Since she left her native Mexico 16 years ago, sometime Cinemactress Linda Christian, 33, has mastered most of the trick-or-treat rules of the international set. She racked up a lushly alimonied divorce from Tyrone Power, was the rumored reason for the divorce of British Actor Edmund Purdom. She collected some controversial jewelry from Milwaukee Playboy Robert Schlesinger, kissed the Marquis Alfonso de Portago goodbye before he raced his Ferrari off to death in last year's Mille Miglia in Italy. Linda learned a lot, but last week she proved she was still no match for Brazil's brand of sportive millionaires, who rake in profits of 30% or 40% a year, laugh at income taxes and still have time to dream up practical jokes.
Out of Sight. In a Rome nightclub two months ago with Brazil's metals-rich Francisco ("Baby") Pignatari, Linda lost a jade earring. Sympathetically, the 41-year-old Baby suggested a trip to Hong Kong for a replacement, and off they flew. When their shopping was done, they decided to go on around the world to Rio. Linda collected a few baubles along the way—including a $4,000 diamond "engagement ring."
Before the wedding, Linda made a quick trip home to Mexico from Rio. As soon as her plane was out of sight, Baby called in the press and, reported the Brazil Herald,'"told reporters that his affair with Linda Christian was definitely at an end." Later, Baby put his position more bluntly. "I made no promises," he said. "I just said we were engaged so I could get her into the same hotel suites with me." Linda dashed back, spent several days chasing Baby by phone, then made a face-saving retreat to a film festival at Uruguay's Punta del Este. At festival's end she got a cable: RETURN QUICKLY.
I NEED YOU. BABY.
It was a joke by one of Pignatari's chums, but Linda took the bait. She hurried back, made a luncheon date with Baby. But instead of keeping the date Baby threw a special kind of going-away party. At 2 p.m. a dozen hooting taxis began circling Linda's hotel. From each flapped a banner bearing the legend, "Go Home Linda." Tooting trumpets, 30 recruits from Rio's slums marched up waving more "Linda Go Home" signs. Then, from the windows of Baby's suite in an adjoining hotel came a hail of firecrackers and a 20-ft. banner. The message was the same: LINDA GO HOME.
Lesson No. 2. Linda parried as best she could, sarcastically yawned that "all this is very curious, very original. I'm only sorry I missed it all. I was fast asleep." The go-home campaign was unnecessary anyway, she added: "I am only here because another man has my passport and won't let me go."
The other man. Pharmaceutical Tycoon Dirceu Fontoura, 46, handed Linda a second lesson in Brazilian playboy manners. After a party on Fontoura's yacht, Linda happily told newsmen Fontoura had proposed. Questioned by reporters, Fontoura gleefully chuckled: "Linda Christian? I think I met her once." He denied that she was ever on his yacht, denied proposing. "She's a funny girl. She must be playing games or making jokes." Before any more games could be played with her, Linda hopped a plane for Miami.