Chapter 20 Ingrid
Ingrid
The bright California sun warms her skin as Ingrid relaxes beside Gordon’s pool, reading the first draft of Ada’s exclusive.
And not a moment too soon, considering Ingrid’s eight weeks are almost over, so she’s running out of time to ensure a satisfactory
piece. She pestered Mrs. Musgrave multiple times about when they might expect the draft, then conceded to waiting impatiently
after she was told to ease up, doll, or I’ll write an exclusive about the most annoying assistant in Hollywood. This morning, Mrs. Musgrave called to relay its completion, so Ada’s “assistant” picked it up and brought it over. After
reviewing the piece and making a few notes, Ada returned it to Ingrid for her approval.
Next to Ingrid, Ada is clad in a bikini, stretched out on a lounge chair, reading the latest issue of Vogue. She looks up briefly to wave at Gordon’s gardener, who waves back as he passes by after tending the roses.
This mansion has countless rooms, gardeners, housekeepers, cooks, even waitstaff when necessary—though none live on the grounds because, according to Ada, Gordon prefers a home to himself.
Not to mention parties with celebrities Ingrid once knew only through the cinema. What an unusual life her sister leads.
When Ingrid finishes reading, it takes all her self-control not to rush inside to call Agent Stieber and relay her success.
Perhaps he was hesitant to trust an exclusive, but such a clear, honest piece will surely ease his doubts.
“It’s wonderful, Leidje, really. Make sure you mention the Star Society too, just to avoid confusion. These days, even the
most innocent of gatherings can be suspected of being a front.”
“Very well, if you insist.” She sighs. “I suppose we’ll find out if this works.”
Whether she means to convince the public of her views or to encourage Dietrich to emerge from hiding, Ingrid does not know.
Both, perhaps.
“Must you leave next week?” Ada asks as she flips the page in her magazine. “It’s been so lovely having you here.”
“It’s been lovely being here, but I do miss Lars. And you start filming soon, so you’ve got to be prepared.” Ingrid adjusts
her swimsuit strap and tucks both hands behind her head, narrowing her eyes against the bright sunlight.
“Filming will be fun, won’t it? Film noir has been so popular lately. The Blue Dahlia with Veronica Lake, The Big Sleep with Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall . . . Can you imagine making a film with your spouse? Of course they weren’t married
yet during filming, but acting alongside someone you love must be equally as thrilling as it is peculiar.”
“You’ll be making a film with your former beau. Are you concerned about working with Vince Hart?”
Ada’s laugh is somewhat strained. “We’re on fine terms, really. Even if we weren’t, it’s a job, so we would treat it as such.
And I do hope being here hasn’t cost you yours.”
“My what?”
“Your job. The temporary leave.” Ada sits up and removes her sunglasses. “The moment you realized who I was, you came all
the way here, spent weeks away from your husband, risked your career . . . No one has ever done anything so kind for me, and
I’ll never forget it.”
Suddenly Ingrid can’t bear the light shining in her sister’s eyes. “You would have done the same for me.” Then she holds up
the exclusive. “Shall I take this inside so we don’t get it wet?”
Without awaiting a reply, she springs to her feet and hurries toward the house.
This little prickle of guilt over Ada’s gratitude is unwarranted. Of course Ingrid would have come the moment she realized
Ada was alive, not just because she was sent here for work. She has no reason to feel as if her sister’s appreciation is undeserved.
And she will explain once she has permission to speak of her other reasons for being here. Surely Ada will understand why
Ingrid couldn’t be honest right away and will appreciate Ingrid’s efforts to protect her.
She swallows a hitch in her breath, then she takes the exclusive to the spare bedroom where she left her bag containing a
change of clothes and a few pieces of equipment tucked beneath her belongings. She finds the cigarette packet concealing her
Whittaker Micro 16, photographs the piece, then returns the camera and drops the article off in Ada’s office. Once finished,
she closes her hands into fists, settling a slight tremble.
Soon. Soon she will tell Ada everything.
She cannot delay any longer, so she hurries back to the pool. At the sound of her approaching footsteps, Ada looks to her,
brow furrowed.
“Everything all right, Inge?”
“Yes, fine.” Ingrid doesn’t take her seat, though, and instead steps to the pool’s edge and dips one foot into the water,
giving herself an excuse to avoid Ada’s gaze. “Make us drinks, will you? Something fruity and tropical with lots of rum.”
“Not until you tell me what’s bothering you.”
“Nothing, I . . .” As Ada joins her by the pool, Ingrid sighs but doesn’t face her. “I’m going to miss you terribly, that’s
all.”
“Not until next week,” Ada says briskly, although Ingrid recognizes that false brightness from years ago before they parted,
when her sister was so calm and encouraging, containing her true feelings for Ingrid’s sake. “You’re right; a drink is just
what you need. I’ll be right back, so cheer up, darling.”
Before Ingrid can reply, a shove sends her over the pool’s edge, where she hits with a splash before the cool water swallows
her. She stays under as time suspends and shock transforms into bliss, then bobs to the surface and finds Ada retreating toward
the house, although not without throwing a cheeky grin over her shoulder.
“You are an absolute child!” Ingrid calls after her as their joined laughter floats across the lawn. She flips onto her back,
absorbing the sun’s warmth while the cool water washes over her.
Ada is right; they still have time, and Ingrid has nearly finished what she came here to accomplish. The November elections
will take place in a few weeks—results that will either give more power to HUAC or revoke it—and her investigation has done
enough to help the committee, surely, and to erase concerns regarding her sister. On her next visit, work can be forgotten.
After returning to the Biltmore, Ingrid cleans up from her afternoon by the pool, then calls Agent Stieber to request a meeting.
When he arrives a few minutes prior to their agreed time, she welcomes him into her hotel room, then immediately offers him
the roll of film.
“Photographs of Ada Worthington-Fox’s exclusive regarding her views on Communism. The article won’t be printed for a few months,
but this shows the edited draft.”
He accepts it with a curt nod.
“I was at her agent’s house today and recorded a conversation between Miss Worthington-Fox and Mr. Sharpe. It will be included
in my report, of course, but I thought you should hear it now.” Ingrid plays the recording—a bit of meaningless conversation,
then a rustle of paper followed by Gordon’s voice, indicating Ada had offered him a document.
“What’s this?”
“The exclusive I gave to Minnie Musgrave about my views on everything happening in the industry. I’m going to request a few
small changes, but I thought you should hear about it from me before it runs in a few months.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you wanted to make a statement? I would have arranged it.”
“Because I didn’t know what you would say, or if you would agree with Mr. Hendrix about staying quiet to maintain my image.”
“To hell with your image and Hendrix and me, for that matter. It’s your career, Ada. Do what you feel is best. I’ll give you
my thoughts or advice, but the ultimate decision is always yours. And I’ll always support you.”
A little sigh of relief, then Ada’s soft voice: “I’ve learned neither words nor silence can truly protect me. But I’ve also
learned to do what I feel is right. This time, for myself and my fans, I want to be honest.”
Faint rustles, the click of a lighter, then an exhale, indicating Gordon had lit a cigarette. “After the Depression, when
I was a young man, the party was against fascism and advocated for social welfare, which appealed to many during such a difficult
time. Such causes remain important to me, of course, but those made it easier to overlook the flaws in the party’s implementation
as seen in history and other countries.” Pensive silence. “Don’t let anyone tell you what to say or why you should say it.
Don’t be afraid to say how you feel either. Your words might encourage someone else to think. As you did for me.”
The recording ends. Stieber fears Ada will lie in her exclusive, but this is the proof he wanted. Verbal proof in the privacy of her home, sharing her honest opinion with a man she trusts. Ingrid turns off the machine, watching her handler’s face even though it never betrays him.
“The agent is a Communist?”
Ingrid resists a scowl. Was that all Agent Stieber got from the conversation? “He has reconsidered his views, due in part
to her encouragement. Details will be in my full report, which I’ll submit to you and Mr. Crenshaw when I return home. But
after spending these last weeks with her and uncovering evidence such as this, I can confidently say Ada Worthington-Fox is
not a Communist, and there is no reason to believe the Star Society is a front.”
Stieber offers the camera film back to her. “Complete the report. I want the names of all Communists, union members, and subversives,
confirmed or suspected, and all who attend her gatherings so final determinations can be made.” When she accepts the film,
he does not release it, so she meets his gaze. “You’ve done well, Mrs. Van Essen.”
In her shock, Ingrid almost forgets to thank him. She can’t remember the last time anyone from work complimented her so directly—if
anyone from work has ever complimented her at all. Now she has shown she is indeed a skilled private investigator. Most of
all, she has helped her sister.
Once the exclusive goes to print, surely both their careers will be safe.