Chapter 22
Hey everyone, so a pretty early update for this story. Mostly because I am now unemployed. No big deal; just me and management had a disagreement, and they fired me for it. Already got another job lined up.
Anyway, let's move on to reviews.
Poposwitch, I have a lot of things to cover. Now I know Bell was like the first major phone company, but I know little about the history of that time. So I am going to have to do some research on how she can get into it.
D_eta015 I plan for a time skip next chapter. Not much, but a bit.
Taoist_yuri you welcome.
Darth_Vesha, you're welcome.
roronoa2, thank you. I hope to build on it right.
Hope_is_all_we_got, thank you for your kind words.
VeggieBlue, so very true. Ruth has nearly a century of insider knowledge about how the FBI, CIA, and so on work. She knows how to hide information so well that it will never be tracked back to her in this analog day and age. Many records go missing or never existed in the first place. Catching her off guard isn't going to happen.
Now, with that over, a question. At first, I had Citizen Kane and Raging Bull making 4 and 8 million, respectively, but given how this story is going, I am thinking about changing those amounts. After you read this chapter, tell me your thoughts.
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"The man who reads nothing at all is better educated than the man who reads nothing but newspapers." – Thomas Jefferson. Few quotes in history capture the truth better than this one. People who read newspapers often do not question the information they receive or verify it against other sources. This is largely because individuals prefer to be told what aligns with their existing beliefs and supports their desired narrative. Given this understanding, it makes sense that I chose to enter the news business myself." – A Dream Come True by Ruth "Morris Lucky" Luciano.
-1940-
-Raimondo POV-
Rubbing my tired eyes yet again, I picked up a glass of chamomile tea that was right next to me and took a sip. As I did, I thanked God once again for sending Naru our way once more. If she hadn't come along when she did, I don't think I would have been able to handle the chaos surrounding us right now. And boy, was it chaotic—all because of something we had no control over. That's why I'm in New York right now instead of back in LA, where, by all rights, I should have been.
The death of Vivian Campbell had been a hard blow to take and not just for the company as a whole. The girl was undeniably talented, but God forgive me for thinking it, she could have easily been replaced if she had died in a different way. A car accident, a train wreck, or even a simple trip and fall resulting in a head injury—anything would have been better for the company than being murdered. Now Hearst had the ammunition he needed to come after us for our production of *Citizen Kane*.
I had followed Ruth's instructions carefully. I didn't try to hide the truth; I provided MGM with the information they had requested, clearly explaining what *Citizen Kane* was about and making it clear that it wasn't about Mr. Hearst as much as it was about the greed of businessmen as a whole. They, of course, didn't fully believe me; but they still accepted my explanation, as it served their pursuit of profits. They then assured Hearst that the film wasn't about him, but rather about other business tycoons. However, Hearst wasn't a fool; he could see the parallels.
For the most part, he remained silent on the issue, seemingly accepting MGM's words at face value. But as I looked down at the newspaper in front of me and read the headlines, I now knew the man was just biding his time. Waiting, if you will, for the right time to strike at us for our film, and strike he did, right after Miss Campbell was murdered.
Letting out a sigh, I thought, "I have to give the old bastard credit; he definitely knows how to hit without being obvious about it."
With Mr. Hays and MGM on our side, along with Ruth's connections to the mob, Hearst wasn't bold enough to attack us openly. He understood that doing so would only anger those who were supporting us. Although he controlled the San Francisco Examiner and the New York Journal, Ruth's friends had influence everywhere. It was a fight he knew would be best to avoid at all costs.
So, we reached an understanding—at least, I thought we did. We agreed that he would not be mentioned by name, and Orson would even publicly state that the film concerned someone else. Some other business tycoon Orson knew from his younger years.
However, it turned out he played me, as Ruth liked to say. Despite his friendly demeanor, Hearst had never planned to leave things well enough alone. He was simply biding his time, waiting for an opportunity to attack without raising suspicion. I had underestimated him, and we were paying the price for my lack of ability to notice how cunning the old man really was.
That's why I called this emergency meeting and took the first train I could to New York. We needed to address this situation before it spiraled further out of control.
When Ruth walked into the meeting room, however, she seemed far too relaxed. Dressed in her typical filming outfit, she had just completed one of the more challenging scenes in the film—the final fight between the main character and Joe Louis's character. I knew this was the scene she was most worried about. After all, Ruth was all about realism and had mentioned on more than one occasion that even the slightest mistake or cut could ruin everything. Apparently, that didn't happen, though.
"You seem to be in a good mood," I said, trying not to sound as frustrated as I felt, though I wasn't doing a very good job of it if the look on Ruth's face was any indication.
With her ever-sweet smile, Ruth replied, "Oh, now what has your panties in a bunch this time, Raimondo?"
This made Toby laugh, and I shot him a glare to silence him. "Ruth, this is not the time for jokes or teasing. I know you've read the papers."
Waving me away, she replied, "Yes, yes, I have, and I understand your worry."
Then Toby chimed in, "It seems you didn't have as much control over the situation as you thought you did, huh, Raimondo?"
"Shut the fuck up, Toby," I snapped at him in anger, still frustrated about being played. I didn't need his light jabs right now.
"He's right, Raimondo. You told us a deal was made. Did you perhaps overestimate yourself?" Sam said in a calm, steady voice, though he too felt disappointed with the outcome.
Looking at Sam, I replied, "I thought I did. MGM and I came to a deal with Hearst."
It was a weak defense, and they both knew it, and Sam said, " A deal he clearly had no desire to honor."
Before Toby or I could respond to Sam's words, Ruth interjected, "I don't understand why you two are picking on Raimondo. I think he did a fine job and created a great opportunity for us."
We all stared at her in surprise, so I asked, "What do you mean, Ruth? How can this be a great opportunity? He's basically saying you're incompetent and unable to protect your own people."
"He is accusing the company, not me," she replied with a smirk.
"That's the same thing, Ruth," Sam interjected.
Ruth laughed a little and said, "True, and that's where he fucked up."
Once again, we all looked at her, confused. She continued, "Raimondo, who else was in that room with you when you explained to Mr. Hearst that 'Citizen Kane' was not an attack on him?"
"Well… there was me, Mr. Mayer, and several other MGM executives," I responded, still not fully grasping her point.
"And how many of them heard him agree with you that this wasn't an attack on him and that he wouldn't retaliate against us?" Ruth asked.
That's when I understood and smiled. "All of them," I replied.
"You see, you're starting to get it now," Ruth said with a grin.
"I still don't get it. Does anyone care to explain this to me?" Toby asked.
"What Ruth is saying is that Mr. Hearst went back on his word and, in doing so, proved he can't be trusted by his friends," Sam explained.
"That is right. While it's common to fuck each other over in the business world as often as you can, It's never wise to turn on your own friends till after they no longer are useful. MGM has already invested a considerable amount of money in promoting "Citizen Kane" to the masses, something Hearst seems to have forgotten. Granted, the amount they have spent is nothing compared to Mr. Dragna, who is his own issue altogether, but it is enough to risk affecting their profits. While I won't go so far as saying he has effectively made enemies out of both parties, it does paint him in a bad light. Ah, old men and their pride, how I love it so," Ruth says in a sing-song voice.
For the first time in what feels like ages, I smile and say, "Alright, let's say you're right, Ruth. What's the plan here?"
"Well, we need to move quickly, but we can turn this attack to our advantage and humiliate Mr. Hearst at the same time. Toby, did you secure the loan for the magazine and newspaper we talked about?" Ruth asks.
Looking at Ruth, Toby replies, "Yes, we got a pretty good interest rate too. We are now the proud owners of Glamour Grid and the Daily Observer. The first issues are pending release."
"Good. Raimondo, you need to get back to LA and speak with the guys over at MGM. Tell them something like this: 'Because of Vivian's murder, I wish to use a portion of the profits to start a non-profit art program for underprivileged youths. Something she had always hoped to start when she was still alive." I instruct him.
Looking at Ruth with a questioning expression, I ask, "Did she?"
"Did she what?" Ruth replies innocently.
"Envision an art program for underprivileged youths?" I clarify.
"Oh…I have no idea," Ruth answers bluntly.
I'm not surprised by her response. Ruth is not only an artist but also a businesswoman. I can see where her mind is headed. "I understand you want to use Mr. Hearst's attack on us to promote the films even further."
Ruth smiles at me and says, "People are sympathetic. Well, most people are, anyway. Hearst thinks he is attacking me or harming my business by questioning our ability to protect our workers. But once the news drops that I am starting a charity in her name, he won't have a choice but to sing my praises if he doesn't want to be seen in a bad light. That's the thing with men who overly care about their image—they are easy to manipulate once you know what they want, and what Mr. Hearst wants is respectability."
Toby scratched his head and said, "I have to be honest; it feels a bit scummy using a deceased girl's name just to sell tickets."
"And?" Sam asked.
"Oh, there's no 'and.' I'll make sure it gets done. Just wanted to express my dislike for this," Toby replied as he leaned back in his chair, looking relaxed. True, he hated using Vivian's name like this. He had met her on more than one occasion, and while, like Ruth, he wasn't close to her, he did like her. But business was business.
I sighed and said, "Alright, I'll talk to MGM. I'm sure there's a way to frame this so it seems like it was their idea to boost ticket sales."
"Is there anything else we need to discuss?" Ruth asked with a smile.
"Actually, yes, there is, Ruth. Welles has gone over budget again," Sam replied, giving Ruth a look that prompted her to look away.
"Damn it, I'm going to need more tea for this convention or something stronger. Sam and his endless budget discussions can last for hours," I thought to myself, now slightly regretting calling this meeting.
-Judy Garland POV-
Not for the first time, I found myself covering my mouth as I listened to Ruth sing. Her voice was extraordinary. The way she performed "A Thousand Years," one of her latest songs, was filled with love and longing, easily matching the power of the song she had sung at the Academy Awards just the previous year. The song everyone wanted to cover, but no one could, as Ruth refused to allow anyone the rights to do so.
Last I heard, MGM, along with Decca, had even offered her around $20,000 for the rights to use it in their films or cover it. She turned them down, asserting that none of their signed artists had the voice to do it justice. That said, she wasn't completely unreasonable; she did license her other song to them for a small fee. I wasn't sure how much, but I knew that MGM and Decca saw it as little more than a consolation prize. "Crying in the Rain" was a fine song, but it's no "Kiss from a Rose." A song that even now had me in tears whenever I listened to it.
When Ruth finally finished singing the last note, she looked up at me and smiled. "Really, Judy, are you crying again? This is like the sixth time I have sung this song."
"Shut up, I am not crying," I say and hear Ruth laugh in that way that makes my stomach do flips for some reason.
"Jerry, save that take, but I want to do another later on today," Ruth says.
"Yes, Miss Luciano," Jerry, the sound technician, replied.
From the sound of his tone, I could tell he was already accustomed to Ruth's incredibly high standards. I had been sitting there and watching her perform for over 3 hours already. Doing nearly ten takes of "Wicked Game." Another one of her new songs that was too brooding and sorrowful for my taste, but I couldn't deny that it was a good song. Yet on nearly every take she seemed to find something wrong with them, and for Ruth there was no such thing as good enough. I didn't hear it, and I don't think Jerry did either.
"Really, Ruth. That sounded perfect to me," I said over the intercom.
As she walked over to the piano, she replied, "Thank you, Judy, but honestly, a few of the verses sounded flat to me."
I rolled my eyes. "Have you ever considered that your standards are too high?"
"If they were anything less, I wouldn't be satisfied. Now get that ass in here—I want to see if you've improved since the last time we met," Ruth said.
Her blunt language didn't bother me at all. I had heard worse after all in my life, but her slight jab at my singing ability did annoy me. It wasn't my fault; she was a natural-born freak of nature. Who had even heard of someone who had a four-octave range? I could easily admit that Ruth was by far a better singer than I was, though I hated having to do so. Was it any surprise that "Kiss from a Rose" did as well as it did? I mean "Over the Rainbow" was a top-10 hit and sold over 200,000 copies, but it was no "Kiss from a Rose," which sold a million copies and was still going strong. That was even more than Ella Fitzgerald's "A-Tisket, A-Tasket," which sold over 250,000 copies. It felt unfair to be compared to that.
It was that huge a difference in sales that led MGM and Decca to approach RCA, hoping to convince them to have Ruth record a duet with me. Unfortunately for them, RCA didn't have the authority to force Ruth into anything. Her contract granted her full control over her music, which meant she could choose not to sing anything she wasn't interested in. In fact, according to what she told me, her limited deal with RCA didn't even require her to record anything beyond the two songs she had already given them. However, since Ruth and I were friends, she agreed to sing with me, but only after they transferred the rights to the masters over to her.
God, I loved how Ruth was able to assert her will over the people at Decca. As for MGM, they were primarily interested in securing the movie rights for the song we recorded, so they didn't really care about the masters. Something Ruth was more than willing to give them for a good price. I wasn't aware of the exact amount, but it was enough to satisfy her while still being affordable for MGM. That's why I was here today. Ruth had sent me the lyrics to the song she wrote for us to perform together, titled "You Changed My Life in a Moment."
It was a lovely little love song with a nice melody that suited me well. However, the truth was that Ruth was still a far better singer than I was. To hopefully match her, she had provided me with certain exercises to improve my singing ability so that I could match her abilities. Even then, Ruth had made it clear that I would take the lead and she would follow, singing in a different range, which would be easier than my trying to match her.
As I entered the recording booth, I approached Ruth, who asked, "Ready?"
"Not really, but let's see how things go," I replied as the band behind us began to play in the background.
As we started to sing, I couldn't help but look at Ruth. Unlike me, she seemed so relaxed and confident—a confidence I just didn't possess. Nobody told her what she could or could not do. She marched to her own song, and everyone else either had to follow or be left behind. Where did she get that confidence from? Was it because of who her father was? Her upbringing around dangerous men? Or was it simply a part of who she was? And why, oh why, couldn't I keep my heart from beating so hard in my chest?
My heart was racing so fast that I was sure Ruth could hear it. Because of this, I missed several of my lines, forcing us to start over—much to Ruth's amusement.
"Even her laughter is perfect. What the fuck is wrong with me? Focus, Judy," I screamed in my head.
We started again once I managed to calm down.
"The nights the sky was filled with clouds
My worried mind was filled with fears
I couldn't count all the lonely hours
Spent with memories and tears
I never thought I would see the day
When I could throw all my sorrow away
But then you came and you showed me the way
You have made all those times disappear
You changed my life in a moment
And I'll never be the same again
You changed my life in a moment
And it's hard for me to understand
With a touch of your hand
In a moment of time
All my sorrow is gone
I never thought that I could change
Could change so much in so many ways
I'm still surprised when I look in my mirror
To see that I still look the same
You changed my life in a moment
And I'll never be the same again
You changed my life in a moment
And it's hard for me to understand
With a touch of your hand
In a moment of time
All my sorrow is gone
You changed my life
I'll never be the same
You changed my life in a moment
And it's hard for me to understand
With a touch of your hand
In a moment of time
All my sorrow is gone"
As the song concludes, I take a deep breath and glance at Ruth, who simply gives me a knowing look. Then she turns to Jerry and says, "Jerry, scrap that. We're starting again from the top."
"Wait, what? That was perfect!" I protest, my voice tinged with frustration.
"Ah, you are so cute, but no, no, it wasn't," she replies with a smirk. Making me blush.
Before I can respond, we start over. Right from the top, then again and again. Till my voice starts to hurt a bit.
That is when I ask the most foolish question I could, "How many takes are we going to do?"
Again, Ruth just smiles at me and says, "Till we collapse or get it right."
"Oh God, this bitch was enjoying this." I think to myself in horror.