Marilyn Monroe was excited the weekend of July 28th 1962. She had just re-negotiated a deal with 20th Century Fox to resume filming of “Something’s Got To Give.” And, not only for her starring role back, but for a nice pay increase as well. Not too many can say that after being fired, they not only got their job back but for more money too! But, that’s the kind of power Marilyn really had. They knew she was a sure success at the box office, and it didn’t hurt that her costar Dean Martin wouldn’t go on with the film without her.
There are many innuendoes in regards to this last weekend before her death, but the most popular synopsis goes like this:
‘Marilyn arrived for her last weekend with Frank Sinatra looking every inch Hollywood’s hottest screen siren.
Dressed in a tight-fitting green skirt and shirt, and a matching scarf with her signature black sunglasses, she didn’t appear to have a worry in the world.
But 24 hours later, the broken star fled home to Los Angeles after a scandalous stay in Lake Tahoe, NV. A weekend that was tainted with rumors of sex parties, Mafia blackmail threats and a drugged-out confrontation with Ol’ Blue Eyes.
Six days later, she’d be dead.’
For us, as we were researching about Marilyn’s life, this account has a ring of truth in it. With all of her struggles, her triumphs, her moods, and most of all, her want to be loved, this last weekend is truly a pivoting point in what was to take place a week later. You see, Marilyn was not a woman to be snubbed. She understood the give and take of life and relationships, but to be permanently told ‘you will not’ was the one thing she would not tolerate. We found this evident throughout all of our research of this fascinating woman.
So it follows naturally this train of thought: For all she knew, for all she was privy too, you can’t help but to wonder did she know too much? Was she indeed a threat to someone or even to more than one someone? Did she dig her heals in a bit too hard for someone’s comfort level? Did she really hold the key that made her threat to go public worth killing her for?
As you ponder these questions we humbly submit our interpretation of what might have really happened that fateful weekend. What follows here, is the first chapter of book one in our What She Knew series. Enjoy!!
July 28, 1962
Marilyn sauntered over to her lover, current president John F. Kennedy and rubbed her leg invitingly against him. “Are you enjoying the party?” she whispered, giving his ear a caressing lick.
“Mmm hmm.” He mumbled, encircling her waist with one arm and pulling her into his lap.
“Let’s go for a walk, Lover, just you and me.” She kissed him long and deep, leaving the heady flavor of her martini tingling on his lips.
“Yea, let’s,” he ran his hand up the side of her thigh before he allowed her to stand up. They linked hands and walked out of the lodge together.
Frank stood behind the bar with a frown on his face, “We’re supposed to get those two apart not encourage them to spend more time together. Joe told us to split them up regardless of the cost.” He passed the drink he’d just made across the counter top.
“Well, I’m doing the best I can. Short of drugging her I can’t think of anything to cool them down.” Sam took a sip of his vodka and tonic, “Mmm, Mr. S you certainly know how to mix a drink.”
“So drug her already. Maybe get her in some damning photos, like nude and spread out on the bed with someone else. Hell, I don’t care just get the job done.” Frank took a drink, “I’ve got some dope in this drawer; just pour it into her martini the next time you make her one. You’re smart – handle it.”
“You got it, boss.” Sam lifted his glass in a toast and drank it in one long gulp.
“You heard from Hoffa lately?” Frank asked, changing the subject.
“Yea, he’s working on the deal. I don’t think he’s making any progress and he may need the screws put to him. I’ll give him some more time but we’ve got a deadline to meet if we’re gonna succeed.”
“Sam, my man, you know what to do to make things happen the way they should.” Frank poured himself another slug and rubbed his forehead, “I need you to make this problem disappear so the president remains clean.”
“I know. It’ll happen, one way or another.”
“Good. You know what it means if you fail.” Frank made a slicing motion across his throat with the tip of his index finger, “Curtains for you.”
Sam shook his head, “I won’t fail, boss, you can count on me.”
Sultry laughter floated in from outside announcing that Marilyn and Jack had returned from their brief walk.
Frank nodded to Sam. Sam got up and walked toward the door calling out, “Anybody want another drink?”
“I’ll take one,” Marilyn came in the door, her dress partly unzipped exposing her lacy bra covered breast.
Jack smiled as he viewed her in the lamplight, he playfully covered her boob with one large hand, “Yea make me one too, Sam.” Then turned her in his arms and kissed her for a long moment.
“You got it!” Sam quickly rounded the bar and began mixing the martini’s, with one deft movement he placed the dope in the drink he planned to give Marilyn and added an extra olive.
“Here ya go, you crazy kids. He held out the drinks and waited for the couple to walk over to him. “Here you go, honey, I know how you like an extra.”
“Thanks, Sammy you’re such a nice mob king.” Marilyn licked the rim of her glass before touching it to her lips.
“And you’re such a tease.” Sam smiled then turned to hand Jack his glass. “Mr. President, dry just like you like it.”
“You’ve certainly set out to please us Sammy, what gives?” Marilyn asked as she downed her drink.
“I know who really runs things and just like to make certain I’m on their good side.” He winked at her, shrugged and turned back to the mini fridge in the corner of the bar.
Frank, who had been sitting quietly on a bar stool, stood up, “Marilyn I need to talk to you.”
“Not now, Frankie, I’m having a wonderful time with Lover here.”
“I really need to talk to you, he won’t mind waiting a few more minutes for your favors.” Frank grabbed her upper arm and pulled her out of the room.
“But, you can’t do this to me, you’re my friend and you’re helping us be together.” Marilyn protested, digging her heals in the carpet. “You know I love Jack, why are you being so cruel?”
Frank continued to drag her out of the room, “I’ll bring her right back to you, I promise John.”
“You better.” The president settled himself on a bar stool.
Once they were out of earshot of the others, Frank sat her down on a sofa in the living area of the lodge, “Okay, here’s the problem. I’ve got to relay a message to you from Joe. He wants to make sure you don’t ruin his son with what you know.”
“Why would I want to hurt the man I love? That’s silly. I’ll never do anything to harm Jack.” Marilyn pouted up at Frank.
“I have to have your sworn oath that you’ll keep his secrets and take them to your grave. He wants your silence no matter what it takes, if you get the meaning.”
“Frank Sinatra, are you threatening me? It wasn’t me that spread our relationship around Hollywood. I never divulge my affairs.” Marilyn tried to stand but he pushed her back onto the couch.
“Don’t be such a pussy, this is merely business and I have to have more than just you’re reassurance. Give me the letter and I’ll know you’ll stand by your word.”
“How dare you! I know that I’m a bitch and no one loves me but Jack so why would I ever hurt him?” This time she managed to get to her feet and she sent a resounding slap across his face. “Don’t you dare threaten me. You don’t have the power to stop me from loving Jack. If you want silence you should talk to the reporters that hang around me night and day.”
Marilyn stormed back into the barroom. Jack stood up as she stomped toward him, “Let’s go up to my room, Lover, and have some fun.”
Jack looked from Marilyn to Frank, then back again. “What happened, honey?”
“Nothing, nothing at all.”
“Then why does Frank have your handprint on his cheek?” Jack pointed at the red splotch.
“He got a little fresh and I reminded him that he was over and you were my man. Come on upstairs with me.” Marilyn tugged on his arm and he turned to follow her without another word.
Saturday morning brought the couple down the stairs together, holding hands and whispering.
Frank watched for a moment then went in search of Sam. “Did you get any pictures?”
“How could I? He never left her room. I stayed posted outside on the staircase all night and had to run down this morning when I heard her open the door.”
“This is getting us nowhere. I must be a little less subtle.” Frank frowned as he watched them enter the dining area arm in arm.
“Devise a way to distract the president while I have some time with her.” Frank ordered as he walked toward the breakfast buffet.
“Yes sir, boss. Do you want that to happen before or after breakfast?”
“After.” Frank walked into the room with open hostility. “Marilyn, you’re not looking you’re best this morning. Rough night?”
“Nope, I slept like I’d been drugged. I’m still feeling a little woozy this morning, guess I had too much to drink. What do you think, Jacky pooh?” Marilyn twirled her fingers in his hair.
“Perhaps we both had too much.” Jack linked his fingers through hers and pulled their hands out of his hair.
“You’re so wise, Jack. I guess that’s why you’re the president.” Marilyn giggled.
“And you’re so beautiful and sexy. I guess that’s why you’re the sex goddess.” Jack leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.
“That’s enough you two; some of us are trying to eat without throwing up.” Frank made a gagging noise.
“Well, really Frank I had no idea you were that jealous of Jacky pooh.” Marilyn sent a venomous smile at him.
“Oh, I’m jealous all right. I know how luscious that body of yours is. You’re one lucky man, John. I wish she would’ve loved me like she does you. She can give a man pleasure like no other woman on earth. What I’d give for just one more bl…”
“That’s enough, Frank, you’re embarrassing Jack here.” Marilyn shot him a warning look.
“I doubt that, we all know that you’d do just about anything or anyone to get your way.” Frank took a bite of his boiled egg.
“That may be true, but at least a man always knows where he stands with me, unlike you and your goons.” Marilyn shot back, anger making her face turn red.
Jack sat at the table and let the two go at it. He’d been around them enough to think this was one of their playful tiffs. He was also a skillful politician and fully believed in letting them fight it out as long as it wasn’t physical.
“What do you mean by that?” Frank raged as he stood up, forcing his chair to the floor with a loud thud.
“I mean that you may seem like you’re a friend but the minute you’re crossed they just fall off the face of the earth. You’re sneaky and underhanded.” Marilyn had pushed her chair behind her with the back of her foot as she stood up.
The two stood facing each other with red faces and clenched fists. After a moment Frank laughed. He laughed, a harsh cruel sound emitting from deep in his throat. “I guess you’d be about the only one to understand me because each of us in our own way maims and destroys those we’re close too. The only difference is that I’m not a two-bit bleached blond whore.”
Marilyn stormed from the room screaming, throwing plates off the table as she passed them. Glass shattered all around her as the tears blurred her vision. She stumbled out of the house and slammed the door so hard it nearly broke off its hinges.
Jack stood up, “You’ve gone too far this time Frank. We’ll be leaving now.”
“John, it was a silly joke that went too far. I’ll let her calm down and apologize. You don’t want your weekend with her to end so early do you? Why, you’ve only had one night.”
“If you can make it up to her we’ll stay otherwise we’re out of here.” Jack left the room in search of Marilyn.
Sam had sat in stunned silence throughout the entire exchange. He stood up without a word and walked out of the room.
A few hours later, Frank still hadn’t found Marilyn or Jack. As he made his way back to the living room the doorbell rang. He opened the door to find Joe DiMaggio standing there, madder than the devil if hell were freezing over.
DiMaggio stalked into the room, “Get Sam and let’s all have a nice little talk. NOW.”
Frank, who was several inches shorter and many pounds lighter nodded and rushed out of the room.
He was only gone a few moments when he returned with Sam trailing behind him. “Why are you here?”
“I received a very distressing phone call from Marilyn and have come to make certain that she’s all right.” Joe glared at the two men.
“She’s fine. We just had a little misunderstanding.” Frank sat rather suddenly on the couch.
“She’d better be fine. Where is she?” DiMaggio demanded.
Sam looked at Frank and then turned to their unwanted guest, “She’s with Jack at the moment.”
“Really? I certainly hope so. Where are they – exactly?”
“They went out for a drive.” Frank supplied.
“I’ll wait.” DiMaggio perched himself on the back of the couch.
Sam asked, “Would you like a drink?”
“At this hour? No thanks.” DiMaggio shook his head.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Frank stood up, “I’ve got things to attend to.”
“Certainly. . . just as long as you’re near when they return. I didn’t drive all the way out here to have you disappear if something is wrong.”
“What did she tell you?”
“That she was pretty sure someone had drugged her drink last night and that you insulted her. She’s very afraid for her life and it would seem that you’re the cause of it.” DiMaggio stood up, walked around the couch and sat down to wait.
“I’d never hurt her.”
“Maybe not directly, but you do have a reputation.”
Frank opened his mouth but shut it again. He walked into the barroom and poured himself a large vodka as Sam sat on a bar stool.
“Well, this should be interesting.”
“Yeah, especially if she told him the whole truth. How can we shut up both of them without drawing suspicion on ourselves.”
“Car accident. It’ll be tragic but. . .”
Sam shook his head, “No offense boss, but let’s see what he knows first. He may be the jilted lover coming to her rescue.”
“All right, but we’ll need to use tact to keep him from being suspicious.” Frank left the room to answer a ringing telephone.
“This mess just keeps getting worse.” Sam muttered to himself as he made a drink.
K.R. Hughes and T.L. Burns