The Last Days of Marilyn Monroe (51 page)

I
n July 1962, U.S. surveillance satellites photographed newly constructed Cuban long-range ballistic missile installations. Within fifteen weeks the Cuban missile crisis would bring the world to the brink of a nuclear holocaust. At this perilous time in history, J. Edgar Hoover received another confidential memorandum from the FBI office in Mexico City headed “MARILYN MONROE—SECURITY MATTER—C [Communist].”

Dated July 13, 1962—just three weeks prior to Marilyn's death—the document, which was withheld from the FBI's Monroe file, survived in highly censored form in the FBI files of both Peter Lawford and Frederick Vanderbilt Field.

Under the Freedom of Information appeals process, FOI attorney James Lesar was told by the FBI that the source of the censored information in the Monroe memorandum was an informant. The FBI had been requested by another intelligence agency (CIA) not to reveal the informant's name. However, the FBI disclosed to Lesar that the source was someone who knew both Field and Monroe and had recently been in private conversation with both of them.

Only Eunice Murray, José Bolaños, Churchill Murray, and Ralph Greenson fell into that category. The likely informant was Bolaños. Field had claimed that Bolaños was “a man of left-wing pretensions, deeply distrusted by the real left,” when he warned Marilyn not to have anything to do with him.

In March 1962, Bolaños had followed Marilyn back to the United States from Mexico and was her escort at the Golden Globe Awards. When Anthony Summers interviewed Bolaños in 1983, Bolaños stated that he had visited Marilyn in New York in April 1962, and that he last saw her in Los Angeles in early July.

Bolaños is further confirmed as the source by the FBI's disclosure that the details in the confidential memorandum were “heard directly from Marilyn by the informant.” Marilyn is quoted as saying that she “attended a luncheon at Peter Lawford's residence with one of the Kennedy brothers.” Significant questions were discussed, including political matters. One of the “significant questions” had been “the morality of atomic testing.” The FBI indicated that the luncheon at Lawford's home occurred in early July, which was when Bolaños last saw Marilyn.

At this critical juncture of the cold war, the relationship of the Kennedy brothers with Marilyn Monroe became a grave national security matter. American intelligence agencies had become acutely aware of the connection between Monroe and suspected Soviet agent Frederick Vanderbilt Field. The CIA document signed by counterintelligence chief James Jesus Angleton (see “Appendix”) establishes that electronic surveillance had, indeed, been placed on Marilyn's home. At the same time, Field's FBI file indicates that he was under intense surveillance in June and July. Alarms again reverberated down the FBI corridors when agents learned that Field had left Mexico City, crossed the border, and was driving to New York. He arrived on July 10 and was staying as a guest in Marilyn Monroe's apartment at 444 East Fifty-Seventh Street, where he remained for several weeks.

When Bobby Kennedy returned to Washington after viewing the secret hydrogen bomb test, J. Edgar Hoover was waiting with another bomb to explode.

 

On Tuesday, July 17, Marilyn dialed the attorney general's private number but was unable to speak with him. Monroe's telephone records of July 17 indicate that she tried several times to reach Kennedy through the Justice
Department switchboard but was not put through to the attorney general. Following his meeting with Hoover, Bobby Kennedy suddenly cut off communication with Marilyn. Like Jack Kennedy, he offered no explanation.

Jeanne Carmen observed, “All of a sudden she couldn't get through to Bobby. She had no idea what happened, why she couldn't get through. She was extremely angry.”

“Damn it! He owes me an explanation!” Marilyn said to Robert Slatzer. “I want to know what happened, and I want Bobby to tell me himself!”

During July, telephone records indicated that Marilyn tried to reach Kennedy at the Justice Department from her Brentwood home on eight occasions. Marilyn had also tried to reach him at his Hickory Hill home. “Bobby was furious with Marilyn for taking this liberty,” related Patricia Seaton Lawford.

From early July until August 4, the doctors' bills show that Marilyn saw Dr. Greenson on twenty-seven of thirty-five days, and her internist, Dr. Hyman Engelberg, on thirteen. On a number of these visits, the records show that Marilyn received injections. The records may reveal not only her own problems, but those of her doctors as well. Her loss of the Kennedy relationship had been, in a sense, their loss too. At the same time they had considerable concern as to why Marilyn had been suddenly shunned. Perhaps they realized it had been discovered that she was a security problem.

The doctors and the Kennedys had a burgeoning common cause—to keep Marilyn quiet. Greenson could keep a daily update on her state of mind and intentions, and both Greenson and Engelberg could see to it that she was sedated when she was overwhelmed by anger. Engelberg's ex-wife, Esther Maltz, recently made the comment, “Hy kept Marilyn sedated for Dr. Greenson.” And, of course, there was Mrs. Murray, who could keep an eye on Marilyn from within the house and report danger signs.

Robert Slatzer recalled that shortly before he left for Columbus, Ohio, in late July, Marilyn called him from a Brentwood pay phone. She had become convinced her phones were tapped. Marilyn wanted to see him, and it was later that day they drove up the coast to the beach at Point Dume. Slatzer said Marilyn alternated between tears and anger as she spoke about the Kennedys and their refusal to speak to her.

“She was angry and hurt—totally outraged—that they had both cut her off overnight,” Slatzer recalled. “Only two months ago she had been singing happy birthday to the president and was the celebrated guest at the party that followed. That association meant a great deal to her. Sud
denly it was over and she felt she had been used, mistreated, and then totally rejected.”

While Marilyn and Slatzer were discussing her problems, she pulled out of her large carryall handbag some papers wrapped with a rubber band. They were handwritten notes from Bobby Kennedy—some of them on Justice Department stationery. She also showed Slatzer her red diary and allowed him to browse through it. Inside, he saw notes pertaining to conversations with the Kennedys regarding the Bay of Pigs, Castro, the Mafia, and Jimmy Hoffa. When Slatzer asked Marilyn why she had made the notes, she said, “Because Bobby liked to talk about political things. He got mad at me one day because he said I didn't remember anything he told me.”

Slatzer questioned what she was going to do if Jack or Bobby Kennedy continued not speaking with her, and Marilyn angrily responded, “I might just hold a press conference. I've certainly got a lot to say!”

Marilyn Monroe was in a position to bring down the presidency. She was cognizant of Jack Kennedy's marital infidelities and other private matters. She had his notes and letters and was privy to Kennedy's involvement with Sam Giancana. That the Kennedy brothers had discussed national security matters with the film star added to an astonishing array of indiscretions. The Profumo affair, which eventually brought down the British government, was to surface in the following year.

A number of people have questioned just how serious Marilyn may have been about calling a press conference. Marilyn was notable for not speaking ill of anybody. She once said to Sidney Skolsky, “I've never been in a public fight or feud. I have the most wonderful memory for forgetting things.” But Jeanne Carmen observed that Marilyn was extremely angry and determined. She believed Marilyn would have told all had she lived. But as long as her career remained hostage to Judge Rosenman and the Kennedy faction on the Fox board, Marilyn had no choice but to remain silent. As the crucial date of the boardroom battle for control neared, Marilyn's million-dollar contract still remained unsigned on Micky Rudin's desk.

 

It was a hot and humid day in New York City on Wednesday, July 25, when the 20th Century-Fox board gathered for the decisive conflict. With Judge Samuel Rosenman presiding, Darryl F. Zanuck and Spyros Skouras sat opposite their adversaries as Milton Gould launched a vicious verbal assault on Zanuck. Characterized as “a womanizer, a drunk, a prolifigate
gambler, and a producer of flops,” Zanuck remained calm as his detractors attempted to demean his reputation.

“The bile just poured out of them,” Zanuck said later. “It was filthy stuff—mostly about my private life.”

When the torrent of invective concluded, Rosenman turned to Zanuck and said, “And now perhaps Mr. Zanuck would tell us what he would do for the company if he
did
become president.”

Lighting up a cigar, Zanuck stood and said, “I have nothing to say. If you want me, fine. If not, get somebody else!” He then continued on with a four-hour tirade about the mismanagement of the studio, and the giant financial losses that had accrued in his absence. At the conclusion he was elected president by a vote of eight to three. The three voting against him were Rosenman, Gould, and Loeb. They promptly resigned, and Spyros Skouras, the former president, replaced Rosenman as chairman of the board.

With Zanuck's victory, Marilyn had won.
Something's Got to Give
would resume filming as soon as schedules could be arranged. Marilyn Monroe would be the star under the new million-dollar contract she was now ready to sign. She was no longer hostage to the Kennedys. The “dumb blonde” had outmaneuvered “the General.”

O
n July 28 and 29, a week prior to her death, Marilyn spent the weekend at the Cal-Neva Lodge in Lake Tahoe. What really happened on this mysterious weekend has been obscured by speculation and the misleading statements of Peter Lawford. Those few who witnessed the events have been loath to say what actually took place.

Paul “Skinny” D'Amato, who managed the Cal-Neva Lodge for owners Frank Sinatra and Sam Giancana, remembered Marilyn's visit well, and though he wouldn't talk about it in great detail, he made the statement to Anthony Summers, “There was more to what happened than anyone has told. It would have been the big fall for Bobby Kennedy, wouldn't it?” Immediately regretting that he said anything at all, D'Amato murmured, “Of course, I didn't say that….”

But Skinny had said enough. The raison d'être for the “mysterious weekend” was to persuade Marilyn, by whatever means, not to go to the press. Not only would it have been “the big fall for Bobby Kennedy,” it would have been the “big fall” for the executive branch of the government and a whole coterie of people associated with the Kennedy clan as well
as Sam Giancana. Stakes were high. Fates were on the line, and Sinatra and his partner, Giancana, were in it for the big Kennedy marker.

Sinatra orchestrated the sinister occasion, ostensibly inviting Marilyn to Cal-Neva to celebrate her new deal with Fox and discuss her next film,
What a Way to Go
, which was to costar Sinatra. According to Ralph Roberts, Marilyn had no real desire to go, but Dean Martin was headlining in the Celebrity Room that weekend, and Marilyn was hoping to persuade him to rearrange his nightclub schedule so that
Something's Got to Give
could resume filming in the last week of August. But there was a hidden agenda, and the desperate import of the weekend can be surmised by the odd nexus of people that Old Blue Eyes brought together.

Sinatra flew Marilyn to Cal-Neva in his private plane,
Christina
, complete with wall-to-wall carpeting, carved wood paneling, bar salon, piano, and luxurious bathroom with heated toilet seats. Sinatra's plane also picked up Peter Lawford, the man Sinatra had threatened to “punch in the face” after Jack Kennedy had changed his plans about staying at Sinatra's Palm Springs estate. Sinatra and Peter hadn't spoken since that incident, nor were they to speak again, but Lawford and his wife, Pat, had influence over Marilyn, and on this weekend there were other considerations that took priority—even over vindictiveness.

The Lawfords were having marital difficulties. Peter had been drinking heavily and made no pretense about his debauchery. Pat spent most of her time on the East Coast, away from him, but Marilyn had more regard for Pat than for Peter, and they had become friends. Because Pat was able to reason with Marilyn, and had some influence over her, she too flew to Cal-Neva from Hyannisport.

Marilyn's friend Gloria Romanoff was at the lodge when Marilyn arrived, as was another guest whom Marilyn hadn't expected to see, Sam Giancana. Because Giancana was identified by the Nevada Gaming Commission as a guest at Cal-Neva that weekend, Sinatra would later lose his gambling license.

According to Robert Slatzer, Marilyn had been told that Bobby Kennedy might be there. The attorney general had been in Los Angeles the previous day. The Beverly Hills Hotel guest register shows that he had checked in on Thursday, July 26, and departed on Friday, July 27. Though the Kennedy Library retains the attorney general's daily diary and appointment records covering his years in office, portions of the July and August records are not available, their whereabouts unknown.

Arthur Jacobs's secretary, Peggy Randall, recalled that she was working
alone at the Sunset Boulevard office on Saturday, July 28, when a call came in from Bobby Kennedy. Randall said that Kennedy was trying to reach Pat Newcomb. Stating that it was urgent, Kennedy left a number for Newcomb to call, but Randall doesn't recall where he was calling from. She stated, “It wasn't unusual for Robert Kennedy to call Pat Newcomb there at the office. He had called her there on a number of previous occasions.”

Marilyn's name never appeared on the Cal-Neva register. She was put in bungalow 52, part of a complex reserved for special guests of Sinatra and Giancana. Bellboys who delivered food to her room said that the door was usually answered by Peter Lawford and that they never saw her leave the room.

Mae Shoopman, who at that time was a cashier at Cal-Neva, recalled, “She kept herself disguised pretty much, kept herself covered with a black scarf and dark glasses and stayed in her room most of the time. She would sleep with the telephone at her ear open to the switchboard. I think she was afraid.”

It soon became apparent to Marilyn why she had been brought to Cal-Neva. It wasn't a gathering of friends; they wanted her to forget about the Kennedy brothers and to ensure her silence.

Giancana was there to enforce just how important it was to him that Marilyn didn't cause any trouble. Sam was not a man to mince words. If Marilyn became a problem, he undoubtedly made it clear to her that problems could be dealt with.

According to Susan Strasberg, when Marilyn returned from Cal-Neva she told Paula Strasberg she was “afraid of the Mafia,” but Strasberg had passed her comment off as paranoia.

Marilyn also spoke to Ralph Roberts about the Cal-Neva weekend: “She told me it was a nightmare, a dreadful weekend. She said she didn't want to go particularly and once she got there, she felt like a prisoner, and that the only friend she had there was Joe DiMaggio, and she wasn't able to see him.”

Joe DiMaggio arrived unexpectedly. Had she called him when she became afraid? He was staying in San Francisco, which was less than an hour's flight away. Bell captain Ray Langford recalled that DiMaggio arrived late Saturday night and wasn't allowed to stay at the Lodge. Langford helped him get a room at the nearby Silver Crest Motel. DiMaggio asked where Marilyn was, but Langford didn't know because she wasn't registered. Langford's brother, Joe, who had picked Marilyn up at the
airport, later revealed that Sinatra had issued orders that DiMaggio wasn't to enter the hotel or have his calls put through.

A Cal-Neva doorman later told the poignant story of looking down at the pool on Sunday morning as a fog was settling in on the Tahoe shore. He was surprised to see Marilyn standing “at the edge of the pool, barefoot, swaying back and forth. She was staring up at the hill.” The doorman followed her gaze up to the foothills above the rustic lodge, and standing there in the mist staring back was Joe DiMaggio. It was the last time DiMaggio would see her alive.

According to DiMaggio's friend Harry Hall, DiMaggio was enraged about what had happened to Marilyn at Cal-Neva that weekend. He was furious with Sinatra, and he was furious with the Kennedys. “He was very upset,” stated Hall. “She went up there, they gave her pills, they had sex parties—I don't think he's ever talked to Sinatra again.”

Photographer Billy Woodfield, who worked for both Marilyn and Sinatra, saw darker images of the Cal-Neva weekend. Woodfield stated that when Sinatra returned from Cal-Neva, he brought Woodfield a roll of film to be developed. In his darkroom the photographer was shocked to see that the photos were of an unconscious Marilyn Monroe being sexually abused in the presence of Sam Giancana and Sinatra. Marilyn had been drugged in order for the compromising photos to be taken.

When Sinatra was given the negatives and prints, Woodfield suggested that Sinatra burn them, but the pictures were intended to ensure Marilyn's silence.

The FBI's surveillance of Giancana corroborates the appalling story. Agent Bill Roemer, who was working with the Chicago Crime Commission, had Giancana under electronic surveillance in 1962. He reports that shortly after Marilyn's death, Johnny Roselli had gone to Chicago to confer with Giancana. Agent Roemer recorded a conversation between the two Mafia mobsters:

“The conversation was muted,” Roemer says, “but what I had gleaned was that Giancana had been at Cal-Neva, the Lake Tahoe resort, with Sinatra and Marilyn the week before she died. There, from what I had been able to put together, she was involved in an orgy. From the conversation I overheard, it appeared she may have had sex with Giancana. Roselli said to Giancana, ‘You sure get your rocks off fucking the same broad as the brothers, don't you.'”

Roemer was surprised to learn that Roselli was referring to the brothers Kennedy.

Peter Lawford later gave a false account of the Cal-Neva weekend in order to support the suicide scenario that was promulgated after Marilyn Monroe's death. He supplied various accounts of Marilyn having attempted suicide and overdosed that mysterious weekend. Lawford stated, “She tried to kill herself the night of July 28, and she finally succeeded on August 4.” He described the incident at Cal-Neva as an overdose caused by her despondency over being fired by Fox. But Lawford knew that Marilyn had been victorious in her fight with Fox, and had, in fact, been elated by her victory. “When Marilyn left,” said Joe Langford, “it was in an awful hurry. I think she was giving them some problems.” Barbara Lieto, the widow of Sinatra's pilot, recalled that her husband was ordered to Lake Tahoe on short notice on Sunday afternoon, July 29. According to Mrs. Lieto, Peter Lawford and Marilyn returned together and Marilyn appeared to be intoxicated or drugged. The plane arrived in Los Angeles after midnight, and Mrs. Lieto recalled her husband saying that Lawford argued with him about where they should land. Lawford insisted that they land at the Santa Monica Airport, but Lieto pointed out that the airport was closed after midnight. When the plane finally landed at Los Angeles International, Marilyn was “out of it, a mess.” Barefoot, she walked from the plane to her limousine, and the crew gave Lawford a ride to his beach house in their car. Mrs. Lieto remembered that her husband was angry because Lawford insisted on stopping a few blocks from his home to make a twenty-minute telephone call from a pay phone. The pilot wondered why Lawford couldn't have waited a few minutes and made the call from his house. By then, Lawford had undoubtedly learned from Bobby Kennedy that his house was under electronic surveillance. Who would Lawford have telephoned about an imperative confidential matter before dawn that Monday morning?

The White House telephone records indicate that the president received a call of eighteen minutes' duration from Lawford on Monday morning, July 30, at 8:40
A.M.
, or 5:40
A.M.
Pacific time. Clearly, the Marilyn Monroe problem had reached a crucial impasse.