THE PRINTS AND THE POPPER ~ ~ Epic*sode 8 ~ ~ "TOO COOL!" ~ By Absolutely*Kate and Harry B. Sanderford of Harbinger*33

~ PRESENTING OUR

   MYSTERY*MATINEE ~

 "THE PRINTS

AND THE POPPER"

  


FROM WHERE WE LEFT OFF

 IN LAST WEEK'S CLIFFHANGER

 *AT THE BIJOU*

CATCHING UP ON CLIFFHANGERS?

JUST CLICK EPIC*SODES BELOW:

Epic'sode 7: "Meet Virginia" ... Epic'sode 6: "I See the Light"...

Epic'sode 5: "Lucky Shot"... Epic'sode 4: "Hi Jinks"...

Epic'sode 3: "Groping Against Grope"...
Epic'sode 2: "The Clot Thickens"...
and the original mysterious start of it all ...

 
 "THE PRINTS AND THE POPPER"

 

~ ~ EPIC*SODE 8 ~ ~

" Too Cool! "

~ By Absolutely*Kate 

and 
Harry B. Sanderford

  

For years of her West-coast career climb, folks got rather used to saying, "In for a Penny, out for a gold nugget", in regards to the success ratio of ferret-mining greater truths from shady grey areas which Penelope Payne presented clearly and endearingly in synthesized black and white to the public's winking eye. They got it. They got it. And oh how they loved it. Far past a "My Oh My!", savvy folks cheered on her direct spit-in-the-eye approach as the thorough type of investigative reporter who researched, interpreted and then clearly communicated uncovered secrets some would prefer to keep low-down quiet. 

Born to a soft spoken family who ran a small but successful hotel outside of LA, Penelope grew and grew up her talents across the wide countryside, putting the kabosh on many a widespread crime scheme. Her signature style of deep digging entrenched her in readers' minds and memories across the Rockies into what detritus the Windy City blew around harsh streets. Chicago was tough but she gave that town her razzamatazz and made it boldly her own. Made herself some enemies too, some say spurring her eastward momentum a little quicker than her well-plotted plans would've had it. Penny stayed with the current along the Great Lakes, and having a fondness for slightly older men of fame, enjoyed Cleveland more than most while dating several inductees to the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, gathering insider info and rocking  rhythms as she continued her East Coast roll and role, to become the Hazeltown Holler's claim to international fame.

 

Penelope's beat into exposing limelight misappropriations from public officials, the corporate sector and special interest groups would've normally driven other staff reporters envy-green. Respect and admiration however, from both professional comrades and intellectual townsfolk carried so many to higher ground and opportunites with the clean-up batting she brought home, that she was a runaway hit in Hazeltown. The Holler became known in press syndicates for providing generous AP tips and Reuter whiffs of what-was-up on occasions where benefit rippled common good. Past normal broadcast channels, Payne developed a chain of in-the-know links generally never suspected in the breakdown of an open Pandora. 

Frances Jeanette Cheezum was just such an enriching link, living and loving harmony now in tony Hazeltown as hometown darling of the local theatre review. Penny knew plenty of "Frannie C's" past ~ as few would ever fathom. The leverage she used was kind and its need touched the humanity of Cheezum's mind. She'd been a willing player of dispense and stir for decades now. But she hadn't been in her usual row #9 for their weekly theatre exchange AT THE BIJOU earlier today. Payne feared a rat had got to Cheezum before they were able to spring their trap.

That's why she was at The Lucky Shot, hands down, best place in town for getting lucky with how loose lipped leaks and lackadaisical liquored bravado could pummel two and two way past a fourth round. Dan Stine she recognized as the still slightly miffed Sergeant passed over for a well deserved promotion within the regional crimestoppers force. Powers-that-be had eleventh hour opted for the charm and pomp of the Aussie Phillips, as everyone in a hundred mile radius knew Hazeltown was a breeding ground for cosmopolitans on the lam. Somehow, they blended past blur with the non-yokel locals. Perhaps that's why Payne had found here her best refrain. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Eddie peeked through the mahogany double doors to spy Misses Kate, Sugar, Zelda and his piano teacher Mrs. Poe all questioning Lieutenant Phillips at once.  The yellow tape had been stretched out front just as Mr. Leon had predicted and all of the other officers and firemen, except for one, were gone. The fireman remaining held the leash of a dog that had stretched to its far end and was simultaneously growling and beeping. Lieutenant Phillips raised his hands and instructed, “One at a time ladies, please!”

It was enough of a distraction Eddie thought, so he eased the door open and once again motioned for Leon to follow him. They went quickly and unnoticed past the candy counters and up the stairs to the projection booth.  

 

Eddie ducked under the yellow crime scene tape stretched across the doorway thinking, Coooool! Leon pulled the tape loose from one jam and let it dangle on the other before walking through. Eddie thought, Too Cooooool!  

The first thing that struck them was the chalk outline. Well, not just the chalk outline, where it seemed weeks and weeks ago Eddie and Sugar had first found poor Sparky. No, it was the perfect popcorn outline outside of the chalk and the way it had created a sort of Sparky constellation on the carpet that gave them pause.

 

“Mr. Leon do you see…”

 

“Yes son (there was just no breaking some habits) I do,” Leon cut him off. “That is truly a first for me too. Don’t step over there and try not to touch anything.”

“What are we looking for?” Eddie asked.

 

“We’ll know it when we see it.” shrugged Leon, and with that they began a slow inspection of the cramped projection quarters. The shelves were stacked with film reels and paperback westerns that Chester liked to read once he’d seen a movie a number of times. Leon disregarded his own admonition thumbing through a stack of cardboard cutouts leaning against a file cabinet. Luke Skywalker he thought wore a rather serious expression for a hero sandwiched between Elvira and Jessica Rabbit. He leaned them back and reaching behind a short stack of Zane Greys turned a magic 8 ball in his hand that revealed all signs point to yes. He wished he’d thought of a question first and then wondered if maybe he had. 

 

Eddie kept his hands in his pockets not trusting himself. He inventoried the individual components of clutter usually viewed as a whole in a naked glance. Three boxes of Sno-Caps stacked by a confiscated joy buzzer and a yoyo with no string. A hip pocket flask of sloe gin that Eddie had sneaked sips from, tucked behind them where it always was. Leon looked at a row of coffee mugs with people’s names on them. Seemed like one for everyone, Sugar, Kate, Harry, Eddie . . . ”Did Sparky have a regular coffee cup he used?” he asked the boy. 

“Miss Kate got those for all of us last year. Sparky usually got an orange soda from the fountain on his way in but when he had coffee he just used Chester’s,” Eddie replied. 

 

Leon used his handkerchief to lift the one with Chester on the front and took a sniff. He recoiled from the noxious odor and sat the cup back. “Junior, Partner, I think it’s time we break in your Super Spy Private Eye Fingerprinting Kit.", Leon winked. 

Eddie was too excited to correct his partner about his name this time. Partner was just fine.
 

* C * L * I * F * F * H * A * N * G * E * R * !

* AT THE BIJOU * 

Please return to next Saturday's Matinee

for the next gut-gripping epic'sode!

" The Prints and The Popper "