Dazzle The Complete Unabridged Trilogy (101 page)

The two lawyers departed swiftly. Like a blind woman,
Tamara stumbled toward the nearest couch, felt it, and then
carefully sank down into it. She was shaking so badly that her
teeth were chattering. Would this nightmare never end? Was
this the legacy she was to be left by her dead husband?

Tamara lowered her hands, raised her head, and sat there
stiffly. 'Inge, call the Beverly Hills Hotel,' she said shakily.
'See if they have a bungalow available for us. Then pack what
we'll need. Two suitcases will do for now.'

Inge stood her ground stubbornly. 'You cannot let that
witch get away with it!'

'Inge, please do as I say,' Tamara breathed wearily. 'I don't
want to spend another night in this place.' She glanced around
the room and shuddered. 'I never liked it much anyway. It
reminds me too much of a mausoleum.'

They were about to leave when Tamara took one more look back at the living room from the foyer. 'We forgot something,'
she said, her grief finally turning to purposeful anger.

'What?' Inge wanted to know.

'Come on, I need your help.' Heels clicking sharply, Tamara
marched across the travertine and plopped herself down on
one of the long white couches placed along the walls. She
started to take off a shoe.

'What are you doing?' Inge asked, mystified.

Tamara looked at the sleek black pump in her hand and
began to laugh, mirthlessly. 'You're right,' she said, slipping it back on her foot. 'They're not my smudges now, they're Zelda's. Let her get the cleaning bill.' She climbed up on the soft white sofa cushions and signalled for Inge to climb up beside her. Still mystified, Inge did as she was told. When
Tamara grabbed one side of the large gilt-framed Toulouse-Lautrec painting hanging over the sofa, she didn't have to be
told any more. She grabbed the other side, and grunting, they
managed to lift it off the hook and carry it out to the foyer.
The ornate carved and gilded frame weighed a good sixty
pounds.

'We can do this?' Inge, with her typical middle-class fear of
courts and lawyers, asked in an astonished voice. 'After what
the man tell you?'

'Watch me do it,' Tamara said grimly. 'If Zelda tries to get
her greedy little paws on these, she's got a fight on her hands.
They're mine, and I can prove it. Louie gave me one of these
for each of our wedding anniversaries, six in all. All the colum
nists reported the paintings I got from Louie as presents. As
far as I'm concerned, that constitutes proof of ownership.'

For the first time in three days, Inge almost smiled as they
went methodically around the room, lifting the other five
paintings off the walls.

'There,' Tamara said after they'd leaned them against the
walls in the foyer. She clapped the dust off her hands. 'You're looking at money in the bank. Louie always said they were as
good as cash. Now, get Esperanza and the chauffeur in here.
They can help us lug these out to the car. Which reminds me.
Don't let me forget to call those laywers. All the cars except
for the Duesenberg are registered to me.'

Only later, in the limousine on the way to the hotel, did it
occur to Tamara that when the lawyers had addressed her as
'Mrs. Ziolko', it was the very first time since her marriage that
she had been called by her married name.

Chapter 20

Oscar Skolnik hit the roof. 'Retire!' he thundered. 'What do
you mean, retire?' He glared malevolently at Tamara. 'You're
at the top of the world! Stars don't retire, damn it!'

The two of them were sitting alone amid the staggering
luxury of his living room, the very room where she had first
met him seven years earlier. This time the gleaming antiques,
fine paintings, and glittering
objets
did not intimidate her in
the least.

She drew a deep breath and her jaw tightened perceptibly.
'I want out, O.T.,' she repeated firmly.

He threw himself back in his chair, the fingers of both hands
working themselves up to a silent piano crescendo on the
leather arms. He stared at her and puffed steadily on a carved
ivory pipe, and when he spoke, he removed the pipe from
between his lips. His voice was quiet. 'What are you trying to
pull?' His bright blue eyes stared into hers.

She raised her chin. 'I'm not trying to
pull
anything. I told
you, I'm finished with making movies. I've had it with Holly
wood. Isn't that good enough for you?'

'No, it's not.' He leaned forward. 'What I want to know is,
why isn't Morty Hirschbaum doing your bidding for you? He's
your agent.'

'I don't see what he's got to do with it. I'm not trying to
renegotiate a contract. I just wanted to tell you in person what
my plans are.'

He smiled suddenly. 'Now I get it. The little midget put you
up to it. Thought he could put the squeeze on me by having
you come waltzing in and frightening me with the announce
ment of your retirement.' He shook his head. 'Tell him no dice. If he wants to negotiate, he should come and see me
instead of having his clients do the dirty work for him.'

Tamara was getting exasperated.
'
O.T., you've got it all
wrong. Morty has nothing to do with this. He doesn't even
know I'm here.'

'Clever.' He shook his head admiringly. 'I've got to hand it
to you. You've got a lot more sense than I gave you credit for.
You know, if you hadn't made it as an actress, you would've
made one hell of an agent.'

She stared at him. That he would refuse to accept the truth
for what it was had never entered her mind.

'So who was it?' Skolnik asked. 'Zanuck? Or L.B.? Or both?' His eyes glittered suspiciously. 'What did they offer
you to defect from IA?'

'Would you listen to me for once!' she yelled suddenly.

That did get through to him, she was gratified to see. His blue eyes blinked twice and he frowned slightly.

'Okay. Let's stop tap-dancing circles around each other and
get it over with.' He paused. 'Name your price.'

Emitting a little growl of exasperation, she grabbed her
purse and got to her feet. 'I see that I've been wasting my
time,' she said angrily. 'You can read all about it in Marilee's column tomorrow morning.' She started stalking across the
room to the door.

'Hey, hold on now!' He jumped out of his chair, caught up with her, and took her by the arm. 'What are you getting so worked up for?' He turned her round to face him.

'You. You simply refuse to listen to me.'

'I'm listening, I'm listening.' He placed a friendly hand on
each of her shoulders. 'Shoot. Let me have it, barrels blazing.'
He smiled good-naturedly.

In spite of herself, Tamara found herself returning his smile.
She couldn't stay angry with him for long, especially not when
he smiled so ingenuously. She let herself be led back to her
chair, and sat down.

'Now, why don't we start over again, shall we?'

She nodded, crossed one leg over the other, and reached
for a cigarette. He picked up a table lighter and leaned forward
to light it for her. She nodded her thanks and blew out a thin
streamer of smoke. 'I know I'm sounding like an ungrateful
child,' she said. 'You were nice to me after Louie died, and I appreciate the three weeks off you gave me so I could pull
myself together again. I know how expensive it must have
been to hold off filming my scenes, and I'll be forever grateful
to you.'

He shrugged his shoulders. 'Go on.'

'Well, since then I've completed
Fast Company
and made
Contrary Pleasures.
I don't think I have to point out to you
that there are only three weeks remaining on my contract. We
both know that that's not enough time in which to make a
movie.'

'True enough.' He nodded encouragingly.

'Then please hear me out,' she said quietly. 'I'm not playing
any games with you. Nor am I trying to renegotiate a better
contract or a higher salary. I have only one living relative left,
my father, and I want to spend time with him in Palestine. He
and I have a lifetime of catching up to do. And I want to travel,
see something of the world.'

'What it sounds like is you want a vacation.'

She shook her head. 'I don't want a vacation, I want out,'
she said stubbornly. 'I've fulfilled my seven-year contract.
Now I want to spend some years like ordinary people spend
theirs.'

'Tamara, Tamara.' His smile was at once chiding and sad.
'Don't you realize that you are far too talented to ever be
ordinary? You're a fine actress and a spectacularly beautiful
woman. No matter where you go or what you do, you'll always
stand out from the crowd. You're blessed—or cursed. Take
your choice. With special God-given talent. It would be a
shame to let it go to waste.'

'Be that as it may, I have to give it a try, O.T. I don't want to grow old with a crystal chandelier and a closet full of fur
coats. I don't want to become an embittered old woman harp
ing back on what I might have missed out on in life.'

'You're obviously still hurting badly from what happened
to Louie,' he said gently. 'Could it be you've become fed up
with Hollywood because you somehow blame the city, or the
industry, for his death?'

'No. At first I thought that's what it was too, but it isn't.
Call me jaded, call me what you will, but I'm just plain tired
of playing movie star. I can't do it anymore.'

'You'll miss it,' he warned. 'Everyone who has once been a star misses it. Look at all the silent stars who couldn't make it because of their voices. They hate not being part of the industry anymore. They'd give anything—hell, both their legs—to
be back where they once were.'