Chapter 3: Ghosts

The Sharpe Sisters Movie Ranch was very familiar even under snow. I knew it as the Ares Boys Academy. After I parked, Zara asked me if I was alright.

“I’ve been better, but this isn’t a Nazi concentration camp,” I replied. “I’ve seen those. Nothing here was worse. Something like 200 boys lived here at a time. When did they close down?”

“1943,” Athena said. “The Army took over and ran it for a decade, then we took over in 1954. We use this for location shoots. In the summer we run girls classes. Sometimes we get snowed in.”

The gym and indoor swimming pool were still there. A steam plant and electrical generator were still in use. Not much had changed. Off with the clothes!

“I know that keeping this place in good repair isn’t cheap,” I prefaced. “How can you afford this?”

“We produce art, scientific studies, advertisements, educational materials, and medical reference texts,” Zara said. “It’s time for supper.”

“Smut,” Billie commented. “We peddle smut.”

Athena laughed.

Supper was a big deal because I was famished. A piece of fish, some rice, and stewed vegetables with a glass of white wine (wine?) gave me a warm feeling in my belly. Then we moved to the 50-foot pistol range in the basement. At first, I misunderstood Ruger to mean Luger. The LUGER has eight shot magazines and most were 9mm with some in the 7.65x21mm Parabellum, also called the .30 Luger. That RUGER was a fairly compact .22 Long Rifle automatic pistol that looked like a Luger at first glance. The Ruger magazine held nine shots. I shot at 21 feet and was able to keep my shots on the three-inch bullseyes.

“That’s your pistol,” Billie said. “I have one just like it. There’s a pair of knives for you, too.”

My office was an entire classroom. I was to store my pistol in the locked center desk drawer after cleaning it. A yellow legal pad and a cup filled with sharp Number Two pencils completed my office supplies. Athena handed me a silver-colored Victorinox Pioneer pocket knife.

“Write down your investigation plan,” Athena instructed. “What are your questions and how will you find answers.”

1. Is the subject alive (cite references and credibility)?

2. Who benefited from the death?

3. What was going on before the death?

4. What were the events immediately after the death?

5. Was the body cremated?

6. How credible is the official cause of death?

7. What happened to the estate?

8. What alternative explanations for the death fit the facts?

“Of course she’s dead!” Billie sneered. “That’s the entire point of this exercise.”

“Two words, ma’am,” I said with detachment. “Pearl. Harbor. Everybody just knew that the Japanese were incapable of attacking the Gibraltar of the Pacific. Had to be an inside job. Had to be the Germans. That was despite a naval exercise on Sunday, 7 February 1932 involving the USS Lexington and USS Saratoga. Despite Taranto. Despite the success of midget submarines. Despite the FBI watching Japanese spies and German spies in Hawaii conducting espionage operations. I had to look carefully because in my experience there’s a big world and many things happen at once.

“I didn’t write it down but I’m working from the position that Marylin was murdered. It’s a bad starting point—I need to gather all the evidence and then decide. But the counter-intelligence mindset is to regard everything as enemy action until proven otherwise,” I jotted down a ninth point that anything uncovered would not see the inside of a court room. “I need to determine how common suicide and accidental deaths are in the Hollywood crowd. What happened to Bettie Page, anyway? An actor’s lifestyle means dying young. How much money did the Mob make when Marilyn died?”

“What does organized crime have to do with a woman overdosing on sleeping pills?” I asked rhetorically. “The Kefauver Hearings covered a lot of ground as the good senator from the state of Tennessee exposed the Mob and subpoenaed Bettie Page to testify. Those hearings took me off counter-espionage duty to confiscate dirty pictures from my brother soldiers in Germany. Switchblades and comic books were banned. It took me away from hunting Nazis and fighting commies, but priority missions take precedence.”