THE PRINTS AND THE POPPER ~ ~ Epic*sode 17 ~ "CASSIDY & SUNDANCE" ~ By Absolutely*Kate and Harry B. Sanderford of Harbinger*33

Kitchens are cookin' up something!

* MURDER *

* MYSTERY *

* MATINEE *

  
"THE PRINTS

 AND 

THE POPPER"

FROM WHERE

  WE LEFT OFF

 IN OUR LAST CLIFFHANGER

*AT THE BIJOU*

  

CATCHING UP ON CLIFFHANGERS?

Mosey through Epic*sode Clicks:

    

Epic'sode Sweet 16 ~ The Great Escape

Epic'sode 15 ~ A Wise Ass

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 17 ~ ~

"CASSIDY & SUNDANCE "

~ By Absolutely*Kate

and 

Harry B. Sanderford

When Kate Cassidy and her Sundance Kit strutted their stuff into GABARDINE ENTERPRISES plush offices twenty years ago, knowing a flush financial backer was the best sure bet to have in your back pocket when you were sizzling a hot idea, she never realized to what extent hot hands forced into back pockets could reach. Her idea was gosh darn good. Her idea had mighty merit. Her idea had vision when the rest of the ideas in this world wore bifocals. It was that good. It should've been seen. It should've been a contender. It would've prototyped her BIJOU to showcase fresh talent in film franchises all around the world. It was the tip, it was the top ~ the red curtain vaudeville revival road show, a Gershwin tune, a Cecil B. DeMille extravaganza and the roll out of the Sundance Film Festival all into one big  shebang. 

Yessiree, her excitement was snap, crackling, popping while she crisply rolled up all the plans and sketches and charts with the circles and the paragraphs on the back of each one explainin' what each one was when some flunky from Gabardine's office phoned.  "Ms Cassidy? Mr Gabardine prefers this meeting takes place out of town. He'd prefer the town of Alice as pressing business has just come up. He asked me to extend the courtesy of you selecting the restaurant. So, Alice's finest restaurant at, say -- 1:30? You can get anything you want there while you're waiting."

But Kate didn't wait. Oh no buddy boy. Kate had ideas and knew how to use them. She scurried. She drove cross town in the hurried flurry of the fury of a woman's appointment scorned and barged into his office past two languid secretaries sputtering protestations while trying to out nail file the other. She saw just what his pressing business was. What had come up and taken the sizzle out of just the right amount of dynamite used in Cassidy's Sundance Film Festival Shining Road-Show Talent plan was the ever stunning but currently stammering Jeanette Bessette, cast about the casting couch. 

From the looks of what was up, Gabardine appeared besot with Bessette but it didn't look quite like an up and up handshake deal. This scene had compromise riding all over it. Before Kate could even get out a startled "Whoops" or "Hey, sorry about that folks," spry Jeanette gather-grabbed what fragments were grabbable of a little black dress, pressed it to her burgeoning bosom and beat a path beyond the paneled office and its majestic mahogany door. 

Gabardine bellowed. Kate didn't cower but the Cassidy Sundance Kit never got the presentation it was due. Which was really too bad. It could've been seen clear to the gardenlands of Bolivia for all we know. Boss Gabardine, even back then had his hands in so many pockets that chump change was his modus operandi. Without squeezing any coinage  he put the squeeze on. He squelched the viability of her ventures with vexed vengeance. Lasting leverage leaned on every backer she made her next series of serious contender appointments with. Alas, nolo-contendre. It wasn't just a power-man holding a powerful grudge against a barger-inner on his afternoon's dalliance of delight. Kate Cassidy had seen something she sure shouldn't have. She'd seen Gabardine with his pants down. She'd seen Gabardine with his pants down kick under the beige velour casting couch a sheaf of papers he'd pried out of Jeanette's hand when the door had opened with nary a knock. She'd seen that Gabardine had seen what she'd seen of the compromising scene. 

And she heard him say when she too tried to disappear out of sight, "Kate Cassidy, I'll get you for this. When you least expect it . . . EXPECT IT!"  Regarding his sneer in a half-turn to snap back that cliches did not become him, Kate regarded better the valour of silence as Gabardine's silencer, a tall thick Brutus look-a-like from any Popeye cartoon not co-starring Bluto shoved her roughly up against the knotty pine paneled wall. 

"Forget everything you saw here today Girly, and nobody close to you ever gets an accident to fall their way, hear?"

Though really tempted to tell this goon he'd watched way too many Cagney flicks for his own good, Kate didn't panic against the panels. When cornered, she kicked out to make her point to the inside of his Achilles tendon as a girl with superior high heels knows how to do. And taunted, "How do those teals feel, Bucko?" When the shark took the bait and lunged, she popped the rolled up portfolio case of her plans and dreams right into the family jewels. The force of doubled-over flailing against the paneled wall careened the gilt edged Gabardine plaque for MERITORIOUS CITY SERVICE hard, very hard into the corner of tough guy's eye.

Holy Mackerel! Seeing blood as well as an open opportunity, she ran. Almost too many cliches for one day away from a clean getaway, Kate Cassidy and her Sundance Kit pivoted at the edginess of the daunting doorway ~  "How'd you like them apples Big Boys?"
 

It wasn't the smartest comeback to shoot out to a flashy financier naked on his knees shoving a sheaf of parchment papers into a leather valise. Gabardine glowered. Gabardine grumbled profanities in profusion. Kate was gone with that ill wind.
 

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

 

And now Kate's kitchen was filled with more than fleeting and jolted memories of Jeanette Bessette Cheezum and her BIJOU general manager buddy, hunky handsome Harry, with a wild glint to his eye, turning a box of Lucky Charms into upside down heap and crunch just to get to the prize. Har was a gamblin' man, Kate knew. He always went for the prize. He liked life to be magically delicious and took a lot of precise actions to get himself there.  So why'd he show up on her doorstep with a disheveled Jeanette and tales of danger? A Jeanette who had wolfed down two waffles, a banana nut muffin and was looking for more? The headlines in the paper she'd wanted to peacefully kick back and read in the HAZLETON HOLLER were neglected now, face down on the floor. 

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

Lieutenant Phillips fingered commands on the iPhone he’d bargained from Jinx. Jinx kept a wary eye on Phillips, not so sure he’d made a good trade. Laurita called them to breakfast and they both got out of bed.

Sergeant Stine arriving rumpled and late at the station grabbed the last donut from the box and called his superior’s cell phone from his desk. “Captain, we better get a tail on Chester Hanks and also Harry Shannahan. I don’t know about Hook’em’s involvement in any of this but he’s indicated for questioning by his position at the BIJOU. Harry slipping out before we had a chance to question him at the scene also makes him a suspect.”

Phillips wiped syrup from his chin and patted Laurita’s rump. “You go on then Sergeant, see what you can find out about either of them.” 

“We ought to have someone at the hospital to find out what the Professor knows too.”

 

“He’s awake? God man, we should have already had uniforms there. See to it!” 

 

Phillips kissed Poe goodbye and drew his hand back quickly reaching to pat Jinx.

 ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

"You guys got some 'splainin' to do!" Kate exhaled while filling three cobalt mugs of blue with house brand Starbucks fresh brew. This was grounds for explanations. "Yuck!" Her barefoot paces gooshed into pink hearts, yellow moons, orange stars and green clovers. "The spiels you two spilled are far from over. How does Boss Gabardine figure into goings on AT THE BIJOU? How do you have a connection to him Har? And little Jeanette? Wasn't he the big man whose passes you ran away from?"

Sipping coffee sedately at a Sunday kitchen table amongst friends, putting scraped pieces of her regal countenance back together again, Jeanette let loose a diabolical howl. It filled the room. It shook the cupboards. Kate's cobalt pottery mug tumbled to its inimitable fall. The mellow was mushed. Jeanette's howl mounted and morphed to a chilling gaggle of giggles. 

"Me thinks the lady of the ordeals doth protest too much," sage Harry purported, looking up from his assorted pileups of sorted cereal success and winked theatrically slow. He lifted high the tiny shiny red firetruck he'd found at the bottom of his search and seizure. "Score!"

  

Ignoring the slush of the slosh of marshmallow and caffeine between the toes, Kate ambled over, ruffled Har's hair, smiled as she leaned in for a conspiratorial whisper, as they'd done when riding Schwinns and building forts with their gang in their wild youth. "Hey pal - you thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"

 

"When in doubt Katie Girl, ah saay, ah saaay -- Always quote Shakespeare."  

 

Kate's hearty laugh filled the blue and white Sunday kitchen as sunlight spill splashed welcome dapple into new glisten on a soggy floor. But all did not seem cheery. When Jeanette's giggle amped its decible to cackle, Kate pondered Harry's theory, reexamining the first memory of the first time she'd laid eyes on what she took to be a flustered lass in trouble. But trouble is as trouble does and all is not always as it seems. Perhaps Har was on to something. He usually was. After all - You can't out-Shannahan a Shannahan.
 

 ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

Eddie hung up with Mary Lou and iPhoned Detective Davenport. 

“Any word from your friend at the lab?”

* 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 "

(c) 2010 ~ Dashing Duet Authors

Absolutely*Kate and Harry B. Sanderford

  ( Kate thinks the "B" is for 'brilliant' some times )

   

Visualizations ala Eric Williamson, SnarkyDork, CrazyBobbles, JasonEscapist and Barb Henry.