To Kill the Duke (45 page)

Alexei couldn’t believe how easy it was to slip in and slip out of the RKO studio lot. He also couldn’t believe how incredibly big and busy a
real
studio was.

Imagine how much money these guys are making
, he thought as he walked around looking for a place to establish a base that he could possibly use to ambush Wayne.

Every time he thought he had found the right place, the same problem kept popping up.

People, too many people,
he thought. He had to come up with something bolder than the lone gunman shtick that he had been trying.

He walked around the set for what must have been the fiftieth time when he heard some really loud yelling coming from within one of the buildings. He walked in like he had been going into that building all his life and listened in on what all the screaming was about. What he heard was an older man screaming at a couple of young workers for taking a smoking break, and smoking in a room that contained highly flammable objects. Alexei waited for them to leave and then intended to see what exactly was so flammable.

The quarreling men left and Alexei walked over to the door that he had seen the older man pointing at.

On the door was written Props & Special Effects. Alexei turned the knob and walked in.

He walked up and down the aisles peeking in all the boxes, containers and bags with each step. He was in the room for a few hours until he found what he was looking for; hundreds of boxes of all sorts of fireworks, a few loaded canisters of gas, drums filled with gasoline, drums filled with oil and there was even a barrel of gunpowder!

Glad we got smart and went into skin flicks. Just the cost of the material in this room would have broken us long ago,
he thought as he quickly devised how he was going to attempt
one
more shot at taking out John Wayne.

“I’m going to blow this place up when Wayne comes to visit and everyone in the world will think it was an accident. I’ll tell Mr. Zavert and Boris that Ivan died in the explosion. Stalin gets what he wanted and I get to leave,” Alexei said to all the props, costumes and explosives as he started to go to work at rigging the place to do just that. He knew he had two days to smuggle in some heavier explosives that would help do the
job. He was pleased that the weather was dry and windy and hoped that it stayed that way to help the flames spread. The majority of the buildings were wooden — having been built in the early 1900’s — and he didn’t see much emergency equipment around. He knew it was a long shot, but he had to try it. If he failed at killing Wayne, at least he had the cover for Ivan.

For the next day and a half Alexei played arsonist and put together a contraption that wouldn’t have been confused with Mrs. O’Leary’s cow.

He was amazed how quickly all his training came back to him, and he silently thanked all his instructors who had worked him into the ground while they taught him everything he had learned about not only how to kill people, but how to save them, too. He estimated that the fire and explosions would travel quickly and be devastating. On the day Wayne was due in, he waited at the gate for The Duke to make his entrance. Once Wayne entered Powell’s office building, Alexei would start the fire and retire to the hill behind the lot to watch his masterpiece.

Wayne entered the lot in a huge Pontiac Bonneville. Alexei was surprised that The Duke drove himself. Furthermore, when employees came up to greet him, Wayne couldn’t shake enough hands, kiss enough cheeks, pat enough backs and share enough laughs.

Nice guy
, Alexei thought.
Too bad I have to kill him.
Alexei watched Wayne enter the building that housed Dick Powell’s office, and he retreated to the building where he would slowly count to 100 and then start the fire.

He started the fire and left the lot to watch the entire place blow-up from the hill he had picked out a day earlier. He was amazed at how easily he roamed in and around the lot. He assumed that once one was inside the gate — everyone assumed you belonged. The spot he had picked had a small clump of trees where he could watch and be concealed from being watched. The night before he had hidden a satchel of items that he would need while he stayed hidden — binoculars, a hand gun, food, cash and water.

He was halfway up the hill, when he heard the first alarm, then a second alarm sounded as he turned to watch. He could see the smoke billowing up into the air and he jogged up to the top to seek his cover. He opened up the bag and grabbed his field glasses to take a closer look. He wanted to see the explosion that would level the studio and kill Wayne.

It never blew. Sure there was a lot of smoke and fire damage, but the explosives that he had rigged never went off. He marveled at how the RKO workers and the quickly arriving firemen worked to contain the fire and protect the other structures. But he knew that before any of that would have happened his firebomb would have gone off.

“He dodged me again!” Alexei yelled into the air as he threw his binoculars into the bag and retreated down the hill. Suddenly, he had an urge to go to
The Coconut Grove
and get drunk before he left.

At least you have your cover for Ivan, and it’s better than what was agreed to during your last meeting with him,
he said to himself.

He was at
The Coconut Grove
for about an hour and a half when none other than Mickey Cohen came in. Mickey spied Alexei and went up to greet him.

“Thought you were leaving,” Cohen said.

“I got delayed,” Alexei said.

“I know what you mean. I should have been here hours ago, but a fire at RKO studios has traffic backed up all over town,” Mickey said.

Alexei perked up a little and asked Mickey for more details as they both ordered a drink.

“Did anyone get hurt?” Alexei hoped.

“Not a soul,” Mickey said.

Alexei slumped and Mickey noticed that.

“What? Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who likes to see people hurt at accidents! You probably go to car and horse races, hoping there is an accident!” Mickey said sarcastically.

“I’m just a little depressed about having to leave Hollywood and our profitable business for a while,” Alexei lied.

“Oh yeah, that would make me depressed, too,” agreed Mickey.

“How do you know no one got hurt?” Alexei asked.

“My source?” replied Mickey as he signaled for another round. “Some kid who is an intern at RKO. He’s from Ohio, learning the movie business, but he likes to gamble. I rip up his IOU’s for the passes like I got you.”

“An intern gets access like that?!” a bewildered Alexei shouted.

“He’s pretty smart. Knows everything going on. I told him if things don’t work out in the movie business to give me a call,” Mickey said with a laugh.

“Probably would make more money working for you than RKO,” Alexei said.

“I’ll tell you how smart and knowledgeable he is,” Mickey began. “You may or may not know that Howard Hughes owns RKO. Hughes has many fetishes — one is cornering the market on whatever he thinks is going to be the next big thing. He hits more than he misses, but I think he really struck-out with what my bought-and-sold intern told me.”

“I’m lost,” Alexei confessed.

“That’s pretty easy to do when I’ m doing the talking and the subject is Hughes. Anyway, Randy Komara… ‘my intern’ is told by his boss Dick Powell to find a place for thousands of metal dinner trays that Hughes has had shipped to RKO for storage purposes,” Mickey said.

“Dinner trays?” Alexei asked.

“Hughes thinks that movies are going to lose the war to television. He thinks that Americans will spend all their time in front of the sets… eating breakfast, lunch, dinner and snacks. The metal tray is on folding legs and is a perfect fit for those who are going to do what Hughes thinks. At least that is what Randy told me that Dick Powell told him.”

“No way is Hollywood going to lose to television. No way,” Alexei said as he shook his head in disbelief.

“I agree. I call it ‘the idiot box,’” Mickey said with a smile as he ordered another round.

“That intern is smarter than Hughes,” Alexei said with a laugh.

“I’ll say. He stored all those metal trays in a room that just happened to be next to the room where the fire broke out. Those trays not only acted as a fire wall, but fell over onto the flames to keep them from spreading to some explosives; which would have caused a lot of damage and probably killed some people. The kid told me that the fire wasn’t as big of a deal as John Wayne being there. I expect that kid to become a permanent fixture at RKO… not just an intern,” Mickey announced.

Alexei frowned… frowned hard.

“Hey, you look like you have been sucking on a lemon instead of drinking,” Mickey said.

“I’ve got to run Mickey,” Alexei said as he quickly got up and exited
The Coconut Grove
.

Alexei went home and slept and slept and slept. When he awoke, he couldn’t get motivated to do anything and so slept some more. Alexei didn’t know it yet, but he was depressed — something that he had never experienced personally or in others.

“Too cold in Russia to get depressed,” the general manger of
The Brumagin Winery
later told him. “Either that, or the Russian people are always depressed and just don’t know it under Communism.”

Once Alexei awoke from his very long slumber he knew he had to head out of Hollywood and away from everything. He wasn’t ready for Russia yet. He went to his kitchen table where he kept stacks of people’s business cards and looked for the one that read:
The Brumagin Winery.
He found it, memorized the address, threw some clothes and weapons into the trunk of his car and started driving north to the winery in the Russian River valley.

The drive was long, even longer than he had slept, but Alexei was grateful for it.

“Took your mind off what was ailing you,” Paul, the general manager of
The Brumagin Winery
had told him — once Alexei showed up.

“Yes, it did,” agreed Alexei.

“So what are you doing up here?” Paul asked.

“I need a job,” lied Alexei.

“
You
need a job?” an astonished Paul asked. “I thought you were too busy putting swindlers out of business.”

“That dried up,” Alexei lied. “You don’t even have to pay me.”

“You’re hired!” Paul yelled out. “What can you do?”

“How about I drive for you?” Alexei asked. “It will take my mind off a lot of things.”

“Done,” Paul said as they shook on it. “My wife would be plenty mad if I didn’t give you a place to stay. We have an old barn that we let a
lot of the help use. There’s plenty of room. It’s clean and has a bathroom, too.”

“Done,” Alexei said as he shook Paul’s hand. “Can I start the day after tomorrow? I have to run a few errands… you know, let people know that I’m safe. By the way, is there a place in town where I can send a telegram?”

Paul told him where to go and then invited Alexei to look over the winery and sample some of the wines. Alexei loved every inch of the winery and every drop of the wine. It made him sleep very easily.

Alexei found the telegram place. The man who was in charge of the little office informed Alexei that the office they were standing in was an original telegram office from the 18
^th
century, and he pointed out all the old instruments that were lying around.