trolley or helping me with the groceries and having a ride in the car. I would take him to the drug store on Roy Rogers Avenue and buy him a cool pop or a spider drink. Billy was quite adventurous for his age and apparently had taken himself to the drug store before he came attached to us. He told us himself, how he walked down the steep path and went along the Avenue to the drug store with his pocket money to buy a cool pop. Billy was permitted a small allowance from his contract at Universal Studios, and I think he felt quite grown up with his own money. Quite honestly Inspector, I don’t think that Billy was fed very well either, he was always hungry and said that he didn’t get much to eat, poor little thing.”
Mrs Femmer paused and seemed to reflect, then carried on, “Then came the day of his disappearance. I was coming home from a guild meeting at the Amateur Dramatic Society in Brentwood around 11 a.m. or just after, and as I was driving down our street, I passed Billy who was walking along the pavement. I waved to him and he waved back with a big smile. He was probably on his way to the drug store. He always walked on the other side of the road as the pathway down the valley was on that side. He only crossed the road if he was intending to come to our place. Unfortunately, by fate, I did not stop to offer him a lift down into town as I was wanting to get home to get my bowls for a ladies indoor bowling tournament, which I was running late for. The meeting at the guild had run over time and the bowls tournament was due to start at noon at the Hollywood Indoor Bowls arena. I now wish with all my heart that I had taken the time to bring him with me to the arena, or take him home with his beloved cool pop; and be late for the tournament. We didn’t win anyway! It was very hot that day too, Inspector. Dear child, out in all that sun, no hat on his head. This has plagued me for all these years, and I blame myself for his disappearance, I really do.” Mrs Femmer buried her face into her hands and wept bitterly. Her body shook with grief and sorrow.
Not what I expected, thought Marty with a deep sigh.
After a few minutes had passed, Marty asked in a questioning tone, “Can you remember what Billy was wearing that day, Mrs Femmer?”
“Well, I think I can, yes.” came the lame reply. “He had on a blue shirt, from memory, and grey shorts and his sandals. That’s about all I can recall, Inspector. I was driving, you see and I only waved and glanced at him fleetingly. I did not really take too much notice of what Billy had on.” Mrs Femmer turned her gaze onto Marty with a look of despair.
“But you can remember that Billy wore no hat, Mrs Femmer.” replied the enquiring Marty.
“Oh yes, I can remember that. It was a hot day, as I said previously, and I did think how hot the sun would have been on his head. Billy did have a white fabric hat with a wide green border, he sometimes wore it when he came to our place. He said that his mother had made it for him. But on that day he was not wearing the hat.” came the rapid response from Mrs Femmer.
“Did you know the couple that Billy was staying with Mrs Femmer?’ asked the inquisitive Marty.
“Not very well. They lived at number 1811, on the other side of the street. They have both since passed away, I understand. Vladimir Nijinski was from Russia or some other Balkan country, I’m not sure on that. His partner, Olga Serenova fancied herself as a leftover from the Russian Royal family. Delighted in telling everyone that she was a grand niece of Czar Nicholas of all the Russias, if you can believe that! I only met them on a few occasions briefly. They had been involved with, or worked at Universal Studios or some such thing. I don’t know the full background. They were older than Max and I, and frankly appeared a little eccentric, I always thought. I do know that Olga’s daughter lives in the house now. I think her name is Anna, but I could be wrong. I don’t think that Anna was living there at the time. Anyway, they had the custody of Billy from the time he arrived in Hollywood, which was the March of ’65. How they could have not have loved him, I can’t understand.” said Mrs Femmer, looking down seriously and shaking her head. “I know we did ask Billy if he was being treated okay by the couple. He seemed to clam up and just shook his head and said, yes. Both Max and I had our doubts but there was little we could do. On one occasion, not long before Billy disappeared, we noticed some bruising on his arms and legs. When we asked him what had happened, Billy shrugged his shoulders and said that he had been naughty and was punished and had to stand in the corner cupboard, which was very dark. This incident had upset him a lot, so we did not press him for more answers. We just gave him love, Inspector. He craved for it, poor boy.” was Mrs Femmer’s answer. She gave Marty a pleading look of anxiousness tinged with helplessness.
Marty felt he was achieving something here, and decided to plug on, while the going was good.
“Tell me about this pathway that went down from North Beaumont onto Roy Rogers Avenue. Was it steep? How long would it take Billy to walk down the pathway, do you know, Mrs Femmer?” responded Marty, looking at this relic from a bygone age.
Marty had noticed that the furnishings, whilst well cared for, were also certainly outdated by today’s standards. The straight lines of the ’50s and ’60s were apparent. The cushions on the sofa were looking a bit tattered in parts and the carpet was a bright orange with yellow flecks through it, and showed signs of going threadbare.
Mrs Femmer paused before she answered Marty. Obviously thinking about her answer, she finally said, “Well Inspector, I would say that it would take about five to seven minutes to walk down the pathway, but in Billy’s case, it could have taken longer, being a much smaller person. I rarely used the pathway myself. It was fairly steep, especially coming up. There was a handrail for you to hold onto, but Billy might have been a bit short for that. I understand that the pathway was put there as a shortcut for pedestrians, rather than walk all the way to the end of North Beaumont and then have to backtrack along Roy Rogers Avenue. The pathway is not there anymore, it was all dug up some years ago. It wasn’t safe at all.”
“I see.” came Marty’s reply. Changing the subject now, he asked Mrs Femmer, “Do you live alone Mrs Femmer?” Marty assumed that Max was no longer alive, but he had to be sure. She might have a star boarder living here now, but Marty knew he was barking up the wrong tree with this lady.
Quietly, Mrs Femmer feebly said, “Yes, my husband Max died not long after Billy disappeared, the following year to be precise, 1966. Heart attack. He was only 53 but he smoked a lot and had a heart condition. But life goes on, so they say.” Tears had welled up in the poor woman’s eyes. Marty felt a bit of a prick asking the question, but he had to know.
“I gather your husband was at work the day of Billy’s disappearance Mrs Femmer?” was Marty’s next tackling point. Did he notice a slight reluctance before Mrs Femmer replied? There was something she was holding back on.
Marjorie Femmer rallied herself and said with a casual voice, “Yes Inspector, he was. He worked for Walt Disney you know. Max was an accomplished artist and the principal artist for Walt. His work was greatly appreciated by Walt Disney and his other work colleagues. Max loved to draw. Come with me, and I will show you his studio.”
Marty got the impression that Mrs Femmer was trying to steer the conversation away from the day Billy disappeared. Especially in relation to her husband, Max Femmer.
He helped Mrs Femmer to her pigeon toe feet, encased in tapestry slippers and they both walked out of the lounge room and down a dim passage to a doorway at the end. Marty noticed that Mrs Femmer walked like a crab, favouring the right side. Probably arthritis, thought Marty.
Mrs Femmer opened the door with a key from around her skinny neck. She pushed open the pale blue wood door and went inside the room. She carefully walked over to the long windows and opened the drapes and did the same to another set on the other side of the large room.
Marty saw a door in the far corner of the long room. I wonder where that door leads to, Marty thought.Could
