Countess Dracula (2 page)

‘Doesn’t seem like I have much choice,’ she replied, glancing around in obvious displeasure. ‘My name’s Margaret Riggers and this is my husband Tony. We’re visiting from Colorado where my husband runs an extremely successful car-hire agency.’

‘All the way from the mountains!’ laughed Leo. ‘Glad you’re with us.’ He looked at the next couple, a diminutive pair dressed in outfits that seemed to be colour-coded, a vision in taupe and cream.

‘My name’s Jerry,’ the husband announced in a cheerful Southern accent, ‘and this is my wife Vonda. We actually won our trip here on an episode of
Celebrity Shuffle
!’

Vonda couldn’t have been more proud of him for having brought up the subject. ‘We beat Al Lewis with a pair of queens!’

Leo could have done without the mental picture this conjured. ‘You card sharks, you! Remind me not to get in a game while we’re on our travels.’

‘We’d have the shirt off your back!’ Jerry promised.

Leo was pleased to notice this made Cheryl giggle. ‘In this heat I just might let you!’ He looked at the elderly man who had placed himself right at the back, head down as if embarrassed even to be on board. ‘And you are?’

‘Eager to get going,’ came the quiet reply. The old man looked up and Leo was struck by the colour of his eyes: they were the palest, most striking blue he had ever seen. Although he might have aged, this guy had once been a player in his day, that was for sure.

Once it was clear that nobody was going to ignore him, the old man sighed. ‘Gary Holdaway.’

‘Pleasure to have you with us, Mr Holdaway,’ said Leo. ‘Well, then,’ he said, ‘all that remains is for me to introduce your driver, Roland Johns –’ Roland gave a casual wave from his seat. ‘– and we’ll be on our way.’

Roland pulled out into the traffic, relying on the philosophy of bus drivers everywhere: ‘Nobody wants to screw with you when you’re this damn big.’ The manoeuvre made Margaret Riggers gasp but they got into a lane without colliding with anything. Leo launched into his script, a warmed-over rehash of Kenneth Anger’s
Hollywood Babylon
with a few extra invented tales thrown in. Nobody cared about facts, they just wanted gossip.

‘What does “prodigious” mean?’ Cheryl asked him when he alluded to the legendary manhood of Errol Flynn. Leo would have showed her if only he could.

They headed up into the hills, with Leo pointing out one-time homes of the barely remembered in this most forgetful of industries.

‘Of course,’ he said, filling a gap in the procession of sights, ‘it’s worth remembering that Hollywood was built out of nothing. The first studios only came out here because they were avoiding the legal minefield created by Thomas Edison who sued anyone he considered was illegally using the technology that he had invented.

‘All of this was nothing but dirt and farms, wide-open spaces waiting for the movies to come and make their mark on them. In 1900 it was a small town – a hotel, a main street and a boxcar line into Los Angeles. A two-hour journey through the vineyards and orchards. But Hollywood builds its legends quickly. It grew and grew until Los Angeles and it met, the larger city swallowing the smaller and making the place its own.

‘The most iconic presence of all, the Hollywood sign, was originally built to advertise a chunk of real estate.
Hollywood Land
. The name came from something overheard on a train journey, describing someone’s Florida holiday home.

‘Legends. Born quickly, built in a frenzy and then left to bloom. Much like the legends that surrounded the actors that would earn their fame here. Some of the performers came from the theatre, many were no more than hopefuls, faces that fit. Flooding in from all corners of the globe, the studios would take them and embellish them, give them their legend. Let them soar.’

‘Stop the bus!’ shouted Holdaway, moving with a speed that was clearly beyond his age, swaying at the rail as he stood up and looked beyond the road.

Roland, out of panic, did just that. He swerved to the shoulder, a roar of car horns washing over them as the vehicle screeched to a halt.

All the passengers fell forward and Leo tumbled onto his back in the centre aisle. There was an amplified curse, then a whine of feedback as the microphone left his hand and collided with the speaker.

‘What the fuck?’ he shouted, more at Roland than at the old man who had fallen against the back of the seat in front and got himself wedged between the two.

‘There’s no need for that!’ insisted Margaret Riggers, though whether she meant Leo’s language or the emergency stop nobody could be sure.

‘I thought there was something wrong,’ said Roland, looking around in confusion and embarrassment. ‘Did I hit something?’

Nobody bothered to answer him, all of them too concerned with themselves. Vonda had let go of her capacious purse and was shuffling around on her hands and knees trying to gather up her belongings. Crushed tissues like sickly roses, mascara stick, loose change, hairbrush and confectionery wrappers, all hoovered back into place before anyone else could comment on them.

‘I think I have whiplash,’ Margaret Riggers was insisting. ‘You’d better hope you have good insurance cover, Mr Hollywood, or you’ll be in hock to me for the rest of your life.’

Leo chose to ignore the threat for now, his attention on the old man who was pulling himself upright and looking out across the road.

‘Why did you shout?’ Leo asked him. ‘What was the problem?’

‘Her house,’ Holdaway insisted. ‘You were going right past her house.’

‘Whose house?’

Leo rubbed the back of his head where he was pretty sure a bruise was building that would be big enough to need a hat of its own. He walked over to Holdaway who was still staring off between the palm trees.

‘Elizabeth,’ the old man said, his tone wistful, as if he was discussing someone lost.

‘Elizabeth?’

Holdaway looked at Leo and those beautiful eyes had disbelief in them. ‘You must remember her – she lived just there.’

Leo swallowed a little ball of panic. He hated being caught out in his lack of knowledge, it was the sort of thing that lost an audience in a heartbeat. Of course, he wasn’t an expert: the history of this mad town was just too sprawling and the family tree of stardom spread its branches wide. He played for time.

‘There are a lot of Elizabeths,’ he said, though his mental count was still coming up short. ‘Elizabeth who?’

Holdaway’s disbelief turned into sadness. ‘Legends soar, isn’t that what you said?’ He looked away again and Leo stared in the same direction. Beyond the trees he saw a road cutting further up through the hills before sinking away into a valley. The barest glint of sun on glass caught his eye. There was certainly some kind of residence up there, though it didn’t belong to anyone he knew from his scant research.

‘They crash all too easily, too,’ continued Holdaway. ‘Elizabeth Sasdy. Once a queen of this town, adored by all. Now you don’t even remember her.’

Leo didn’t, but he wasn’t going to admit it easily. ‘Elizabeth Sasdy? She lived up there?’

There was a rustle of paper from behind him as Brandi worked her way through her book.

‘Elizabeth Sasdy,’ she said, stumbling slightly over the surname. ‘Born Nadasdy, Hungary, 1885. Silent-movie actress …’ She looked up in confusion. ‘Silent? She never said anything?’

‘It means the movies were silent,’ said Leo with a sigh, though in truth he was glad to have the opportunity to talk from a position of knowledge. ‘All movies were silent – or mostly silent – until the late 1920s.’

Brandi laughed. ‘They can’t have been much good, then! I knew that they didn’t have colour all those years ago but who knew they couldn’t even speak either?’

Cheryl laughed along with her.

‘Some of the all-time classics of cinema were silent,’ said Leo, ‘Griffith’s
Birth of a Nation
…’

‘Tedious,’ said Holdaway, his attention back with them. ‘Not a patch on Elizabeth’s greatest works.’

‘You’re obviously quite a fan,’ said Leo. He smiled, hoping that he could get the old man onside through a little flattery.

‘I was, but not just that. I worked with her …’

Leo’s mood picked up – it just might be that this trip could be turned around after all. ‘You worked with her?’

‘On a couple of pictures.’ Holdaway looked over at Brandi and Cheryl. ‘Though you sure won’t find me in that book of yours. My career never really took off. Not like hers.’

Leo made a snap decision. ‘You want we should go take a look at the old place?’ he suggested. ‘You could maybe even relive a few memories for us.’

Holdaway looked at him for a moment and then smiled. ‘You like the idea of a guest star, huh?’ he asked. Then he nodded. ‘What the hell. I’ll tell you what I remember but I can’t promise you’ll like all of it. Elizabeth was … well, she had a reputation. They called her the Countess, because of her accent, but the things she got up to in that place …’

Leo didn’t need to hear more. He knew what his audiences liked, the sleazier the better. ‘Roland, get over there.’ He held out his arm to Holdaway. ‘You maybe want to sit up front so you can tell him the way?’

‘Does this mean we’re going to skip Kirk Douglas’s place?’ moaned Vonda. ‘I really wanted to see him.’

‘Just a little detour,’ said Leo. ‘A special bonus, some first-hand Hollywood history.’

‘I can manage,’ Holdaway insisted, pushing past Leo and settling down next to Roland.

‘I’ll have to go on a little way,’ the driver explained, ‘and switch direction at the bridge.’

‘Probably making it up as he goes along,’ said Margaret Riggers. ‘I don’t believe a word of it.’

Maybe not, thought Leo, but at least it’s shut you up about litigation.

It took them five minutes to change direction but then they were off the main strip and heading into the hills. It occurred to Leo that the old house was bound to have new occupants and he hoped there was somewhere they could park and get a good view without having to deal with overeager security personnel.

He needn’t have worried. Once they had climbed a short distance Holdaway directed Roland down into the valley and soon the house was ahead of them. If it had any new occupants they hadn’t yet made their presence felt. As Leo and his group descended towards the building they had an aerial view of the place and the closer they got the more its run-down state became clear.

It had been built in the Spanish style but its white walls had turned smoker’s-teeth yellow and its orange tiles were cracked and thick with moss. The central courtyard, which had once been laid out to perfection, was now no more than a chaos of bougainvillea, palm leaves and oleander. A driveway, openly accessible because the pair of wrought-iron gates that should have given it privacy had swung wide and rusted in place, was a minefield of potholes and weeds, grass bursting forth in sundried clumps all the way along it to the front door.

‘Oh, Elizabeth,’ said Holdaway, looking at the place, ‘your castle has fallen.’

‘The place is a dump,’ agreed Jerry, with an enthusiastic chuckle. ‘I wonder how much they want for it?’

‘You reckon we could take a peek?’ asked Vonda. ‘I don’t see that it’s trespassing, not with the gates open like that.’

Leo might have pointed out that just because someone left their door open didn’t mean that the law considered it fine to walk right in. But, looking at his passengers, he saw so much excited curiosity that he couldn’t help but pander to it. ‘Why not?’ he said. ‘After all, if Gary here was a friend …’

‘I was never that,’ said Holdaway, sitting back down. ‘Nobody was. But there’s no one here anyway, so who’s to tell?’

‘Let’s just get on with it,’ said Tony Riggers and Leo realised this was the first time he’d heard the man speak. It seemed to surprise his wife slightly, too. She glanced at him, perhaps remembering what his voice sounded like after all these years. ‘I want to be back in town on the outside of a cool Margarita, and the sooner we get this over with the sooner I’ll have salt on my lips.’

Roland looked at Leo, who nodded. Grinning, he selected first gear and took the bus slowly down the drive. Margaret was moaning again immediately the suspension took its first jolt as it navigated the potholes.

Leo looked to either side of the drive, seeing the thick grass choked with weeds, and wondered how somewhere like this could have been allowed to deteriorate so far. Surely a chunk of real estate like this should have been worth a fortune? He was as eager to hear about it from the old man as were the rest of his passengers: what had happened here that had marked the place out as a ruin?

Roland gave up two-thirds of the way towards the house, deciding that if they risked going along the driveway any further they might never get the bus back out again. ‘What say you all walk from here?’ he suggested. ‘I’ll turn the bus around.’

‘We have to walk?’ moaned Vonda, ‘I didn’t bring the right shoes.’

‘Maybe just take a quick look around,’ said Leo. ‘Shame not to explore after all – the home of a genuine star!’

‘Maybe you’ll buy this place!’ Cheryl joked with Brandi. ‘We could put in a pool.’

‘There used to be one,’ said Holdaway. ‘It’s probably full of toads now.’

They walked up to the front door, all of them staring at it for a moment before Tony Riggers took the bull by the horns. ‘Christ’s sake,’ he muttered, shoving at it with his shoulder.

The door swung open and its rusted hinges snapped. He was left holding it in his hands.

‘I think we can safely say that nobody’s been here for a few years,’ he said, leaning the detached door against the front wall. ‘So nobody’s likely to be coming along soon, either.’

‘Then what are we waiting for?’ asked Brandi. She and Cheryl laughed and ran inside the house.

Their voices echoed off the high ceiling of a massive entrance hall, a cylindrical room with a large stairway at the far end. The strange sense of abandonment continued inside. A Turkish rug took up the centre of the tiled floor, its colour faded, its weave frayed. It had an animal scent to it and Leo scowled. Clearly, local beasts had made the place their own and he hoped they weren’t going to come face to face with a pack of feral dogs in the dining hall.