THE PRINTS AND THE POPPER ~ ~ Epic*sode 15 ~ "A WISE ASS" ~ By Absolutely*Kate and Harry B. Sanderford of Harbinger*33

  EXTRA! EXTRA!

READ ALL ABOUT IT!

  
* MURDER*MYSTERY *

* MATINEE *

  
"THE PRINTS

 AND 

THE POPPER"

FROM WHERE WE LEFT OFF

 IN OUR LAST CLIFFHANGER

*AT THE BIJOU*

  

"I read
 the news
 today, 
 oh boy"

Saaaaay --

  CLIFFHANGER CATCHUPS?

Just Click Epic*sodes:

    

Epic'sode 14 ~ A Wrinkle in Time

Epic'sode 13 ~ Lucky For You?

Epic'sode 12 ~ Midnight Cowboy

Epic'sode 11 ~ The Shadow Knows

Epic'sode 10 ~ The Pissing Match

 Epic'sode 9 ~ Chain, Chain, Chain 
Epic'sode 8 ~ Too Cool!

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 mystery of it all ~  Epic'sode 1 ~

 THE PRINTS AND THE POPPER

 

 

 ~ ~ EPIC*SODE 15 ~ ~

"A WISE ASS "

~ By Absolutely*Kate

and 

Harry B. Sanderford

"I read
 the news
 today,
 oh girl"
 

ALL THE LATEST RIPPLE-ROARIN' RAGE,  . . . the hot hot-off-the-presses headline in Sunday's HAZLETOWN HOLLER was still sizzling and shaking up suspense. 

The reach of good newsprint paging out? 

 

GABARDINE WRINKLE

IN BIJOU BLOODBATH!

 

Ah, very well read -- even between the lines -- from homes to hangouts, from hospital to . . . hideaway? 

 

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

 

Attention to detail makes all the difference between the War of 1812 and 1813, the Merrimac and the Monitor, and with eyes veering from the steady green bleep bleeps on his monitor at Mercy Always, back to page 5 of the jump from the headliner in the HAZLETOWN HOLLER, the perspicacious professor propped in a pillow-plumped hospital bed, plotting the perplexities of his iminent escape was not caught unawares by the visage blocking the bleeps of his veering view.

"You're new here aren't you?"

 

"Why no sir, I've been making rounds since the circle was invented it seems some days," smiled back the full fledged flirtation of soft dusky pink Revlon lips just above a midnight blue name tag of NITA GALE on the left side of a crisply white and decidedly snug uniform, practically hidden by what the red cross had on display. "Now, if you'll just roll to your side and hum The Battle Hymn of the Republic you're not going to feel any discomfort at all. Nope, none at all."

Silver flashed a needle whose length was as non de rigeur as the thigh high uniform worn by the fresh as a Kansas country face nurse who did not have a navy blue name tag on the right side of her uniformed presentation. Presentation was everything. Details, details underscored history's premise to that promise. Scholarly insights aside, he was a mortal man after all and curves presented are pause for delight . . . The other side of his cranium spun.  Yet . . . something, perhaps several somethings just did not seem right.

 

He resisted. "Wait! Haven't I seen you in a grad program before? That's not the dress the other nurse wore."

 

She persisted. "Roll over Beethoven and let the music play. It's not going to hurt that bad." She turned to see if the hallway behind the open door was clear. "Shhhh," she whispered. "Prof, it'll turn out OK."

 

He was strong and though prone, not prone to being rolled on his side where his backside was so exposed. His long arms reached to block the strain of her now more serious push. Her face wasn't in Kansas anymore, but tight and focused on intent. Before he could holler, "THIS IS NOT PERFECTLY RIGHT! I DEMAND A LOGICAL EXPLANATION!" the HAZLETOWN HOLLER slipped and slid from his grip and the twist of her wrist to resist slid her point into a very wise ass.

Her gaze was soft. Her gaze was sorry. The fresh as Kansas look was back in her eyes when she paused an extra second to lean over the strong silent man whose perplexities were now looking grim. "Never let the perfect be the enemy of the good, Prof ~ You taught me that."

One hand flipped her pearl rose iPhone from pocket to open as the other shut the door. Swifter than a voicemail can proceed its pacings, Tanya Gall, foreign service operative to the core of the corps, quick changed her allure to the more de rigeur standard blue sundress, neatly folded within the voluminous pockets of the black Coach bag which always had room to hide. Room enough now for a used silver needle wrapped in a white Hazletown Hospital towel. The cleaning cart on the third floor had been a godsend. She wished she was though. How she hated being on the wrong end of a good message.

 

"Manny? Hey, it's me. Now get this and get this good. It's done. It's over. I'm through. Score's been settled. Game's set and you've met your match. He's here. You tell Gabardine he can be picked up but I don't want to know what you're going to do. Just keep him safe, will you? He's one of the good guys. And tell Gabs, this girl is through. I've never seen or heard of you."

 

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

The door swung open. The door closed tight. Before she could clutch another sure shot aid from her Coach, her foreign service op's coach was on the approach to where her deed's destiny could not hide. She'd know that commanding voice and those stunning brown soft leather Calpierres anywhere. Behind a magnificent bouquet of yellow roses, a box of Belgian dark chocolates and the latest copy of Foreign Affairs magazine, Paul Caracas' unmistakable voice queried the scene, "Going some place Tanya?"

 

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

 

GABARDINE WRINKLE

IN BIJOU BLOODBATH!

Yes, it seems Penelope Payne’s damning piece in the HAZLETOWN HOLLER found its way into the hands of nearly everyone involved in our little story. 

 

Leon Davenport fetched his copy from his front door welcome mat while the Folgers perked. Eddie read the article online from his laptop while IMing with Mary Lou. Sugar read it to Zelda over their morning Cheerios and then Zelda rolled it up to whack Sergeant Stine awake and shoo him from their couch and off to work. Harry didn’t need to read the newspaper, he was already thinking fast trying to keep from making news himself.

 

“Avery? You’re saying Avery had me abducted? My God Harry, I have to say I’m surprised and more than a little disappointed to find that you would fall in with that bastard.”

 

“I haven’t fallen in with that bastard Jeanette, and nobody calls him Avery.”

 

“I’ll see that he’s called a hell of a lot worse before this is over Harry and I’ll think up a few things to call you too.”

 

“Sticks and stones Jay C, but for right now you must be able to see our predicament,” Harry waggled the gun and shrugged what can I say?   

“Why are you doing this Harry, what the hell does he have on you? It’s not exactly like you are hurting for money.”

It was true, Harry had always been lucky. He’d been lucky in business, lucky with the ladies and more often than not, lucky picking the ponies. Anyone would say his life was charmed. That is at least, until Boss Gabardine set him up.  

“Jeanette, you’ve been out of the loop, so let me fill you in. Eugene was just supposed to keep you company long enough for the City Council to OK breaking ground on The Boss’s proposed sports park and gaming facility. It passed narrowly without your vote yesterday by the way. I had no part in any of that. I was called after the fact. You can believe that or not but so far, one person is dead and the Professor's wound up in the hospital. I was on my way there to ask him about something he’d said when I got the call to check up on Eugene. I think you have to admit things were not going all that well for you when I got here," Harry meant to be sarcastic but when she touched her throat he felt ashamed. "Look Jay, you’re just going to have to trust me when I tell you that it’s not a very good idea for you to be popping to the surface right now.”

“Who, who is dead? Is the Professor ok?” Jeanette had to sit down.

“Spangler or Spackler, the new projectionist AT THE BIJOU anyway. Word has it he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was Chester Hanks they really wanted. Do you believe that, Hookem Hanks? Some kind of bloody mess in the ladies room there too. I don’t know about that or just how Chester fits into all this but you can see The Boss very clearly wants you out of the picture.  As far as everyone knows, you are missing. I aim to keep it that way and I think I know someone who can help.”

                         

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  
 

Kate started the coffee and dropped two toaster waffles in before padding barefoot to the front door for her morning paper. Opening the door she was alarmed to see a rather rumpled Jeanette Cheezum standing before her and Harry bent down beside her retrieving the newspaper. 

GABARDINE WRINKLE

IN BIJOU BLOODBATH!

Odd good morning pleasantries were awkwardly exchanged and waffle smoke curled upwards in its own alarming fashion before Kate gathered her wits and pulled them both quickly inside. 

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

* AT THE BIJOU * 

Mosey on over to next Sunday's Matinee

for the next gut-gripping epic'sode!

" The Prints and The Popper "

Visual Mood selections ala EringTaylor8,

DidNotSpillCoffee and Harry's Wizardry

(c) 2010 ~ Dashing Duet Authors

  Absolutely*Kate and Harry B. Sanderford

Exclusive  ~ AT THE BIJOU