Chapter 1
Los Angeles - August, 1955
It was a muggy summer night when Hollywood's leading man first walked into my life. He was wearing sunglasses even though it was pitch black outside, under the palm trees by the pool of the bathhouse. And even in the darkness, I could tell he was wearing a wig by the cock-eyed way it hung from his head.
"Getta load of this clown," I said, slapping my pal Vinnie on the shoulder.
We both looked over, past the dozen or so guys lounging in the water, and watched as the mysterious man in a thick white robe surveyed his surroundings. The way he walked was stiff. It kinda looked like he had a banana stuck up his butt and he had to move very carefully to avoid smashing it.
"Hey Rex, you think he's in the pictures?" Vinnie wondered out loud.
I nodded. "Probably."
It wasn't the first time some secret Mary had stumbled into the bathhouse. They all thought they were undercover like secret agents on a mission. But the truth was they stuck out like a sore thumb. I didn't know why they made such a big show of wearing silly disguises. It only drew more attention.
But this man was different. There was a quiet intensity that seemed to swirl around him. A sort of magic. I wondered what secrets were locked up behind his clenched tight jawline that seemed to be carved from stone.
A short, round man was escorting the robed celebrity. That's what really drew attention. The escort—bodyguard?—had a bald crown and was dressed in a suit and tie. He was probably the same height as a middle school student.
The little man whispered to the stranger. There was a good foot of difference in height between them, so the stranger had to crouch down to listen. He whispered something back. They both nodded, then turned and walked back toward the main building, where the private rooms, lockers, and lounge area were.
Vinnie and I looked at each other with confusion.
"Well, that was strange," he remarked.
I just shook my head and laughed. "Hollywood-types. They're all the same."
About that time, our friend Howard came flouncing outside and made his way over to us. He was a queenie type, with one hand over his mouth like an excited schoolgirl and his other wrist dangling in the air like a purse.
"Did you boys see him?" Howard asked.
"How could we miss him?" I said dryly.
"But you know who he is, right? From the westerns?"
A lightbulb seemed to come on in Vinnie's head and his lips spread into a smile. "You can't be serious."
I guess I was the dim one because I still wasn't in on the joke. Who were they talking about?
"That's him," Howard confirmed.
Vinnie said, "But he's doing kissy-kissy flicks now, right? I read inVarietythat he has a new one coming out about a widow who falls in love with her gardener."
"Sounds like a yawner," I interjected. Love stories really weren't my thing. I preferred a good old-fashioned murder mystery. "And I still don't know who you're talking about."
"Let me give you a hint," Howard said with a coy giggle. "His name rhymes with cock and he's on his way to becoming Hollywood's new leading man."
Suddenly it all clicked, and although I wasn't usually the type to get star-struck, I did get a little weak in the knees thinking about him. "Get outta town."
"It's true," Vinnie said. "I hear he's been to some of the other baths too."
"But his days of sneaking around in anonymity are almost over," Howard explained. "He's becoming too famous."
I couldn't help but roll my eyes at that. If the man wanted to be anonymous, he probably shouldn't show up with his handler dressed in a three-piece suit.
Vinnie nodded back toward the door to the building and whispered, "Speak of the devil."
We looked over to see the round little man sweeping past the crowd and heading straight toward us. My whole body tensed up, feeling like the jokester in school who was about to be busted by the principal.
