clerk asked.

‘Lucy Johnson,’ I repeated. ‘Do you have a Lucy Johnson registered?’

The man looked confused.

‘Come on,’ I said. ‘It’s not that hard a question to answer.’

‘Um, I’ll check, sir.’

‘You do that.’

He checked his registration records, even though I knew he didn’t have to.

‘Look,’ I said, as he started to sweat, ‘call your manager. I’ll talk to him.’

Relieved, he said, ‘Yes, sir.’

He picked up his phone, dialed three numbers and said, ‘Mr Gentry, I need you out here. Yes, sir, it’s very important.’

He hung up and looked at me.

‘He’s comin’ right out.’

‘That wasn’t so hard, was it?’ I asked.

‘No, sir,’ he said, ‘but I’m just tryin’ to do my job, sir.’

‘Ain’t we all?’ I asked.

I saw three more celebrities walk through the lobby while we waited for the manager. I knew them by sight, they didn’t know me, at all. One of them was that guy who played in the TV. western Sugarfoot. Will Hutchins, that was it. Another one was the guy with the mustache from Hawaiian Eye. Used to be all you saw in the Beverly Hills Hotel lobby was movie stars. At least, that’s what I heard.

When the Manager appeared he was older and, if possible, more dapper than the desk clerk. It was easy to see this was in the desk clerk’s future.

‘What is it, Leon?’ he asked the clerk.

‘Um, this gent wants to know what room Lucy Johnson is in.’

‘Lucy Johnson?’ The Manager looked at me.

‘That’s right,’ I said.

‘Do you have business with Miss Johnson?’ the Manager asked. ‘You see, we guarantee our guests’ privacy-’

‘I understand that,’ I said, ‘but it’s important I speak with Miss Gardner — I mean, Miss Johnson.’

It wasn’t a slip of the tongue. I just wanted to make sure we all knew who we were really talking about.

‘Are you, uh, from the studio?’ he asked.

‘No,’ I said, ‘my business is much more personal than that, if you know what I mean.’

Suddenly, as if a light had been turned on in his head, the Manager smiled.

‘Oh, I understand,’ he said. I could tell by the look on his face that he thought he understood, but I knew he really didn’t. Now I had to decide if I wanted him to keep thinking what I thought he was thinking.

‘Please,’ he said, ‘come with me. I will escort you to her bungalow.’

OK, well, this was what I’d wanted, and it looked like I’d succeeded, so why try to talk him out of it now?

‘Lead on.’

I followed him out to the bungalows, and down a path toward one of them.

‘I was a little confused,’ he said, as we walked, ‘because Miss Johnson usually prefers the company of much younger, um. .’

‘Men?’ I asked.

‘Well, yes,’ he said. ‘I mean, uh, no offense.’

‘None taken,’ I said. ‘I guess everyone needs a little more seasoning once in a while, huh?’

‘Yes,’ he said, ‘yes, indeed.’

We approached one of the bungalows and he turned to give me a smile that was meant to convey some sort of bond we were sharing.

‘Will you knock,’ he said, ‘or shall I?’

I stepped forward and knocked on the door. We waited, and I realized I was holding my breath. I had never seen Ava Gardner in person.

When the door opened she squinted her eyes against the light, held her hand up for shade. Ava Gardner was sex in a bottle — a wine bottle, still corked. Sexy and beautiful on the outside, but once the cork was popped. .

Frank said she didn’t like what she saw when she looked in a mirror these days, but when I looked at her it was like a punch in the stomach. She was Venus, Maria Vargas from The Barefoot Contessa, but to me she’d always be Honey Bear Kelly from Mogambo. Her black hair was cut Honey Bear short, her skin pale and smooth. And the green eyes, oh the green eyes, even squinted and shaded they were amazing. .

‘Mr Gentry,’ she said, ‘I thought I made it clear I did not want to be disturbed.’

‘Uh, this gentleman asked for you by name, Madam,’ he stammered. ‘I mean, uh, he asked for Lucy Johnson.’

She looked at me for the first time, and I saw Ava, the sexual predator. She looked me up and down and asked, ‘Who the hell are you?’

‘I’ve come on behalf of Frank’

She stared at me for a few minutes, then looked at the Manager and said, ‘It’s all right, Mr Gentry.’

‘Yes, Ma’am.’

She showed him her index finger and added, ‘But no one else, understand?’

‘I understand.’ He actually bowed to her, and backed away.

As he scurried back down the path she looked at me and said, ‘Come on in, you must be Eddie G.’