“After the war, I went back to California to help them infiltrate the film industry, but after I lost the part to Marilyn Monroe, they sent me to New York, to try to revitalize my career on the stage.”
“In my play.”
“Yes, in your play.” Maxine’s voice trembled. “It was a calculated move on their behalf, but I wanted to play Lina more than anything. It was a beautiful part, the best I’ve ever had. Then Julius Rosenberg was arrested, and everything fell to pieces. Arthur came up with the idea to use you and Charlie as a diversion, once the show had opened to raves. But I couldn’t let them do that to you and Charlie, so I, I . . .” She trailed off.
The image of Maxine standing on that stage, floundering like an amateur, came to mind. “Oh my God,” said Hazel. “You threw the show. On purpose.”
“I was protecting you.”
“How?”
“I hated to do it, Hazel, I swear. I figured by screwing up, I’d get you out of the spotlight, keep you out of Arthur’s reach.”
Her excuses enraged Hazel. “I had one chance. Only one. And you ruined it.”
Maxine shuddered. “I wasn’t in my right mind.”
“What about the evening of your birthday?” Hazel demanded. “That was the night you helped Arthur escape, right?”
She nodded, slowly, surprised. “An operative followed me to the theater, said I had to return to the hotel and let in Arthur through the town house, that the Feds were closing in on him.”
“That man who wanted your autograph?”
“Yes. So I left at intermission, took a cab there, let Arthur in, and then he insisted on coming back to the theater with me. I was trapped.”
Playing the victim again. Hazel couldn’t stand it. “So after all that, you not only flopped the show, you still set me and Charlie up that day in the hotel. You told the photographers where to find us, and ruined Charlie’s career as well.”
“No! I had nothing to do with it. My guess is Arthur stole my stationery and wrote that note. You have to believe me.”
Hazel tried to conjure up the memory of the note, what the handwriting had looked like, but it had been so long ago. “I don’t know what to believe anymore. You can’t deny that you named names.”
“I had to. You don’t understand.”
“No one had to. Sure, you might have not had the career you do now. You might have been destitute like me, but you didn’t have to.” Hazel started to laugh in spite of herself. Maxine looked at her like she was mad. Maybe she was.
“What’s so funny?” asked Maxine.
“I’m picturing you being questioned by Roy Cohn, and how he had an actual spy right there, right in the room with him, and didn’t even know it. The incompetency of it all.”
Maxine didn’t crack a smile. “I went in there thinking it was just about paperwork, and then I’d be on my way. But they started questioning me and, yes, I had a lot to hide. As Cohn dug in deeper, I panicked. I never meant to name anyone, never, but they knew my weak spot. They threatened to deport my grandmother if I didn’t cooperate and tell them what they wanted.”
Acid dripped from Hazel’s voice. “You poor dear.”
“I’m sorry for everything, I really am. I was trying to protect you, protect my family.”
Hazel would have none of it. “You’ve been living large on other people’s pain for years now.”
“I tried to help. I took the job in Hollywood so that I could support you, make it up to you. I figured by burning bright I could escape Arthur’s grip and free myself from being a Soviet agent, and it worked. Once I was out, I could take care of you.”
“Take care of me? What are you talking about?”
“I had an arrangement with Mr. Bard, and later his son, that I would pay your rent every month. I wanted you to share in the spoils. I knew I didn’t deserve it.”
Hazel burst out laughing. “You’re an idiot. Stanley Bard must have been pocketing your blood money for years now. I’ve never seen a penny. I paid what rent I could, and worked the switchboard when I couldn’t.”
“You never received it? But that was the whole point.” Maxine’s words faded away into the general noise of the party going on below them. She put one hand on the wall to steady herself.
Charlie stepped forward. “We’ll need you to tell the FBI everything you know.”
Maxine’s knees seemed to buckle at the sound of his voice, but she caught herself and recovered. “Charlie?” For a split second, the vamp from Naples reappeared, all smiles and charm. “What are you doing, eavesdropping on a lady’s private conversation?”
“Charlie works in the government now.”
Maxine snapped to attention. “Huh. I see. I’ve been set up.” She turned to Charlie, her voice ragged. “It’s all meaningless. I was a nobody, really.”
“Then you make a statement to that effect,” said Charlie. “The cables that were passed between spies and the Soviet Union are still being decoded and analyzed. It’s important that you share what you know.”
Hazel cut in. “Is your grandmother still your excuse?”
“No. She died years ago. There’s no one left to protect.” She looked at Charlie, then over at Hazel. “Hazel, I would have never hurt you. Anything I did was so that you wouldn’t get caught up in it, that you wouldn’t get hurt. But it was bigger than I could have imagined.”
“You seem to have made out pretty well in the bargain. For all intents and purposes, you’re a huge success.”
“No. I’m completely alone. I haven’t let anyone else into my life since then. I was too nervous that they’d come after me all over again, come after the people I love. There’s no one left. You’re the success, Hazel.”
“Is that so? Please, enlighten me.”
“You stood tall when everyone else was caving in. Don’t you see? That’s why you were honored tonight. All the trappings of fame mean nothing, not when you’ve sold your soul.”
“How easy to say, when you’re the one living the dream.”
Maxine straightened and looked over at Charlie. It was over, and she knew it. “Let me get my affairs in order this evening, and I’ll come to you first thing in the morning. You’ll get your due, I promise.”
Charlie nodded. Hazel stared at him in disbelief. “You’re going to just let her walk out of here? Are you crazy?”
“She has nowhere to hide, Hazel. Her plan worked for the Russians, and it works for us, too. She’s too big of a star. One night won’t make a difference, right, Maxine?”
Hazel didn’t wait for Maxine to respond. “Once again, you’re leaving destruction in your wake. I make the speech of my life, and then tomorrow you go out there, front and center, and admit to being a spy, take up the spotlight. You really know how to cap me at my knees every time, don’t you?”
Maxine began to cry. “No. That’s not what this is. Remember Naples, when we did so much good for the soldiers, made them forget where they were, for a little while? Same at the Chelsea Hotel, running lines and working on the play, I had that glorious feeling of freedom and creativity and not having any chains to hold us down. You will have your time in the spotlight. You are brilliant, and your play is brilliant. Everyone will see that now.”
Maxine’s facade, the one built on movie star glamour and a breathless beauty, had completely slipped away. She looked faded and lost.
“I’ll accept my responsibility, I promise,” said Maxine softly. “I’ll do whatever I can.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Maxine
March 27, 1967
The worst, with Arthur, was when we were driving somewhere together and he asked me to pull out the huge atlas and figure out the directions. It didn’t matter if we were cruising around the Hollywood Hills or looking for some unmarked door in Queens to make a drop-off, the very request would get my heart pumping like I was running alongside the car, not sitting in the passenger seat. I would look up the name of the street in the back as quickly as I could, then locate the appropriate square on the map, but I was never fast enough.