Chapter 18 Ingrid
Ingrid
With a headache that is only marginally improved after last night’s Star Society party and Ada’s admission regarding what
happened in Arnhem, Ingrid steps from her cab and onto the corner of Hollywood and Vine. Streetcars and automobiles rumble
down the busy street, the noise doing little to ease the pounding in her temples.
Melody Lane is buzzing with patrons as Ingrid enters the restaurant where her meeting is to take place. She follows the curving
bar counter toward a small round table and leather banquette in a secluded corner, where Agent Stieber is halfway through
his breakfast—a stack of thin hotcakes glistening with butter and golden maple syrup. Steam wafts from a cup of black coffee,
joining the buttery sweetness that hits Ingrid’s nostrils as she takes her seat.
Following a “good morning, sir” and a cursory glance at the menu, she orders black coffee and a glass of water. The eggs and
toast Ada prepared for them have settled well enough, but the greasy sweetness lingering in the air leaves her no desire to
tempt fate.
“Did you confirm the Communist front at last night’s Star Society gathering?” Agent Stieber asks.
A bright-eyed waitress brings Ingrid’s coffee, sparing her from an immediate reply. Soon enough she will have to mention Gordon’s
political affiliations, but that can wait until she has something better to offer regarding Ada’s.
“Nothing to confirm yet. I have photographs of the attendees and will conduct further research. I found no evidence that Miss
Worthington-Fox is a Communist, but I’ve advised her to make a public statement to address her views. This morning, she agreed
to do so.”
“A statement? In which she might lie?”
Not quite a reprimand, although it brings heat to her cheeks. Still, if Ada saw the wisdom in the idea, surely Stieber will
too.
“Let’s say she claims she’s not a Communist, and meanwhile I confirm the Star Society is a front. She will be exposed as a
supporter of subversive behavior. But if I confirm the Star Society is not a front, if no evidence indicates Miss Worthington-Fox is subversive, and if she states she is not a Communist through an
anti-Communist publication, then we have no reason to doubt her. The truth will be uncovered, your office will have all the
necessary information to protect our country, and the public will remain adequately informed regarding which actors they support.”
“And she is willing to do it, despite never speaking publicly about such matters?”
“She is, although she wants to wait until her film shoot has ended. I will be contacting Minnie Musgrave from The Dish to offer her the story.”
Nothing changes in Stieber’s face as he chews the last bite of his breakfast. “A statement, then. Have it in place before your eight-week deadline, keep me informed, and bring me a printed copy.” The small indication of approval is all Ingrid needs until he continues.
“Someone with a reputation for privacy is someone with secrets. Find out hers.”
Tension wraps around her throat, preventing a reply, so she nods. She had expected a statement made through an anti-Communist
publication to be enough for him, but apparently she will need something more—proof of existing associations with anti-Communists,
perhaps. She will certainly find a variety of political leanings among the Star Society’s guests, then she can investigate
Ada’s past working relationships to identify other connections.
Agent Stieber seems convinced Ada is hiding something. Which she is, technically, but Ada’s secrets have nothing to do with
his purposes. Ingrid cannot say as much, though, so she will simply do what she came here to do: uncover the truth and protect
her sister.
The next day, after spending her morning updating her file with everything she learned from the Star Society, including the
names from Gordon’s circle of friends who were—most likely—discussing their politics, Ingrid proceeds to her next destination:
a tall office building with a curved facade on Sunset Boulevard.
She finds the proper office, knocks, steps inside, and is greeted by a cloud of cigarette smoke.
Minnie Musgrave is everything Ingrid expects her to be—a woman with a face caked in layers of makeup, wearing a bright blue
floral dress, beaded necklaces and bracelets, and a flat-brimmed yellow hat with obscenely large peacock feathers jutting
at various angles.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Musgrave. We spoke on the telephone. I’m Ingrid van Essen.”
Mrs. Musgrave holds a cigarette between lips painted a gaudy pink and doesn’t accept Ingrid’s outstretched hand. Instead she gestures for her to sit.
So much for formalities.
“Pleasure,” Ingrid continues as if such rudeness were not terribly irritating. “I mentioned the possibility of—”
“An exclusive with Ada Worthington-Fox, and you called this morning to say she’s agreed, so I said get your ass over here.”
An impatient edge laces the words as the gossip columnist drops her cigarette into a coffee mug and leans across the desk.
“Dish it, doll.”
Best to get right to the point, then. She pulls a few items from her handbag, brought with Ada’s approval to satisfy Mrs.
Musgrave and prove Ingrid’s claim of their working relationship. First, an old entry from Ada’s day planner, then a note from
Ada herself: Minnie darling, this is all rather excessive, so I expect you and I will get along splendidly. Now do please take poor Ingrid
at her word. Kisses, A. W-F.
“Miss Worthington-Fox would like to offer you an exclusive interview focusing on Communism in the entertainment industry,”
Ingrid says while Mrs. Musgrave reviews the submitted material. “She would like to make arrangements and run the article after
she finishes filming.”
Mrs. Musgrave arches a brow. “I’ll agree to run the interview after filming if she gives it to me now. And I reserve the right
to the next exclusive.”
Ingrid doubts there will be a next exclusive, but Mrs. Musgrave has a point about the interview. Ada will be busy when filming
begins, and the story needs to print as soon as possible—for both Ada’s sake and Ingrid’s—so it might be best to conduct the
interview while she has the time.
“Deal. I’ll consult Miss Worthington-Fox’s schedule and be in touch to make arrangements.”
When Ingrid leaves Mrs. Musgrave’s office, she takes a deep, cleansing breath while a rush of pride and relief surges through her.
The exclusive is in place. It’s too soon to call this a successfully completed assignment, but she is certainly much closer.
And after this, surely her sister will be much safer.
After a quick lunch, Ingrid makes her way to Schwab’s Pharmacy. The drugstore on Sunset Boulevard is a popular spot for Ada,
her friends, and other members of the entertainment industry, or so her sister once said. Indeed, as she wanders through the
aisles of medicine and miscellaneous essentials before stepping to the soda counter, Ingrid could swear she spots a woman
who looks just like Ava Gardner. She’s not here for autographs, though, simply to listen. To observe. To do what she’s been
sent to Hollywood to do.
Ingrid is finishing a hot fudge sundae, sipping a cherry soda, and listening to two writers discussing a script when a blond
woman assumes the seat beside hers. As she gives a sidelong glance to acknowledge the newcomer, she pauses. Haven’t they met?
Her companion narrows her eyes, as if trying to remember why she recognizes the red-haired woman, then brightens.
“Gordon Sharpe’s house—the Star Society party. I’m Beverly Tolbert, another of Gordon’s clients, and you’re Ingrid, right?”
“Quite right. Lovely to see you again. Are you meeting someone?”
“No, I’ve got plans later, so I stopped in to pass some time. You? Is Ada on her way?” Before Ingrid can reply, Beverly’s
eyebrows shoot up with a look that can only mean she’s spotted a handsome fellow. “Well, this is turning into quite a little
gathering of my new friends,” she says, waving the person over.
When Ingrid turns to introduce herself to the man holding a half-finished chocolate malt, she resists a frown. Must he be
everywhere?
“Afternoon, Miss Tolbert.” Archie tips his hat, bringing color to Beverly’s cheeks. “I was told the best chocolate malts in town are right here.”
“You were told correctly. Archie Stribling, meet another first-time guest from Saturday’s party, Ingrid van Essen—who also
happens to be Ada’s cousin.”
Everything inside Ingrid runs cold while Archie stops with his hand halfway extended toward her.
Damn it all.
The cover story. A perfect solution to their resemblance, to any questions regarding why Ada’s temporary assistant looks like
her. A cover story she hoped her fellow private investigator would not hear since she had instructed him to stay away from
Ada, and a resemblance she hoped he would accept as an uncanny similarity. She should have expected him to force his way into
a Star Society party, to get close to Sternberg and Ada’s circle of friends and hear the story, and now he’s bound to realize
she’s investigating her own relative.
“Ada’s cousin?” Archie’s face breaks into a wide grin. “No wonder you two favor so strongly.”
“So we’ve been told.” She quickly shakes his outstretched hand, hoping he doesn’t notice how clammy hers has become. “You
and Beverly met at the party, did you?” Not that changing the subject will make matters any better.
“Yes, Mr. Stribling is an aspiring actor, so when he met Ada at the Biltmore one afternoon, she invited him. Although one
must earn Ada’s trust before being welcomed into the Star Society, which is no easy feat. Dare I ask how you convinced her
to accept you so readily?” Beverly raises a flirtatious brow at Archie, who says something equally irritating, although Ingrid
can hardly focus on the exchange.