The File on Bobby Darin, Chapter 15

Chapter 15
Closing Night at the Copa, Part 1

Bobby Darin’s three-week run at the Copa was coming to an end.  Aside from the incident where Bobby was chased by his fans, the engagement had gone smoothly.  The audience for each show was overflowing practically into the street.  The reviews were glowing.  More people packed the house every night, and many were repeat customers who had fallen under Darin’s spell and found they simply could not tear themselves away.  Recordings had been made of two separate shows, and they would be the basis for a live album to be released by Atco later in the year.  Bobby was heading down to Washington, DC, to do a shorter run at the Casino Royal supper club.  After that, he was off to Italy to be in a movie with Rock Hudson, Gina Lollobrigida and pretty teen star Sandra Dee.  He would write a couple of tunes for the film, and his face would be seen in movie houses the world over.  Bobby Darin had arrived.  Looking over Bobby’s packed schedule, Dick Behrke hoped that his friend would have enough time to take his final bow at the end of tonight’s show before traveling on to his next engagement.  Darin watched the gathering audience from offstage as he had the first night and every night, but he did seem distracted as Dick came up beside him. 

“Are you nervous, Bobby?” Dick asked him again.  Bobby turned to respond, did a double take and laughed at the question.  They were now seasoned Copa pros!  There would be other shows here in the future for Darin, but this was his first time at the Copa, and that could never be repeated.  Now they were both feeling just a little nostalgic for what was passing away.  Dick could see an emotion, something he could not name, almost brimming over in his old friend. 

Darin shook his head and smiled sadly.  “No, not nervous, just wishing Jo Ann could have seen all this,” he said, indicating the audience with a wave of his hand.
“When will you see her?” Dick asked.

“I don’t know,” Bobby said, “We go to DC, back here for a day, and then I’m flying to Italy.  She will be playing Indiana by then.” 

“Don’t worry, Bobby, things will work out.”  Dick smiled, imagined Bobby’s women, stacked up like planes over Idyllwild, unable to land.

Bobby frowned.  “You don’t take my engagement very seriously,” he said.

Dick Behrke dimmed his smile somewhat and said, “I take all of your engagements seriously.”  He knew that Bobby had been proposing marriage to girls since he was sixteen.  “I’m sure you’ll pull it off one of these days, kiddo.”

Bobby was doing more impressions these days, hoping he might be allowed to use one or two in his upcoming movie, in which he would play a college boy traveling in Europe.  He put up his fists in a fighter’s pose, shifted his weight back and forth on his feet and said in the voice of a broken-nosed boxer, “Yeah, dat’s right, we’ll take ‘em all.”

“We will take them all,” Dick said.  The two friends parted, Bobby back to the dressing room, and Dick out to the stage to make sure some room had been left for Bobby as yet a few more tables had crept in down front to accommodate a few more patrons.  As he counted out the paces of the remaining stage floor, he heard an urgent whisper come from the back of the room.  He looked up to find Nina heading cautiously down the aisle among the gathering audience.  She moved toward him in a determined yet hesitant manner.

“Hey Dick,” she said in a very loud whisper, “you got a minute?”  She looked at him searchingly.

Dick instinctively looked around to find Bobby.  “Sure, Nina.  What can I do for you?”

Nina was all business, coming straight to the point.  “I have to talk to you, Dick, about this Casino Royal place, you know, in Washington?  You are going with him down there, aren’t you?”

“That’s right,” Dick said, “Me and Ronnie and our own bass player, we’ll all go.” 

He saw that Nina appeared rather agitated about something.  Dick led her up onto the stage and seated her at the piano.  Still looking worried, Nina slid gratefully onto the piano bench.  She bowed her head for a moment, took in a breath, then looked up at Dick and asked him, “Have you seen this place, the Casino Royal?  Do you know the layout?”

Why in the world is she asking me about this now, Dick wondered.  She seemed a little flustered, and he wanted to calm her down, if he could.  “Why no,” he said, “I’ve never been there.  I know it’s a little smaller than the Copa, not quite as nice, but it should have everything most nightclubs have.  Why, what do you need to know about it?”

Nina said, “Does it have stairs?”

Dick felt totally lost in this conversation.  He said, smiling, “Yes, I imagine it has stairs, just like any building.  Why?”

Nina slapped her forehead in wonder at this idiot boy.  “Does it have stairs from the dressing rooms, do you know?  Stairs that Bobby would have to climb to get to the stage?”

The smile on Dick’s face evaporated.  Stairs, of course!  When Bobby was onstage, he seemed to have no physical limitations, he was energy personified.  He fed off the excitement he built in his audience, and that could carry him through the show.  Offstage, however, was a different matter, and he knew that Nina was right to inquire about this.  Dick’s mind was racing, wondering how they might find this out before heading out of town.  As he was pondering this problem, Nina finally said, “Tell Blauner, he’s got to find out about this.  If there’s stairs, then they have to make other arrangements for Bobby.”

“Steve is gone, you know,” Dick told her, “he quit.”

Dick could see that her patience with him was just about on empty.  “When Steve comes back,” she said to him in a fierce, low voice, as she did not know how close Bobby was, and she did not want him to hear this conversation.  “When Steve comes back,” she repeated slowly, “just make sure he knows.”  She let out a breath of relief, and Dick knew that she had said what she came to say.

Dick patted her shoulder somewhat awkwardly and said, “You bet, Nina, I’ll take care of this, you don’t need to worry about it.”  Now he understood her impatience with him, and it seemed perfectly reasonable; Nina was always two steps ahead of the rest of them.  He straightened up and looked around the room rapidly filling with nightclub patrons.  “You staying for the show?”  He asked her.

Nina rose from the piano bench with a nod.  “Yeah, I think I’ll stand in the back and catch part of the act.  Thank you, Dickie, for taking the time with me, I know you got a lot on your mind tonight.”

“That’s okay, Nina, this will be no problem, I promise you.  I’ll see you in a little while from the stage.”  And he was up and away to prepare for this evening’s show.  Nina had little intention of Dick or Bobby being able to see her that evening, however.  She preferred to view things from the back of the room, where she would be out of sight.  It had been difficult keeping a closer eye on Bobby in recent days without running slap into Walter Winchell, but she had managed it thus far.  Nina was not acquainted with anyone else who had a family member who would be object of interest of a gossip columnist, and she was not comfortable with the idea.  She had known from Bobby’s infancy that he was an extraordinary boy, but she really had not ever counted on him becoming famous, or thought what that might mean for her and the rest of her family.  Polly and Nina had made their way in the world alone before Charlie had come into their lives.  Times had been tough, but they were two strong-willed women, and they had survived.  Now Polly was gone, and Nina sensed that something, she did not quite know what, was spinning beyond her ability to control.  Walter Winchell seemed genuinely fond of Bobby, but Nina was afraid he might like Bobby in the way that a killer whale likes a seal, and so she was wary. 

As Nina left the stage, she saw Charlie pushing a bit impatiently through the audience as people began to seat themselves.  At the same moment, she spied Walter Winchell making his entrance, uncharacteristically prompt for a show.  This was the final night, and he would not miss a minute of it.  Nina watched Winchell striding across the room as if he owned the place.  As Charlie came up to her she jerked head in Winchell’s direction and said, “I don’t trust that guy.”

Charlie Maffia looked at his wife.  “You don’t trust anybody!”

Nina nodded in agreement, “I know, but him, especially, I don’t trust.”

Charlie shrugged, “So what else is new?  You coming backstage?”

Nina consulted her watch and shook her head.  “No, it’s getting too late, he doesn’t need me back there now.  I’ll stay out front and find you later.”

“Okay, José,” Charlie Maffia said, bowing gravely to give his wife a kiss on her ample nose.  Nina broke into a reluctant laugh as she pushed him away.  Charlie shuffled off to Bobby’s dressing room.  She had not noticed Walter Winchell bounding down to meet her until it was too late to make her escape.

“Good evening, Mrs. Maffia,” he said, smiling, “here for closing night?”

Nina dismissed him with the wave of her hand.  “Nina, I’m Nina to everybody, Mr. Winchell.  Just plain Nina.”

Walter Winchell was not to be put off.  He said to her, “Well, if you’re Nina, then I must be Walter!”  He held out a hand to her that she did not take.  She said nothing.

Walter Winchell was not the one to acknowledge a chilly reception.  “Now that we’re on a first-name basis, can I hope that you’ll join me here at my table?”  He pulled out a chair of a table right at ringside.

Now Nina looked ever so slightly impressed, though she struggled mightily to hide it.  “This is your table, here?” she said, indicating its nearness to the stage.  She had never been seated so close to Bobby during his act, as it had been explained to her that these tables were reserved for big shot friends of the management.  Celebrities seated at these tables were good for business, as family members were not. 

“Yes, this is my table, Nina, good view, and I would be honored if you would join me.”  Winchell held the chair for her, wondering if she would flee or sit down with him.  With Bobby leaving town soon, who knew when he might have another chance to speak with her.  She was Bobby’s sister, and she simply must know something about the secret of Bobby’s birth.  The Copa was not the ideal spot for such a conversation, but now that Winchell was talking with her, he must take his chance and see what might develop.  He had not received another mystery phone call since Bobby had been in his office, and he was no nearer to learning the truth.  Maybe Nina would know something that she herself did not understand the significance of when it came to Bobby.  As much as Winchell enjoyed bare-knuckle exchanges with his editor, other journalists, politicians and celebrities, he could be very engaging, even charming, when the situation called for it.

Nina looked at Walter and the offered ringside seat.  It was true that she had been very annoyed with him about the running incident.  It was also true that Winchell had exerted himself to smooth things over during Bobby’s brief illness.  No news of it had gotten out, however, and those hi-jinks had not been repeated.  He had done what he had pledged to do.  Perhaps she could unbend just a little.

Nina looked down at her plain brown dress and straightened it with a tug.  She patted her blond hair, gave a self-deprecating laugh and said, “Gee, Walter, I’m not really dressed to sit down here with all of you swells!”  She looked up and smiled shyly at him.  A certain amount of feminine charm which she normally kept well hidden came peeking through at that moment, and the two inveterate poker players took their places across one another at the table.  ‘Score one for me,’ Walter thought to himself, ‘I got her to sit down!’

Continued in the next chapter

ID: 1470107   (Rated: 13+) The File on Bobby Darin, Chapter 16  Closing Night at the Copa, Part 2 by Gisele