Black Dahlia & White Rose: Stories Read Online Free PDF Page A

my neck the black “pearls” Mr. Hansen gave me—& my black patent-leather shoes & silk stockings—(also borrowed from Phoebe, who had more than one pair)—& there came Dr. M. exactly on time—no one saw me depart, I think—I hurried to the curb & slipped into the front passenger seat of the shiny black Packard came & hoped not to see in the man’s face a look of disappointment that Norma Jeane was not with me—(for I did not ask Norma Jeane to join us of course—& I would not have told Dr. M. that Norma Jeane was not coming for Dr. M. might have said he would not wish to see me alone)—& quickly said Norma Jeane is not free after all— & he said Oh—but where is she?—she is not coming with us? —like he was hard of hearing & I said in a louder voice smiling at him to put him at ease for he seemed stiff & unyielding— Oh Norma Jeane leads a crazy life, you see—she has a former husband very jealous of her—he is her “ex” but he is always spying on her & threatening to “beat to a pulp” her man-friends & after this, Dr. M. said nothing more of that simpering baby-face Norma; but paid attention to me.
    Before the dinner we would stop by a place he knew, Dr. M. said. For he had forgot something essential—his wallet. (He said with an awkward wink.) & asked would I come inside & I said Oh—I don’t know . . . for I did not want the “gentleman” to think that I was not shy & fearful of being alone with a strange man; & he said he was an artiste in his heart & was learning photography too—he would like to take photographs of me he said—for I was so beautiful— But only with your consent, Betty. & we entered into this house on Norfolk St.—which did not seem like a nice enough house for Dr. M. to be staying in & also did not seem to be furnished—& a strange smell came to my nostrils, a chemical-smell like some kind of strong disinfectant—but I was thinking how Dr. M.’s hair was the color of a sparrow’s feathers & Dr. M. was not very tall so that in my high heels I was almost his height—& he was not a muscled man but lean & stringy—I was smiling thinking I could handle him if necessary; & he said, taking my elbow to help me up a step, in the most gentlemanly way as we further entered the house he said Betty, may I kiss you? Just once please may I kiss you, you are so beautiful Betty Short & his breath was quickened & his eyes moist & intense behind the glittery glasses & I leaned to him & held my breath against the starchy-stuffy smell & shut my eyes knowing how gorgeous the Black Dahlia was at this time of dusk, & in the wan light of a single lamp inside, & lifted my lips to be kissed that were dark-plum in hue & “kissable” as Hedy Lamarr’s. & I thought— Maybe he is the one. Maybe—this will be the one.
    NORMA JEANE BAKER:
    In the Top Hat I waited for Betty & she did not come.
    Oh gosh I was getting mad at Betty!
    Ohhh damn you Betty I was thinking!
    & my heart hardened against her for Betty had promised she would join me—there were two guys wanting to buy me drinks—& I needed to get home because I wanted to wash out some things & dry them on the radiator & in the morning iron—my flannel skirt & my white cotton eyelet blouse—I would wear these to acting class, the others wore slacks & cheap sweaters—I had the philosophy It is always an audition, you don’t know who is observing you & so I needed to be in bed by midnight & needed at least seven hours sleep or there would be blue shadows beneath my eyes but damn Betty would come into the room later, I knew—for Betty was always coming home late & stumbling-drunk—& if you scolded her she would cry Go to hell! Screw you! like she did not even know me & did not care for me any more than she did for the other girls in the Buena Vista.
    For her heart was broken Betty had said, she’d been engaged to a wonderful man she had loved so much, Major Matt Gordon of the U.S. Army Air Corps & they were to be married several