Screen Secrets, part 1

   Minerva Mallen marched down the hallway of the studio, a paper-wrapped cardboard box tucked under her arm. She was headed for the Boss's office, so deep in mulling over how to bring up the issue on her mind that she walked right by Sally and went directly into the office without invitation. Inside the office, the Boss was chatting with Beverly and Jeannie. It was time for the Baxter sisters to do another short as a team, so the girls were running through script ideas from the story department. The three of them looked up as Minerva unceremoniously burst into the room. Suddenly realizing what she'd done, Minerva had stopped in the doorway. Sally had jumped up from her desk and was now standing directly behind Minnie. Before Sal could say anything, the Boss began to step around his desk.

   "Is something wrong, Minnie?" The Boss had a very comforting voice, a commanding voice like Gerald Mohr. He was a dashing man, too, once an actor himself. It'd been a long time since anyone actually called him by name, though, as everybody had started calling him "Boss" when he founded the studio back in '38. The title stuck. Although it was more an affectionate term than anything else, it was a true label and everyone looked to him with great respect. So much so that Minerva was still a little embarrassed by her forwardness, but she collected her thoughts and held up the package.

   "There's something I think you should see, Boss. I just found these at the news stand across from the gate. I bought every copy."

   All attention in the room now focused on the box Minerva handed to the Boss. He pulled the paper off and opened the box to find a stack of magazines. It was a new title, SCREEN SECRETS. Minerva was the subject of the cover photo, and at the bottom was a headline alerting the reader to the "true" story of The Secret Life of Minerva Mallen. It was a cheaply-printed rag, newsprint behind a black and white cover which had been modified from a cover Minerva had posed for a reputable magazine which had gone on sale only a month before.

   "Pretty sloppy work." The Boss looked at Minerva. "Fan magazine of some kind?"

   "I don't think so," Minerva opened the book to a center spread, "at least not the kind of fans we're used to. Look." There was a collective gasp as everyone in the room could see a two-page spread of Minerva in the buff. "I never took that photo! You KNOW I never took that photo!"

   The Boss paced the room as he examined the shot. Minerva stood by, her ivory complexion shaded red in embarrassment. Beverly placed a sympathetic hand on Minnie's shoulder. They all knew Minerva hadn't taken such a photo. She couldn't. At once, the Baxters figured exactly the same thing as what the Boss was thinking as he studied the spread.

   "I think," the Boss looked closely, "this was drawn over a real photograph. Only the background is real. What's supposed to be you is just a drawing."

   "Yes," Minerva said, "but with my being an annie, a drawing looks like the real thing. And I'm not the only one they did this to. There are fakes of Daisy, Sugar, and Misty, and Beverly and Jeannie in this book." Beverly now turned red as Jeannie snapped up another copy and searched the pages. Indeed, there was a photo section of the Baxter sisters which depicted them by the studio pool -wearing only their birthday suits. Beverly leaned in next to Jeannie. Both were stunned.

   "Who would do something like this?" Jeannie asked. Beverly's response was slightly different as she pointed to one of the photos.

   "That's not even what I look like there!"

   "Alright, alright," the Boss held up his hand as he closed the book he was holding, "these were obviously done without any of you knowing it. This is a cheap rag, it can't have much of a circulation. Minerva, did you ask Gus how many of these he had sold?"

   "He told me I was the first one to buy a copy. Like I said, I grabbed all of them. And he said something else. He never ordered the title. It was just on the truck today, but the package was addressed to him. He put a copy on the top rack just in case it was something one of us had arranged. Thank goodness he didn't bother to actually flip through it."

   "Okay, we have to find out who did this and how many copies they made." The Boss opened the first page and searched for the printer's information. There was nothing to go on but a copyright block for Headliner Publishing. No address, which was pretty odd. "Sally, get on the horn and find out where Headliner Publishing is located. We'll go straight to the source and get to the bottom of this. In the meantime, we'll keep these copies from getting out. Oh, and call Daisy and Sugar in here. Misty, too. They'll want to know."

   "Right, Boss." Sally marched back to her desk.

   "These shots of us were taken by Steve," Jeannie offered, "at least, the shots that were drawn over by whoever did this."

   "That's right," Beverly confirmed as she pointed to the main photo, "I remember this shoot. We were wearing bikinis."

   "You don't think Steve had anything to do with this?" Minerva was shocked by the implication.

   "Of course not," Jeannie made clear, "his work is on public record. Whoever did this must've bought as many shots of us as they could from a legitimate photo shop, then edited them with ink and paint."

   "And sadly," Beverly frowned, "they did a really good job."

   "My point is," Jeannie went on, "whoever did this has some skill. Maybe Steve would know who, or how to find out who."

   Moments later, Steve was in the office inspecting an issue. Sugar, her husband Henry, and Daisy were flipping through another issue. Ed and Misty were speechless as they poured over yet another issue open on the Boss's desk. Minerva sat on the couch next to Beverly and Jeannie.

   "This could ruin us," Beverly moaned, "we have a lot of kids in our fanbase."

   "They're not going to get away with this," Minerva assured Beverly, "not without a fight."

   "Let's be realistic about this," Jeannie held up a copy, "anybody who can draw can ruin us with something like this. Maybe it's our own doing. Once annies could be accepted as glamor figures, it was inevitable that someone with bad taste might take it to this extreme."

   "All we did was present what was already there," the Boss insisted, "we didn't create anything new. Off screen, you girls are already glamorous. The only thing C.B.I.P. has done is to show you girls as you really are. The creep who did this didn't need us to think of this. There've been annies who dabbled in dirty pix, and there was a market for those photos. You can't blame yourself for being beautiful, Jean. This is entirely on whoever thinks so little of you as to present you this way."

   "I gotta admit," Henry spoke quietly to his wife, "they did a pretty good job on you. I don't know how they got the details right, but they did." Sugar had noted that, too.

   "Have we been spied on, Henry?"

   "What can we do about this?" Daisy fumed.  Ed was fuming, too. He dared not speak, for if he did all that would escape his lips would be an angry growl. Misty looked like she'd topple over if she let go of the desk. Yes, any pretty girl gets used to the fact that someone out there is only going to think of her this way, but seeing it actually in print was disturbing. Sally walked back in and gave a sheet of paper to the Boss.

   "I got the line on Headliner Publishing. It's a small outfit, a newer one, based in Amsterville."

   "Amsterville is a good-sized city," the Boss noted as he studied the address, "even if they haven't printed a lot of issues, they could have already sold enough to make it impossible to track all the copies down."

   "Best case scenario," Steve said, "these guys are interested in money. They could print up a few issues, make sure we were the ones to see it first, and then blackmail us to make sure nobody else does. They might think they can make more money by prying it out of us than to sell this trash."

   "How do you figure that theory, Steve?" Henry asked.

   "Because it showed up at Gus's news stand in Creek Bend before any of us heard about it any other way. Even with the studio here, the town itself is still subject to the normal delays caused by rural shipping. This rag should have been in L.A. a month before we ever heard of it. And more to the point, look at the girls chosen for this issue. I don't think it coincidence that the women in this room just happen to be the highest paid annie stars the studio has."

   "He's right," Daisy stammered, "a few copies of this book would be peanuts compared to what we might pay to keep it from getting out there. And if we refused the payoff, they could turn right around and sell what they have to a publisher willing to run with it!"

   Ed Carter could only scowl as he sat quietly in the Boss's chair. He glanced back down at the book, then noticed something he hadn't before. He turned the book slightly and looked intently at the page. Misty noticed.

   "What is it, Ed?"

   "We've been so upset about the pictures that we completely overlooked the text," Ed held up the open page, "look at this, gang. The first letter of each line spells out another sentence if you read it straight up and down like a crossword puzzle. There must be a message here we're supposed to see."

   "I thought the text was sort of rambling and incoherent," Daisy spoke up, "I just figured whoever did this wasn't a very good writer."

   "They may be sharper than they look," the Boss inspected a page and then moved back to his desk, "there's a message here, alright. Sally, get me a piece of paper." The group was soon huddled over the Boss as he scanned each page and jotted down the wording created by the first letters along the side of the pages. Soon enough, there was a full message to read. The Boss sat back in his chair and looked over what he'd written. He read the letter aloud.

   "Attention C.B.I.P. The plates for this book are standing by, ready to be used for mass publication for under-the-counter markets. In addition, we have intimate photos taken of certain of your stars without their knowing. Hot stuff you wouldn't want to get out. Any legal action is negated by the fact that the photos in this issue are fakes. They can still damage you, and the real photos we've taken can do even more harm to some of your stars. To prevent this, we will exchange the magazine plates, our spare copies, the candid photos and all negatives for a sum of five million dollars. Any police involvement in this matter will result in the materials mentioned being sent instead immediately to the newspapers as well as into publication. Five million dollars in cash must be given by the studio head and the following stars, to be boxed and dropped off at specified locations which will be given to you after we have learned of your discovery of this message. Misty Carter, Minerva Mallen, Daisy Poise, Sugar Chestnut, Beverly Baxter, and Jeannie Baxter must co-operate or their careers will be ruined. Mrs. Carter and Mrs. Chestnut in particular would be most interested in getting back the photos we have, as would their respective husbands. Have Beverly Baxter call the number listed in the last page ad which features her face, and she will receive further instructions."

   Sugar tried to hide her face in Henry's shoulder. "Now we know how they got the details right, Henry. Heaven only knows what they've got pictures of!" Henry tried to keep his cool, but he felt like he was about to explode. Ed exploded for him, bellowing as he threw a copy of the magazine across the room.

   "What kind of animals are these people?!! What sick mind dreams up something like this?!! I know, it's all about the money, but how low can a man get to piece together a plot like this?!"

   "You know exactly how low man can get," the Boss was every bit as steamed, but he tried to keep his composure as he got increasingly passionate, "you and Henry and a million other guys. You fought a war against it. This situation is different, admittedly, but there are similar reasons why this is so rankling. It's inhumanity. People we know and love are being targeted by someone who doesn't know them from Adam. Our dear friends. Wives. You're upset for the same reason I am, Ed. We feel helpless because we couldn't prevent this from happening to our loved ones, people we feel should be able to trust us to keep things like this away from them BECAUSE we love them." He took a breath. "We know how sick some men can get. It goes all through history. For the moment, it looks like they have us over a barrel. We either pay them off or... Or we hurt some very dear friends. We can assemble the money. But we know we're dealing with dishonest men. We have no reason to expect that they'll live up to their own terms."

   "So what do we do?" Ed leaned forward, resting his hands on the front of the desk.

   "The first thing we do is not to lose faith. We're never alone in our battles. Keeping that in mind, we think this thing through. Now, we're not to bring in the police. Whoever did this may know if we call the authorities. They've shown an awareness of the way things work around here. They knew about Gus, the delivery truck, even the fact that Minerva is usually the first to talk to Gus when the new copies arrive." The Boss leaned back into his chair again, this time wearing an expression of dawning awareness. It was an awareness shared by the others. None of them wanted to admit what they were thinking, but it was unavoidable. 

   "This was an inside job," Minerva gasped, "or they've got a man on the inside."

   "Spy tactics," Henry thought aloud, "makes me wonder if there's something more here than just extortion. Five mil is a lot of cabbage. But it's a small enough amount that the lot of us could pull it together. And if we pay off, they'll just do it again. They may be working an angle to make for long-term funding."

   "Of what?" Minerva asked. Henry took a breath and looked at the others.

   "Are we being blackmailed, or are we being used as a bank? They've figured all the angles, they seem to have a man inside. We may be onto something much bigger than we think. We know what the reds are up to, the way they're digging into Hollywood. This whole scheme may just be part of an espionage ring's financing. Blackmail funds a lot of their activities. Think about it."

   "I am thinking about it," Daisy felt sick, "and it makes perfect sense. I helped HUAC crack a spy ring in Hollywood, as you all know. This very sort of thing was one of the ways that ring funded it's operations. I'm not saying it IS spies, mind you, but if it is, that casts a whole new light on the situation. Do we think of protecting ourselves, or the country? We pay off and we fund sabotage, subversion, and who knows what else. If we call in the authorities... Our careers, our lives, would be damaged. Maybe not forever, but the immediate future would be pretty bleak. But that's us. There may be much more at stake here than our minor concerns."

   "She's right," Jeannie said, "if this is a bigger plot, we can't let it stay on track. We need the authorities to look into this."

   "Jeannie," Beverly placed a hand on Jean's shoulder, "I know what you're saying, but what if we're wrong and it IS just a blackmail scheme."

   "You pay a blackmailer off and they just do it again. We can't meet their demands either way."

   "Maybe we can run down the photos," Steve offered, "unless we're on some sort of time limit. I took most of the photos that form the base of these spreads. I'm seeing some shots that didn't make it out of the publicity department."

   "What?" Misty gasped. Steve flipped through the issue he was holding and presented a page to the group.

   "I noticed it here, the shots of Bev and Jean. Now, a photoshoot produces a lot of similar poses, but only the best shots make it to the public. Now these are similar to the shots which we're familiar with, and I admit they've been altered, but I think this shot here is one of the rejects."

   Jeannie looked intently at the page, then back to Steve. "Someone in the publicity department gave them these photos?"

    "It certainly looks like it." Steve turned to Misty. "I think one of yours is the same thing."

   "The spies are still theoretical at this point," the Boss noted, "but we do seem to at least have someone at the studio working with Headliner Publishing. How do we look into them without tipping them off? How do we get our hands on him to make him tell us what we're really up against?"

   "Well," Steve lit a cigarette, "it's not like we're dealing with classified materials here. Anyone who knows what to look for can dig through the files and find these pix. They'd have to make more than one trip, I'm sure, so it would be somebody who wouldn't call attention to themselves while in the publicity department. Someone who also might be looking for the moment when all of you girls are in here together... Someone who may've already contacted their superiors and told them to stand by for Beverly's call. We may have a time limit after all."

   "The message said nothing about when to make the call," the Boss scanned the notes he'd taken, "something to take into account is that spies tend to think that they're smarter than everybody else because they're privy to information nobody else has. Same thing with crooks. Blackmailers assume they're smarter than the people they're blackmailing. They may not expect us to figure out the code right away."

   "What would they expect?" Minerva asked.

   "I think they expected us to get upset," the Boss mulled things over, "we'd meet like this, try to comfort each other, then we'd probably take the magazines home with us. They might not expect us to find the code until later tonight, when we'd all be sulking. We've probably got about twenty-four hours leeway I'd figure."

   "Okay." Henry said. "We have a little time, how do we use it? How do we get ahead of these creeps?"

   There was a long silence.

TO BE CONTINUED...