March 30, 1935:  New York City, New York:

The young man looked at himself one last time, staring directly into his own eyes.  His name was Justin Taylor.  He was twenty years old and hungry for success.  At the moment, he was also questioning himself deeply.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked himself out loud.  

Justin was standing in the ornate bathroom of his benefactor, Oscar Vanderbeke, and feeling vulnerable for the first time since meeting the much older man at the artist's show where Justin had several pieces on display.  He had been so excited when he received news from the art academy that he was attending that he had been among the chosen few to be allowed to hang at least three of their pieces during the annual 'New Artists of America Show', which brought out a lot of art patrons and critics during the pre-Christmas season.  It was a prestigious show that had launched a number of careers in the art world over the years, and Justin was one of the youngest to be asked to participate.  He had only been attending the academy for a year and a half.  His biggest hope had been that he would attract a patron that would help to get his work out into galleries.  When the elderly gentleman, who was dressed to the nines and looking every bit the wealthy art patron that he was, stopped to admire Justin's work and then went on to engage in a lively conversation about his art style, Justin was thrilled.  When the gentleman handed over his calling card with the name of Oscar Vanderbeke emblazoned in gold on it, Justin felt a sharp thrill.  Even more thrilling was the news his best friend, Daphne, passed on to him when she sidled up next to him as Oscar left, and breathlessly told him that one of the other artists told her that the man was one of the richest art dealers in the Country. 

Now, almost four months later, Justin was having second thoughts about his luck in meeting Oscar.  He knew he should stop stalling and go back downstairs to the drawing room of the palatial estate house that Oscar owned, but he really didn't want to argue with the man any more.  He considered just slipping out of the house and hailing a cab to go back to his cramped little apartment in the city, but he didn't really want to hurt the old man's feelings.  After all, Oscar might be asking him to do something he really didn't want to do, but the man had been really good to him up until this point.  He felt he owed him something for all he had done.  As he continued to stare into the gilded mirror, Justin thought back to the previous months.

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December 12, 1934:  New York City, New York:

Justin had spent the last two days debating whether he should call the phone number on Mr. Vanderbeke's calling card.  Daphne displayed her frustration with her friend over his timidity.  'You'll never make it in this world if you don't stand up for yourself,' she had declared in a huff.  Justin allowed her to talk to him in any way she chose since they were lifelong friends.  Daphne had stood by him when his father had thrown him out of the family home after discovering Justin's deep dark secret, when he caught his son smooching on a high school friend... not of the female persuasion... in his bedroom just after graduation.  Despite his mother's pleas to be understanding, Justin was asked to leave the house immediately and ordered to never reveal his deviancy to the outside world and bring shame on the family name.  Daphne and her parents took Justin in until he was able to find a job that paid enough for a tiny apartment.  Luckily Justin's mother continued to slip him a little financial help on the side when she could without her husband knowing, and used the threat of Justin going public to convince her husband not to withdraw his financial support at the art school he was already enrolled in, thus ensuring that the young man would at least be able to get an education in his chosen field.  

Daphne enrolled in a nearby medical school that year and the two remained strong friends.  Now she was doing her best to get Justin to take advantage of the obvious interest that the art dealer had shown in Justin's work.  Luckily she didn't have to wait for Justin to make the first move.  Just as he was about to give in to Daph's nagging, he got a call at the apartment from Mr. Vanderbeke's assistant.  Justin accepted the invitation to luncheon the next day, which was to be held at one of the finest hotel restaurants in the city.  A free meal at such a prestigious place was not to be frowned upon or passed up.   Justin dressed as best he could in the suit he had always worn for Sunday dinners at home.  He had almost outgrown it and couldn't afford nicer clothes anymore, but he still looked pretty damned good despite the tight fit.  He took one more look at his dark blue pleated slacks and light blue shirt with the gray silk tie his mom had chosen for him.  He was pleased with the overall effect, especially when he added the maroon vest over his shirt and laid his jaunty newsboy cap atop his pale blond head.  He looked every bit the up and coming young artist, in his own mind.

That afternoon's luncheon with Oscar was the first of many such meetings over the next few months.  Oscar had spent the entire lunch hour praising Justin for his style of artistry and comparing him to many of the great artists of the past.  He made promises to help Justin further his career by making introductions to gallery owners and collectors, and he had kept those promises.  By the end of March, Justin had sold several pieces privately to a few customers that Oscar had introduced him to.  He hadn't gotten a showing at any of the galleries as of yet, but there had been interest shown.  It was enough to make Justin let down his guard and accept Oscar at face value.  That was why he was so shocked during the last week of March when he had supper with Oscar at his home, and the man made a request of Justin that seemed to come from out of the blue and was not entirely welcome.

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March 27, 1935: New York City, New York:

Justin had been invited to a dinner party at the Vanderbeke estate.  It was the first time he had been invited to a full gathering with other guests and he was super excited.  Oscar had told him that some of New York's finest art patrons would be attending and it was time to impress them.  He had requested that Justin bring his sketchbook and samples of his work with him.  The night had gone smoothly and Justin truly enjoyed himself, although he did feel a little out of place with all the glamorous ladies and gentlemen dressed in all their finery, topped off by diamonds and solid gold cuff links.  There had even been a few guests who showed a distinct interest in Justin's work.  The entire evening would have been a roaring success for the young man if it had not been for what transpired in Oscar's private study after most of the guests had left.  

One of the servants passed on a message that Oscar wanted to see Justin in the study.  He had gone without hesitation.  When he arrived in the large room filled with massive heavy oaken furniture and large stuffed divans, he found Oscar sitting behind the wide desk that dominated the room.  Another gentleman that Justin did not know was planted comfortably in a wide leather easy chair facing the desk.  Oscar rose to greet Justin the moment he arrived and then waited for the servant to leave the room.  Once the door was closed behind the young lady, Oscar quickly introduced his other guest as Mr. Christian Beecher.  Mr. Beecher rose and offered his hand.  Justin felt a strange sense of unease but couldn't put his finger on why.  Mr. Beecher was certainly not menacing in any way, but there was something off-putting about the greasy way the man smiled at Justin that he didn't like.  He turned back to Oscar.

"You wanted to see me," he inquired.  

"Yes, yes, my dear boy.  Justin, I have an offer to make to you that will set you up in such a way that all your financial woes for at least a  year or more will be over, and you can devote yourself to your art full time.  Are you interested?"

Justin hesitated only a second.  "I, of course, would be interested in hearing what the offer is, Sir," he stated.

That is when Oscar went on to outline a plan he had to have a famous painting owned by his friend, Mr. Beecher, copied.  When he saw Justin beginning to frown he hurriedly went on to add that it had nothing to do with anything illegal.  He insisted that Mr. Beecher simply wanted to display the copy publicly while protecting the safety of the original from the threat of thieves who had already stolen two of Mr. Beecher's masterpieces.  Until the culprits could be found, he did not want any more of his authentic paintings made vulnerable.  Both men hastily assured Justin that they had no intention of trying to sell the fakes and every intention of destroying them once the thieves had been caught.  Oscar smiled at Mr. Beecher as he remarked that he was certain that Justin had the talent to make an excellent copy that would fool those who saw the painting hanging in Mr. Beecher's home.  They hoped to lay a trap and entice the thieves to try again, only this time the staff at the estate and the police would be prepared. 

Justin was extremely uncomfortable with the notion.  Like many young artists, he had made duplicate copies of masterpieces for the practice and fun of it but had always destroyed them once they were completed.  They were not meant to be kept.  He had never even heard of Mr. Beecher before.  When Oscar saw how reluctant Justin was he made haste to let the young man know that there was no hurry.  His parting words to Justin were that he should take a few days to think about it.  Then he let the young man know that the job would pay $5,000.00.  It was a princely sum of money in the post Depression era and Justin left the house knowing he would have to think the offer over seriously.

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March 30, 1935:  New York City, New York:
     
Justin squared his shoulders as he took one last look in the mirror.  He had made up his mind over the last few days, and he had come to Oscar's estate with the determination that he would not accept the offer made to him by Oscar and Mr. Beecher.  There was just something fishy about the whole thing.  He had bounced his feelings off Daphne enough until he finally became convinced that refusing was the right thing to do despite the financial incentive.  The servant led Justin to Oscar's private bedroom, since the master of the house had insisted that he wanted to see Justin the minute he arrived.   Oscar, naturally, had not been happy when Justin gave him his decision.  The man had stormed out, throwing an order over his shoulder that Justin should think it over for a few minutes and then join him in the drawing room when he had come to his senses.  

Justin had not hurried after Oscar.  He was still in shock.  He had never seen Oscar lose his temper before, and it was a bit unnerving.  Still, he knew he had to face the man after all the kindnesses he had shown him until this one ugly scene.  He left the room and took the stairs down to the foyer.  He didn't see any of the half dozen servants that worked in the house or hear a single sound.  Justin approached the half open door to the drawing room.  He was just about to push it open when he heard an unfamiliar sound, like a clap of thunder.  He pressed forward just in time to see a man standing near the large sliding glass doors that led to the outside garden.  He was standing outside of the pool of light from the only lamp that was turned on in the room, and his face was too much in shadow for Justin to make out who he was.  The one thing that Justin could see plainly, as the light bounced off the gloved hand in front of the man, was the glint of metal.  Off to the side, lying on the floor with a red stain spreading quickly over his smoking jacket above his chest, was the figure of Oscar Vanderbeke.  
 
Justin let out an audible gasp, causing the mysterious figure to turn and face him.  Justin still couldn't make out the face, but he couldn't miss the action of the man as he lifted what Justin could now plainly see was a gun towards him.  The man squeezed the trigger and a strangled click filled the room.   The gun had misfired.  The sound of running feet could be heard behind Justin, and the unknown murderer suddenly threw the gun down and turned to race out the open garden door.  Without thinking, Justin rushed over to the fallen gun and picked it up... his only thought, to keep it from being used again.  He moved over to Oscar's lifeless body just as the servant who had ushered him into the house burst through the drawing room door.  Justin started to speak but the woman spoke first.

"You!  What have you done?  Don't shoot me... please!"

That was when Justin realized he was holding the gun.  "No!  No!  I didn't do this!  You've got to believe me!"

Justin started to stand up when the woman began screaming.  The sound caused panic to rise in Justin's heart and all rational thought left him.  He threw one more, "I didn't do this," over his shoulder and dropped the gun as he ran out of the house, following in the footsteps of the real killer.  Justin kept going for miles until he was finally able to hail a cab.  He gave the address for Daphne's place and sat back.   He couldn't think straight.  He needed to talk to someone who was level headed.  He prayed all the way to her apartment house that she could help him make sense of what had just happened, and maybe tell him what he should do next.  

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March 31, 1935:  New York City, New York:

Daphne came out of her bedroom and checked on her sleeping friend stretched out restlessly on her couch.  Poor Justin had been in a state of panic when he arrived at her place the previous night, and it had taken some doing to help him calm down enough to tell her what had happened to him.  She couldn't believe her ears.  Her first instinct had been to call the police immediately, but Justin rushed to stop her.  He explained to her again how he couldn't identify the man who actually shot Mr. Vanderbeke, and how he had been the only one in the room when the maid had hurried in... even worse, he had been holding the gun while bending over the body.  He knew he was innocent but if he was arrested he could never prove it.  He wouldn't be the first innocent man who went to prison.  After hashing it out into the wee hours of the morning, they had finally gone to sleep agreeing to use a fresh eye on the situation in the morning.  

Daphne opened her apartment door to see if her daily paper had been delivered.  She found it in the usual spot alongside her quart bottle of milk and pulled them in quickly.  She walked slowly to her kitchen table with the milk bottle under her arm and the paper open in front of her.  She came to a dead halt when she saw the prominent headline....

'Young Artist Sought in Murder of Art Collector!'

She almost dropped the milk.  She quickly set it on her kitchen table and rushed to Justin's side.  She began shaking him until he finally snapped awake, befuddled by the unfamiliar morning surroundings.  The fog cleared from his brain as the events of the previous night came flooding back.  Soon his friend had his rapt attention as she began reading the front page article.  It became clear that Justin was suspected of murdering Mr. Vanderbeke and was being hunted all over town.  

"I've got to turn myself in," Justin cried out.  

"You could do that, but I have another idea.  What about you leaving town until this dies down a little?  In the meantime I could hire a detective and try to figure out who the real killer is.  Then it would be safe for you to come back."

"I don't want you getting mixed up in this Daph.  It could be dangerous.  What if the killer figures out what you are up to?"

"How is anyone going to connect me to anything?  Look, I'll be real discreet.  You know I can afford it since I received that inheritance from my Grandfather.  I even know where you should go.  Our family has a vacation home in California, just off the beaches of Malibu.  No one goes there this late in the Winter.  No one would think to look for you there."

"I don't know Daph.  You could get in real trouble helping me.  Besides, they'll be looking for me.  How would I get there?"

Daphne had been casually thumbing through the paper as they talked without paying any attention to what she was reading.  Just then a picture caught her eye.  It was on the Entertainment page and showed a snapshot of a large group of women holding various musical instruments.  Like a bolt of lightning, a wild thought flashed through Daphne's head.  

"I think I've got it," she all but shouted.  "Look at this article."

Daph proceeded to read about the DeeBee's All Ladies Orchestra from New York City that had received an offer to appear in one of MGM's splashy new musical films.  They were traveling by train to Hollywood, California that very evening.  

"This is how you can travel incognito.  Who is going to be looking for a cute blond fellow traveling with an all girl orchestra to California?"

"What as?" Justin asked nervously, already suspecting what his friend had in mind.

Daphne grinned.  "Oh no!  No you don't!  You are not getting me to dress up as a woman and try to blend in with an all girl orchestra!  Hell, I don't even know how to play an instrument."

Daphne laughed out loud.  "Come on Justin.  I didn't say you had to play with them.  You just have to look like you belong with them.  Look, there are over twenty gals there.   What's one more?  And besides, you'll make a very cute girl... trust me."

Justin turned pale.  The thought scared him almost as much as getting caught and not being able to prove his innocence.  He knew he had no time to waste.  Daphne had already said the train was leaving that evening.  He quickly made up his mind.  He was sure he was making the biggest mistake of his life, but even the slight chance of figuring out who the real killer was before being arrested was enough incentive.  Justin gave up arguing and followed Daphne to her bedroom where she immediately began rummaging in her closet for something to fit her best friend.  She would have to go out and buy a wig, but other than that, she was all ready to turn Justin into Justina, despite his avid protests.   She loved the guy and knew she had to do whatever it took to keep him safe and out of jail.  With that thought in mind, she began taking the necessary steps to help Justin become a man on the run.

To be continued...................