[IC] Act One: Los Angeles

Act One: Los Angeles



Theme Tune

Date: 31 May, 1937

It takes several days in total, stopping off at small airfields on the way from Savannah to Los Angeles, and with Lillian engrossed in the journal, occasionally muttering in a corner with Dr Walker about the contents, or trying to work out what Henslowe meant in a particular passage, while Samuel shares the cockpit with Frank, shooting the breeze and reminiscing about the old days. Eventually you land at Grand Central airport, on the outskirts of the city.



Despite the name, it's another small, regional airport, consisting of a single runway, a tower and attached terminal building, and a few hangars. Still, it has a storied history, as Frank relates as you taxi to a halt, with amongst others, Charles Lindbergh, Amelia Earhart, Laura Ingalls, and Albert Forsythe and Charles Anderson (the first black aviators to make transcontinental flights) having been based there, not to mention a large number of Hollywood stars who travel via the airport.

On this occasion, however, there's no sign of anyone famous, just ground crew wearily toiling in the sun. It's a hot day, though much drier than Savannah was, and you don't find yourself covered in sweat immediately as you step from the plane. Everyone you see is dressed casually, unbuttoned shorts, loose pants, even sandals here and there! You also see a greater ethnic diversity here, even at the airfield, black, white, and Asian men and women working together. At least here you shouldn't have to stay in separate hotels. Speaking of which, what sort of hotel are you going to look for?

You do at least manage to pick up a map of the Greater LA region at the airport too:




Impending Doom Points: 4

Gabriel is glad to have some solid ground under their feet. He stretches after the long flight.

"Thank you Frank, you are a fine pilot. I cannot say the same of myself as a passenger, I'm afraid."

Turning to Lillian and Sam, "we can finally book to stay in the same hotel, here. That will make things easier.
We should maybe look at the larger hotels in town, on the off-chance it was where Vincent Stack stayed. The journal says he stayed in 'Room 225'... that usually means second floor, room 25 - not many hotels have 25 rooms on a floor, right?"

He looks for a Phone Directory in the airport, to get a sense of the large hotels in town... once located, he will try calling to enquire about the size of their floors!

"A large hotel might be safer, too... now we have opposition," he adds.

The hotel search is quickly complicated when Dr Walker discovers that there are many motels (most with two floors) that have at least 25 rooms per floor, as well as a number of larger hotels. It would take quite a while to discover which one they used (most hotels also won't give out information about guests who stayed there a decade ago). And, of course, whatever rooms they stayed in would have been cleaned (and possibly even renovated to keep up with fashions) many times since. It would thus be unlikely that you'd discover anything of use in a hotel room after all this time, even if you could work out which one they used.

What sort of hotel are you looking for? Downtown, in the centre of things, or on the outskirts? 5 star or the cheapest you can find? I take it you'll also hire a car?

"Motels... By the dozens." he mutters in disappointment. "It's like finding a needle in a damn haystack."

He sighs and proposes to the others a mid-range hotel accommodation, something with a concierge at a proper reception, in a central location.

"Somewhere near the Hotel Dunbar, if not actually that place. South Central Avenue. I'd like to take a look at it."

"May as well see if we can get the place in question. Make it easier to snoop around, I would think," Sam muses before turning to Frank. "Frankie... considering some gents knew about us back in Georgia, are you certain you'll be safe with the plane?"

It soon becomes apparent that the Hotel Dunbar is still undergoing work to turn it back into a hotel, after a brief spell as the LA headquarters for the Peace Mission Movement. However, you do come across a decent looking alternative, the Hotel Cecil.



It's a large hotel (700 rooms!) over 14 floors, downtown, and was built in the art deco style. It used to be a much fancier grade, but the depression has brought down the prices (and, it has to be said, the grandeur is now a little faded) to try to keep enough guests in order to make it a going concern.

Location of the Hotel Cecil:

Approaching the Hotel Cecil lobby, Lillian endeavours to make.the group comfortable, possibly raising a few eyebrows as she does so.

The man behind the desk at the Hotel Cecil hardly bats an eye as Lillian approaches, nor does he make any further sign of disapproval when he notices that Lillian is travelling with two white men. You soon find yourselves in possession of three room keys on the same floor, and after a long day's travel, decide to freshen up before dining (together! Such a refreshing change after Savannah!). The three of you discuss your next moves over dinner, concluding that the following morning you'll set off for Long Beach and the First Bank of Long Beach, whose address you receive quickly from the hotel's concierge. Most of the chatter around you is of the Brooklyn Dodgers' win over the NY Giants that evening, ending Carl Hubbell's consecutive record-winning streak of 24 games.

Date: 1 June, 1937

The morning is fresh, sunny, and warm, though dry rather than humid. The concierge tells you that the drive to Long Beach is a pleasant one for the most part, that the area around the beach itself is worth a visit, and that it'll take you the major part of a day for the round trip, but that there are some good seafood restaurants on the beach if you're making a day of it.

You pass quite a few oil derricks on the way, and as you enter the city of Long Beach itself, you notice the telltale signs of the earthquake that you vaguely remember hearing about back in '33 - there are still several buildings being repaired, and others demolished, while others that are still standing appear to have been left to fall apart in their own time, abandoned and damaged. Despite the concierge's words, the area you drive into seems to have been hit hard by the depression - you see quite a few homeless people wandering around, some begging, a number queuing at a soup kitchen, and more than a few businesses closed up and boarded up, even those which survived the earthquake intact.



The First Bank of Long Beach is in such an area, and at first you think that it's one of the buildings being repaired, as there is scaffolding over a large part of the building, and a large crack in the upper wall just above the sign proclaiming it to be the bank, but then you realise that the boarded windows suggest otherwise, and what you took to be workmen taking a break on the damaged steps leading to the front door are in fact a group of homeless people.

It appears that the First Bank of Long Beach is no more.

"I really thought this would be a quick stop," Sam says with a sigh. "Why should anything be easy, eh?"

Discreetly checking his sidearm, Samuel surveys the group occupying the steps. "We're here. I feel like making our way inside to verify the box in question has been removed -- or not. That said..." the Marine pauses as his eyes scan the surroundings, flitting from building to alleyway to roof, searching... "...a more discreet entrance is probably wise. If we can find one."

He looks at the state of the building, then at the homeless folks, in frustration.
"All entrances would have been long found by these gentlemen... I suspect the interior has already been thoroughly scavenged."

He shrugs. "No harm in trying..." He starts examining possible ways of egress, first on the facade of the building, then turning around it, on its side and back - if accessible. "Better stay together, in case these gents get the wrong idea..."

The building is on a corner, with other similar buildings to its left and right on the diagonal; you can't see any other entrance, other than the main door to the front. Scouting around the back reveals that there are other buildings there too, and nothing to suggest that there's any alleyway or similar that might take you to any rear entrances. From a fire safety aspect, it's terrible. There are windows - none on the ground floor, presumably for security concerns, though there are some (boarded up) that you might be able to access from the scaffolding.

As you stand around watching the place, one of the people comes forward from the group of homeless people, dressed in a shabby pair of trousers and with a shirt that's been darned several times and hasn't been washed in a while.



"Can you spare a sandwich for a working man with no job?" he asks Dr Walker.

"Huh? I can certainly buy you one," he says, reaching for some change in his pocket.

He gives the man enough for a simple meal. He tries to hide the action from the other tramps, to avoid being besieged.

"Say, this bank. Has it been like this for long? I am an admirer of the architect, and would love to take a look inside..."

"I guess things could have been moved elsewhere by ... whomever owned it. I suppose we'll see."

Lillian eyes the bank and is somewhat surprised by Dr. Walker's exchange.

The homeless man's face grows dark. "Yeah, since the quake of '33. I used to be a senior clerk here, now I live in the old manager's office. There was a run on the banks, then the quake hit, everyone tried to get their money out of the banks. They started repairing the place, but that was costing too much. If you have any savings there, they're gone and ain't coming back. Bank just ran out of money between the repairs and folks wanting their savings, and the managers didn't have a clue what to do, so they just upped and left, and all of us were out of a job, and none to be had here either. I worked for a few months at the Ford assembly plant, assistant bookkeeper on half what I earned here, but no-one was buying new cars either, so that went out, and I've been here ever since. Once my bank foreclosed on my house, I had nowhere to go, so I'm back at this pace, just living here now instead of working here. FDIC came through about a year too late to save the place, took the books and all the physical assets, whatever was left after the bank's board took their slice and ran. You want to come in and take a look, feel free, ain't no-one going to stop you. Just don;t go messing with anyone's stuff, you know? Folks ain't got much, but they want to keep what they do got."

He listens to the man's story, unfortunately not uncommon in these years of Great Depression. "I am sorry to hear that... this Economy's got to pick up... the crisis cannot last forever..." he says awkwardly, like he's been repeating to himself since 1930 or so, his conviction getting weaker with each repeat.

He sighs, looking at the shut down building. "Yes, we will take a quick look inside, if that's alright. Thanks for the warnings, we will be discreet."

Exchanging a look with his companions, he finds an opening to get inside the former bank and has a look around.

Lillian, somewhat sympathetic, follows Dr. Walker, wondering what they'll find.

"I suppose we'll need to go down at some point," she says, "We might need that man's help."

"Well... one thing at a time, I suppose," Sam replies as he slips inside and gets his bearings.