“Oh, don’t be silly.” Mummy laughed but I could tell she was flattered. Perhaps she was playing hard to get. “Besides, I have no time to be in Hollywood. This is only a short trip then I must return to dear Max in Germany. He hates it when I am away.”

“So where exactly are you going in the States?” Cy asked.

“Reno, if you must know,” Mummy said. “I have been tied to an annoying husband who doesn’t believe in divorce. But my current beau is insisting that we get married, and I’ve been told that a divorce can be arranged simply and easily in Reno.”

“Yes, but not overnight, honey,” Cy Goldman said. “Ask Stella. She can tell you. She went through it when she got rid of Freddie.”

“English husband, darling. Quite impossible. Drank like a fish and went after anything in skirts that didn’t play bagpipes.”

“So how long does it take, exactly?” Mummy asked.

“There’s a six-week residency requirement,” Stella said.

“Six weeks?” Mummy looked aghast. “I have to live in Nevada for six weeks? Why didn’t anyone tell me that?”

“There are ways around it,” Cy said. “Tell her, Stella.”

“Some people check into a resort and lounge in the sun and have a good time,” she said, “I did. It was bliss. Lovely swimming pool and gambling at night. But if you’re really against being stuck in the middle of nowhere you rent yourself a little house out in the boonies, make sure you’re seen around and then pay someone to take your place.”

“I can pay someone to take my place?”

“Sure you can. You let them know that because you’re a famous lady you’re steering clear of any bad publicity. You arrange to have food delivered, and ensure you are seen in the distance from time to time. Then you show up again when you go before the judge. They don’t ask too many questions in Reno. It’s a primary source of income for the state.”

Cy thumped one fist against the other. “And during those six weeks you make a picture with us. What could be simpler? We’ll put you up at the Beverly Hills Hotel. You’ll come out to my castle on the hill on weekends. You’ll have a ball. So will the young lady. She’ll meet movie stars instead of cowboys. Much more fun than dreary Nevada.”

Mummy was fiddling with her hair—a sure sign she was nervous. “Is there no way around this six week business?”

“Sure. You can go to Guam. I hear they’ll issue you with a divorce on the spot there.”

“Guam? Where is that?”

“On the other side of the Pacific Ocean,” Goldman said. “A long boat ride. Primitive. Grass huts. Mosquitoes. And no luxury liners like this. Tramp steamers all the way with an Oriental crew who drink.”