Complete Unknown Read online

  COMPLETE UNKNOWN

  ALSO BY LOUISE CORUM

  Digging to China

  Any Man: A Fictionalized Account of a Mysterious Disappearance

  COMPLETE UNKNOWN

  LOUISE CORUM

  REVERBERATOR BOOKS

  Complete Unknown. Copyright © 2015 by Louise Corum.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the publisher. For more information, email [email protected].

  Published by Reverberator Books.

  eBook ISBN–13: 978-1-938107-66-5

  eBook ISBN–10: 1-938107-66-7

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  For the forgotten.

  CONTENTS

  Dec. 15th

  Jan. 20th

  March 3rd

  March 30th

  April 12th

  May 4th

  May 16th

  May 29th

  June 15th

  June 19th

  July 1st

  July 12th

  July 19th

  July 26th

  August 2nd

  August 12th

  August 13th

  August 17th

  August 30th

  September 2nd

  September 9th

  Sept. 12th

  September 17th

  September 19th

  * * * * *

  Dec. 15th

  Dearest Marabel,

  I was very happy to receive your letter. It puzzled me a little, at first. I didn’t know to whom you were referring. But then, of course, I did.

  You wrote, “I recently found an old photograph in the attic at my mother-in-law’s. There were a few pictures of a woman named Carmen Clayton. In one of them, there was a picture of what looks like you sitting with her. I believe this was you because I have read some of your old novels and have seen your author’s picture. When I asked my mother-in-law about these pictures she told me the woman was a relative of her former next door neighbors. She said Carmen was an actress in Hollywood but she had no idea who you were or how the picture came to be in her possession. She did mention that years ago, when the neighbors moved, they had a yard sale and she bought a few old hat boxes stuffed with things that she never bothered to look through. I found the pictures in one of these hat boxes.”

  What intrigue! And how very good of you to find me stuffed in an old hat box. Is it not odd how little things like that open up doors from the past?

  You said you had heard some things about Carmen and that you’d looked up old articles on her. She was a girl from a rural Tennessee, like you. And what really seemed to spark your interest was the fact that she was an actress. I’ll quote you, “I am very intrigued by old movie stars, especially the ones who seemed to fade from view and are never talked about. The one-time ‘It’ girls who made it but couldn’t hold onto it. They are tragic and that is very interesting.”

  I couldn’t agree more.

  You said that you were interested to know what “really” happened and that I might be able to explain some things. I wouldn’t mind telling you the story I have never told anyone but I just don’t see the need in it.

  I am an old lady now and most of my enemies are dead. I have nothing to fear as far as that goes, but, really, I’d rather not relive it.

  Thank you for your kind letter and words. I am glad that you have enjoyed my romance novels, though they were an absolute bore to write. But we all have to make a living and that always seemed the easiest way to me.

  Give my warmest regards to your family. It is so nice to hear of such wonderful things. You say your husband has a new job now and you might be re-locating? I think that is wonderful. I’ve never been to Florida, but I’m sure it’s as fine a state as any. Very hot and humid, I hear.

  No, please do not call me on the phone. As I have said, I’m an old lady and I can’t hear very well. We’d just be yelling at each other! And, really, that’s no fun at all, is it?

  Could you write me another letter or two? I love hearing from young people, especially young people who know of people I once knew. And, yes, I did know her, Carmen. She was a wonderful person. Very beautiful. You might send me a photo of yourself as well? Would you like more pictures of her? I am enclosing a few that were taken when we knew each other. See? She’s smiling, as she always was. I’ve never seen a person smile as much as her! She was a very happy person no matter what some people would have others believe. She was happy and funny and caring.

  I knew her to be no other way.

  Thank you again for writing. Please write again. I do so love to correspond, though it hurts my hand. But I’ll just set the pen down and pick it back up when the ache goes away. And, no, I do not like writing correspondence on the computer. I don’t have an email address and never will. Too old for something like that.

  With warmest regards and kindest wishes,

  Ms. C.V. Weeks

  * * * * *

  Jan. 20th

  Dearest Marabel,

  It was so good of you to write again! I was very happy when I saw your letter in the mailbox. However, you are a bit curious and I want to make clear that I simply don’t have all the answers you want. Moreover, I don’t really like talking about this, mainly because I don’t have all the details.

  Dear, all I can tell you is that while I did know Carmen, I can’t tell you what happened to her. I am so sorry about this, too. I, simply, do not know.

  You say your mother told you the story? That she had heard some things? She saw a special about it on television, right? Also, she spoke with people who knew Carmen’s family. It seems that she has said a lot of things that I don’t necessarily agree with. However, she is your mother and mothers always seem to know best. Listen to her, please. She won’t steer you wrong. It might just be best to put this whole thing to rest. I’m afraid I just don’t want to get into it. That might seem selfish to someone like you, a lovely person with the best of intentions, but I have my reasons.

  Thank you so much for the photo of yourself and your husband. How handsome he is! So very tall. Carmen wasn’t very tall, but, like you, she did like big men. Did you notice that in the pictures I sent? I’m not very tall, either. Carmen would occasionally call me “Shorty,” which drove me absolutely mad. But she was like that, a bit of an agitator and an aggravator but in a good natured sort of way.

  You are very welcome for the photos. I am sending a few more. The beach where we’re standing is off the coast of Mexico. It was a very lovely place. We had a bungalow. And a little too much tequila! Ah, c’est la vie! That is life, there, on that beach. The best kind.

  Please write again. I do love hearing from you.

  With warmest regards and kindest wishes,

  Ms. C.V. Weeks

  P.S. I’ve decided to give up the pen and just write these letters on an old typer I have.

  P.P.S. My initials stand for Cadence Veronica. No one has asked me that in a long time!

  * * * * *

  March 3rd

  Dearest Marabel,

  I apologize for the delay in writing you back. I caught a cold which then turned to pneumonia, which is not a good thing for an old lady to have. I went into the hospital and was kept there against my wishes, let me assure you, for about two weeks. I was as mad as a hornet. I don’t like hospitals. I think they reek of body odor and bad food.

  I hope this letter finds you and yours well.

  Let�
�s see. You asked about Carmen again. I would so very like to be friends with you, dear Marabel, but I am not quite sure if we can get over this hurdle. You want information that I am not willing to give. I am not willing because I just don’t see the use in it. The case has been closed for years, as you very well know. And, yes, they ruled it as a suicide, but, no, I don’t agree with that. It was not in her nature. Some people, yes, it’s in them and I’ve known my fair share of those kinds of people. But her? No, not at all. She had a light in her eye that was unmatchable. She loved life, all of it, even the bad. Now why would a person like that kill themselves? They wouldn’t. Don’t let anybody tell you they would, either.

  Yes, yes, you are welcome for the photos. And thank you for the cookies you sent. You didn’t have to do that! And to send them overnight like that must have cost a fortune! But they were fresh and delicious and I have always had a big sweet tooth.

  Kindest regards and warmest wishes,

  Ms. C.V. Weeks.

  P.S. No, I never married. Never saw much need in it, really.

  * * * * *

  March 30th

  Dearest Marabel,

  Your persistence is inspiring, if not a little bothersome. You remind me of Carmen. She wouldn’t let a person rest until she got what she wanted. You seem to be cut from the same cloth as she was. It must be something in the Tennessee air.

  I shake my head as I write this, but if you are going to drive yourself crazy over this whole thing, I will do what I can. Please send me a list of questions and I will try to answer them. Remember, while Carmen and I were close friends, I did not know everything about her.

  Thank you for writing.

  Kindest regards and warmest wishes,

  Ms. C.V. Weeks.

  * * * * *

  April 12th

  Dearest Marabel,

  I received your letter last week. It has taken me this long to assemble the answers to your questions. Again, remember that I do not know everything and that, also, I am doing this only in good faith that you will keep this to yourself and not use it to write a book or anything. Please do not read anything into the answers. They are as straight-forward as I can make them.

  How old was Carmen when I met her? Answer: She was right at twenty-three years of age. I was twenty-four.

  When and how did I meet Carmen? Answer: We met in the early 1950s at a studio party. She was an aspiring actress and I was a screenwriter. (I went by the same name, but people always assumed I was a man. Women weren’t writing too much then, especially not screenplays, which were, more or less, written by a team of writers—most of which were male—then handed over to a director of some sort to shoot. It was very different back then. There were no “specs” or any of that.)

  What was the nature of our relationship? Answer: I was a little taken aback at this question, as if you might be assuming something I’d rather you didn’t. We were mere acquaintances at first. Things changed and, after a while, we began to talk and became good friends. We both shared a house with a man, Herbert McCloud, who was a very famous director at one time. We were very happy there. That, dear Marabel, was the nature of our relationship.

  Let me stop here and say, again, please don’t read anything into all of this. We were friends. Only friends. We loved each other as friends do.

  Did Carmen ever mention anything about her family? Or about being from Tennessee? Answer: Yes, of course, she did. She was very proud of the fact that she was from Tennessee. I, myself, grew up just north-east of there, in Kentucky, so Carmen and I were both Southern girls. (We got a lot of flack over it, too, because of our “strong” accents. People thought we were hicks, but we showed them! Or, at least I like to think we did.)

  If so, what sort of things would she talk about? (Regarding her family.) Answer: She would talk about the size of her family—there was something like eight or nine children, but many families were large back in those days. Her father worked as a farm hand of some sort. (I am sure you know more of this than I.) Her mother stayed home and tended to the children. She relayed that her mother was a very intelligent woman who refused to send her children to school and instead taught them herself. She was also very rigid, from what I understand, and very religious. I don’t understand much of that, as I was not raised with any sort of religion. (Perhaps that’s what’s wrong with me!)

  Did Carmen ever marry? Answer: No. She never married. At least, not that I know of.

  Did Carmen have any children? Answer: None that I am aware of.

  Did she ever have an abortion? Answer: Again, I was a little taken aback by this question. You young people are so bold these days! And that is a very personal question. Your mother said she thought she might have had an abortion or two? Where does she get this information? However, I will not lie. Carmen did, in fact, have one abortion that I know of. She was unmarried and without a proper income. She felt she did not have any choice. Please do not judge her for it. She did what was right for her. And, yes, she did regret it very much so, young lady, so don’t think unkindly of her for this act.

  Did Carmen know a man called Vic Martin? Answer: I hope this is a joke, as we all know Vic Martin was a very distinguished actor and one of the nicest people in the world. Of course, she starred with him in a movie called Nervous Tension. It was rumored that they had an affair.

  Did Carmen leave any effects after her death? Answer: She did not have a will, so the majority of her things were given away to whoever wanted them and her home in the Hollywood Hills was eventually taken by the county for past taxes. I kept a few mementos, which I am sending with this letter. I think you should have them now because you are so interested in Carmen. Take care with the crystal egg. It is very delicate. It was given to her as a housewarming gift by a very famous actor. (But not Vic Martin.)

  I hope this answers your questions about Carmen. Yes, if you ever get to Arizona, please do call on me. I have lived here for a very long time. I have bad allergies and the desert is the best place for me because of the dry heat. The South is so very humid, though I miss it dearly.

  With warmest regards and kindest wishes,

  Ms. C.V. Weeks

  P.S. I apologize for the “O” in this letter. I see it stands up a little higher than it should. This is a very old typer I write on, but I wouldn’t give it up for anything. Please overlook it.

  P.P.S. If you ever get the chance, you might enjoy watching Nervous Tension, which was Carmen’s most famous role. It has mostly been forgotten, which, really, is a shame. If you can locate it, you will be in for a treat. It is a shame that many of those old movies have been allowed to disintegrate in those damn warehouses. But occasionally, someone finds one in good condition and they replay it on a few of the cable channels. Perhaps they might dig up Nervous Tension one day. What a treat that would be for all of us!

  * * * * *

  May 4th

  Dearest Marabel,

  No, no, I have no use for a computer or any other such nonsense. Please don’t send one. Keep that money and spend it on something nice for yourself.

  You are very welcome for the mementos and the answers. I hope some of it put your mind to rest. You seem like such a sweet person. I am much honored to be corresponding with you!

  Again, no, I don’t necessarily know the nature of Carmen and Vic Martin’s relationship. Please leave him out of this. He was a kind, kind man. Yes, I did leave out that I knew him. But you did not ask if I knew him, you merely referenced him with Carmen. How was I to know you wanted me to tell you of how I knew him? The fact is, when I knew Vic, Carmen and I hadn’t met yet. How do you even know this? Well, I don’t suppose it matters, but suffice it to say that we didn’t know each other when I knew Vic. Vic and I were close, then we grew apart, just like the plot in a romance novel. That’s all, dear one. We had our time together, then we moved on.

  You seem to have gotten this idea in your head that I know more than I am telling. Yes, perhaps, that may or may not be
true, but, as I have told you and as I will reiterate now, there are things which I do not care to discuss. So, please stop asking me.

  How is your husband? I am sorry to hear that his promotion fell through but things like that happen in life. Just keep in mind, that no matter what you think now, soon you will know it was for the best.

  With warmest wishes and kindest regards,

  Ms. C.V. Weeks

  P.S. The cookies were delicious! You are making me into a fat old woman! Please don’t send them again as I am borderline diabetic and shouldn’t eat such divine things. Just write me a longer letter and that will be sweeter than the wonderful cookies.

  * * * * *

  May 16th

  Dearest Marabel,

  I will keep this short and sweet. Your persistence is becoming less and less a virtue, dear. Keep in mind, no one likes a snoop! I do not mean to be harsh with you, as I have come to love you and your letters, but I will not rehash this story. It ended when I left California. I do not intend to write of it or of my speculations about the whole incident. It is in the past and in the past it will stay. Yes, we do all have a few skeletons in our closets, but those skeletons do not need to be disturbed. If they come out, they could do more harm than good.