Destiny takes a hand, p.3
Destiny Takes a Hand, page 3
“No......just trying to stay out of trouble. I was enjoying a real nice vacation until yesterday.”
“You don’t look any worse for wear and tear to me.” he said looking me over.
“Your paperwork seems to be getting a little heavy in this new job,” I said looking at his desk.
“You didn’t come here to talk about my paperwork, did you?”
“No, not really. I did want to see you though and was really planning to do that. But now, I do need a few things.” I said.
“How can I help......you know I’ll do whatever I can.”
“Well, there's these two people I need to have checked out. I don’t want to go to the police department, but you could because you do that all the time in this job and they know you. I don’t know too much about the assignment yet, because I just started it. But it is a big one. Does Weapons and Nevada, ring any bells?” I asked.
“Yeah......Yeah it does.” he said dismayingly. I’ll help you any way I can. You know that.”
“I have a number of a taxi cab and the time of a pick up at the Briardale Apartments. I’d like to know where the passenger got off.”
“Sure, I can take care of that. Anything else?”
“I have a photo of a man who was in the taxi and I thought your guys here could make an enlargement of it from the negative. Then, maybe run it through the police files downtown and see if anything turns up on him.”
“I can have them do the negative at the same time and make a copy of it for us. Let’s go down and see what we can come up with.” he said.
When we arrived at Police Headquarters, he handed the negative to a friend of his, telling us to come back in about thirty minutes. We drove around for awhile talking about old times and just reminiscing about other things. When we returned, the man handed us an envelope ...... We thanked him and left. Bill opened the envelope, removed the 8 x 10 photo and looked at it for a few seconds ...... then handed it to me.
“This man you’re tailing?” he asked in a profound tone.
“Yeah ...... that’s him alright,” I said nodding my head.
“Harry, we need to talk a little. Let’s go for a drive.”
Putting the photo back in its envelope, he sealed it, and put it in his briefcase in the back seat of the car.
“Where are we going?” I asked in a puzzling voice.
“To show you something.”
“What about the photo,” I asked. “Do you know who it is?”
“Yeah ..... I know who it is.”
“Well ...... who the hell is it?” I asked.
I followed him out the door and to the parking lot in the basement of the building. We drove toward the ocean and I kept looking at him, and he insisted that I wait for an answer in a little while. Stopping at a marina, we walked the full length of a pier, coming to a 30' cabin cruiser.
“How do you like her?” he asked.
“Say ...... that’s a real nice boat. Who’s is it?”
“Mine. I bought it two years ago from a guy who was trying to get out of debt. It was ten years old then, but in super shape, so I bought it for a song. I like fishing with the wife and kids and just cruising around. Sometimes we spend the weekend on it.”
“Sounds like a place where you can get away from it all and really relax.”
“Get in,” he said. “I’ll take you for a little spin.”
I stepped into the boat and helped him untie the docking lines. Starting the engines, he backed out of the dock and headed North up the coast. The boat had a flying bridge and I climbed up the ladder and sat down in a seat next to him. He was a pretty good skipper and handled the boat with expert authority.
“You see that resort over there with the beach in front of it?” he asked, pointing to it.
Nodding my head in the affirmative, I said, “That’s real nice.”
“That belongs to the man in your photo. It’s very exclusive and very private.”
About a half mile further up the coast, he pointed to a fleet of yachts at a marina, none of which looked under seventy or eighty feet long. A few even looked over a hundred. I counted seven, all under a large covered dock.
“Those are his too, along with the four to fill the empty slots next to them. They’re used for private cruises, complete with a crew.”
“I think you’re trying to tell me something,” I said.
“I guess I am. This man is not only wealthy, but he’s well known in the social and political circles. To top that off ...... he’s what they call in small towns ...... a pillar of the community. Always there when charity drives are being conducted and that sort of thing.”
“It doesn’t sound like anybody that would fit in with what I’m working on ...... at least not now.
“Who is he anyhow?” I asked.
“James Howard Mead.”
“Mead ...... Mead!” I said, trying to relate the name. I’ve heard of a Mead somewhere. I think he was running for a seat in the State Senate here in California, wasn’t he?
“That’s the one, but he didn’t make it,” he said. “This thing is ...... Harry, I don’t want to get into your business, but you’re going to have to be real careful with this thing. It could backfire on you.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” I said, sinking back in my seat.
I knew Bill was a dedicated individual and from our partnership also knew he would give up his job before giving into any political or other powers in conflict with his duties. I told him about Heinman and that it was important to know his every move we could put our hands on, as well as Mead’s business ventures.
Bill turned the boat around and headed for his marina, docked the boat and then drove back to the city. Arriving at his office, he noticed a note on his desk from one of his men he had sent out to get the information on the taxi.
“Looks like your taxi dropped Mead off at 5610 Ashford Way. Does that mean anything to you?” he asked.
Shaking my head from side to side in a negative movement, and taking the piece of paper in my hand, I read it and handed it back to him.
“Well, I guess I’ll take a run over there and see what it’s all about.”
“Hold on a minute. Let me do a little checking first.”
He picked up the cellular phone from his desk, and dialed a number. “Pete ...... what’s your location right now?” he asked. “O.K., how about swinging over to 5610 Ashford Way and tell me all about it. Let me know ASAP. Thanks Pete.”
Thirty minutes later, his phone rang. “Yeah ...... Yeah ...... Good, I’ve got it, and thanks again,” he said writing down the information.
“How about that ...... it belongs to Mead and it’s called Future Models, Inc.,” he said. “What’s your next move now, Harry?”
“I’ll have to think about it for awhile and see what I can come up with. Then wait for Heinman or Mead to lead me to the next move. Thanks for your help, including the tour. I really like your boat ...... Yacht ...... or whatever it’s called. I’ll be in touch.” I said.
“O.K., Harry. Anything you need ...... let me know.”
I had just turned the key in the door to my apartment and heard the phone ringing.
“Hello,” I said.
“Harry, this is Ross. I just got a call from Jerry. He wants me in Washington by tomorrow, to follow-up on another assignment. Sorry to run out on you, but he said you could handle it for awhile till I get through with this one.”
“Good old Jerry. Well, he warned me that I would be on my own most of the time. He wasn’t kidding. Have a good trip, Ross,” I said.
“I will. Go easy with this one, Harry. It doesn’t look like a picnic. See you later.”
Two days went by without anything happening to help me get any closer to what I needed. Then I got a call from an agent in Vegas. As it turned out, Jerry had Heinman tailed and I didn’t know it. Of course I’m glad it happened that way. The agent told me that Heinman was on his way back to L.A. I went to the same airport as before and waited for his arrival. As the plane came to a stop and the propellers ceased their rotating, a limousine pulled alongside. Not to my surprise, a young woman was with him. They stepped from the plane and I had just enough time to take a snapshot before they disappeared into the back seat of the big white car. Following them out the drive to the main road, I kept a safe distance and tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. There was evidently no hurry to get where they were going, because their car never exceeded 45 miles per hour at any time. They headed toward the beach area and turned onto a side road. The sign above the heavy gates read, “TIDEWATER RESORT” in large gold painted letters. In the lower corner was etched “J.H. Mead, Enterprises”. I drove past at medium speed and could see two guards opening the gates and motioning them through. I couldn’t see the cottages through the dense foliage and the entire resort was surrounded by a tall rot-iron fence. Looking around there now was not the thing to do, and I really wanted to get the film, developed to see what Heinman’s new girl looked like. I dropped off the film with Bill, and told him about Heinman returning from Vegas and going to the resort.
We had lunch at a small restaurant around the corner from his office and talked about the possibilities of Mead and Heinman’s business connection, if any, but couldn’t pin anything together. We picked up the photo's when we returned to his office. I had asked for an 8 X 10 of both Heinman and the girl separately. Heinman’s was on top and I glanced at it for a few seconds and then looked at the other one. The girls picture instantly took me back to Heinman’s apartment and the file folders. The face and the caption written on it were clearly in my memory, “HIRED”. I told him about Ross and I being there and not finding too much. But it paid off after all and every little bit helps.
“Anything with the girl?” he asked. You look like you know her, by the expression on your face.”
“No. I don’t know her, but she’s one of the girls in the pictures we found at Heinman’s, that I just told you about. I guess Heinman is hiring models for Mead.”
“So......! You can’t hang a man for hiring models.” he said.
“Maybe not, but I think there’s more to it than just modeling. Heinman is mixed up with commies and Mead just doesn’t seem innocent to me. There has to be some connection. I’ll work on it and try to find out what the hell’s going on here.”
I left his office and headed for my place smiling to myself, that I had a little something to go on. A start!
If I was going to get any worthwhile information, it would have to come from inside their operation. The only skill I had was cameras. But I didn’t know how much that meant to them. I suspected that they had professional camera bugs doing their work that were either hired on a permanent basis or freelance. It would be perfect if it were the permanent type. “It’d be worth a try, I thought to myself.” I’d need credentials as a photographer and a background history to use as a cover. Jerry could supply me with what I needed and would have to know what I was planning in case I screwed up. It would be the only way to get in there. I picked up the phone and dialed Jerry’s private number in Washington.
“Hello,” the voice said.
“Jerry, this is Harry.”
“I was just thinking about you,” he said. How’s that little matter coming along that we talked about the other day.”
“Fine for the moment,” I said.
“You having problems with the clients on the project?”
“No! Not really, but I think we should discuss it as soon as possible.”
“I’m coming to L.A. tomorrow. Can you meet me at the airport?”
“Sure......see you then.” I said.
I knew Jerry would provide the materials, and get involved if needed. The next day, I told him what I had found out so far, and of my plan to try and get a job with Mead’s company. I needed a cover story in case they wanted references about my qualifications as a photographer. Jerry approved the plan and handed me a business card that read, “GENERAL ENTERPRISES, INC., Los Angeles, California along with a phone number. The number was for my use only and no other agents had it, but the company was fictitious. Jerry would be in L.A. for about a month and would be available. During the next two days, I purchased the cameras and other equipment I needed, and started taking photos of everything, in all kinds of conditions. In the mean time, Jerry had procured photos of models and other scenes taken by a professional. Sort of a portfolio for me to use.
The next morning, I went to the offices of Future Models, Inc. The receptionist handed me an application to fill and asked that I take a seat. I watched her walk across the room, thinking that if she wasn’t a model, she should be. I kept watching until the part I was looking at, disappeared behind the desk as she sat down. “This must be a tough racket,” I thought to myself. Trying to concentrate on the application, I completed all the little boxes and gave a short synopsis for justification of the job and laid the form on her desk.
“Have a seat, please and I’ll tell Mr. Braxton you’re here,” she said smiling.
“Thank you,” I replied.
After a few minutes she returned, standing just outside the office door.
“You may go in now,” she said.
Braxton’s office was large and well furnished. The nameplate on his desk read “Robert Braxton, Manager”.
“I’m Bob Braxton,” he said, holding out his hand.
“Harry Silver.”
“Good to know you, Harry. Have a seat.”
“It just so happens that we are short a photographer right now. That’s why I wanted to interview you today. As a matter of fact, we were planning on putting out the word the first of the week.”
“Looks like I arrived just in time.” I said candidly.
“I see you have eight years experience as a freelancer. Do you have any of your work with you?”
I handed him the four envelopes that Jerry had prepared for me. He looked them over slowly and laid them out on the desk for a better view. He stood up and viewed them.
“These are very good; very good indeed.” he said.
We talked for about thirty minutes on different subjects in general and the usual questions were asked about my background and other things relating to the job to be done.
“I’m not one to beat around the bush. If I think you’re the right man for the job. I’ll say so. I’m going to hire you on a temporary basis and if you work out, we’ll put you in a permanent position. How does that sound to you?”
“That’ll be fine,” I answered.
“Can you start Monday morning, say at 9 o’clock?”
“I’ll be here.”
“One thing more......we’re all on a first name basis here, except of course for the bosses.”
“I appreciate your confidence in me,” I said.
“Always like to see a good man get ahead. See you Monday.”
I had the weekend to get acquainted with the new cameras and accessories and I found myself taking roll after roll of film and noting each shot on paper, so I could check them after development. Late Sunday afternoon, I dropped the film off at a one hour processing lab. Viewing them with a 35mm projector, I was amazed at how good they turned out. I was as ready as I was going to get.
Armed with the cameras, I entered the outer office next morning. After being accepted for the job, I was anxious to get started. I smiled and was greeted by the secretary. She brought me a cup of coffee and again I watched her all the way back to her desk.
“Mr. Braxton said for you to wait here and he’ll be with you shortly.”
“Have you been here long?” I asked.
“Only a month. I was hoping for a modeling job as soon as one became available.”
“You shouldn’t have any trouble with that,” I said matter-of-factly.
The buzzer sounded on her desk and she glanced my way, and then hung up the receiver.
“You may go in now.”
“Well......here goes nothing.” I said with a deep breath.
The usual “Good Mornings” transpired between us and then he settled back in his chair.
“You’ll need to know something about how we operate and what part you’ll be responsible for.”
He told me that the company employed thirty models regularly, and each photographer has ten assigned to him. Some of the work is accomplished in the studios, but most of it is on location. I’d be working with one of the other photographers for a couple of weeks, and then be on my own. A tour of the studios came next and each were large, well equipped with backgrounds and other props. After the tour, he opened the door to Studio Three and said it would be assigned to me. I was to get acquainted with the equipment and that Mike Shields would be the one I’d be working with. For the next two weeks, he showed me what types of shots the company required and by the third week Braxton told me he was satisfied and wanted me on my own.
3
DESTINY TAKES A HAND
I limited my questions to the work to be accomplished around the studio. Since the assignments were no more than three mornings or afternoons a week, my free time was plentiful. Braxton planned the work schedule, but I guessed that Heinman and Mead gave the final instructions on what they wanted. Before the first job began, Braxton called me into his office.
“Now that you’re on the payroll regularly, I can tell you more about the company and what you’ll be doing. We have modeling trips to New York, Washington, D.C., Miami, London and, of course, Paris. All the models work out of one office; FUTURE MODELS, INC. and we don’t usually hire freelance ones. Any new models are hired by Mr. Heinman, after he checks them out and if they meet his requirements. He usually hires them from Las Vegas, and most are chorus girls who want a change from the show biz routine for a while. Some of them have had modeling experience, and some don’t. We can train them for what we need them to do. Anyway, you’ll be expected to go to the different locations I mentioned, and come back with the completed history of the fashion shows. Usually you’ll have enough free time to do what you want after the four or five hours of the shows. We expect you to be on the job when you’re supposed to be. The first one we have for you is right here in L.A., at the Tidewater Resort. It’s owned by Mr. Mead and is an ideal place for this business. Everything you need will be there by the time you arrive. I have it scheduled for tomorrow at 2 o’clock. Any questions?” he asked.
