Page 36 of The Rebel of Seventh Avenue
Six weeks later, Netta, Annina and I were surrounded by packing crates in the living area of the Laurel Canyon house: boxes and packing paper, piles of crockery and paintings, bags of fabric and a tower of hat boxes. We were preparing to leave Los Angeles and return to New York, Hollywood now tainted by Mr Finerman. It was time to return to normality.
I stood amongst the chaos, chain-smoking, a habit I hadn’t been able to break since the night of the party. ‘This seems never-ending,’ I moaned.
‘Good morning, my fair chickens!’ Aidan chirruped as he burst into the room.
‘You’re a little too cheerful,’ I said, although it was a relief to feel some happiness with the last few weeks having been joyless and bleak, feeling as though we’d failed Annina, failed our time in Hollywood.
He slapped a newspaper down on the coffee table, a large red ring hastily drawn around a small article.
‘Our revenge has been enacted,’ he crowed. ‘Mr Finerman is done for.’
Annina frowned but put down the ornament she was wrapping and moved over to the table. She picked up the paper. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, my darling girl.’ Aidan took the paper from her. ‘Nobody gets to treat my Nina in that way. Nobody, but nobody . So, I have it on good authority that Mr Harold Finerman will never work in this town again. Here, let me read this:
Charges have been filed against Harold Finerman, the much-lauded Hollywood producer, in connection with the attempted assault of an unnamed, young movie starlet at the Beverly Hills Hotel. According to sources at the hotel, Mr Finerman was discovered in a compromising position by the girl’s mother. Mr Finerman is currently being held in jail whilst he awaits a hearing for bail.
A look of concern crossed Annina’s face. ‘Was the girl all right? She wasn’t hurt?’
Aidan patted her shoulder lightly. ‘Don’t you worry, I made sure the whole sting was planned down to the very second her mother arrived.
‘Maisie spent weeks making a dress she knew that Finerman wouldn’t be able to resist, a shimmering dress of alternating black and white shaped sections, clinging and leaving nothing to the imagination. She told me that the black and white symbolised the good and the bad, the white being the dominant colour. Who’d have thought Maisie would be putting oblique messaging in her work?’
‘But was the girl all right?’ Annina insisted.
‘Please my darling, not a hair was harmed on our little starlet’s body. He didn’t have a chance to get anywhere near her. Just the very implication of being alone, unchaperoned, in a bedroom with that young girl and a half-drunk bottle of whiskey was enough to send the mother wild, shrieking through the grounds of the hotel, chasing him with her not insubstantial handbag.’ A look of mischief. ‘And it may just have been a coincidence that the Times’s Read Kendall was in the Polo Lounge whilst this was all going on, where he had a prime view of Mr Finerman’s not inconsequential beating.’ He let slip a girlish giggle. ‘Oh, and he just might have had a photographer with him, just to make sure there was photographic evidence.’
Annina took the copy of the Los Angeles Times from Aidan and re-read the article. I looked at Netta and we both held our breath. There was silence as we watched a slow but cautious smile spread across her face. The first smile we seen since before the fireworks at our party.