THE PRINTS AND THE POPPER ~ ~ Epic*sode 10 ~ ~ "THE PISSING MATCH" ~ By Absolutely*Kate and Harry B. Sanderford of Harbinger*33

  The *INTRIGUE*

u n w i n d s

PRESENTING

OUR

  * MURDER *
 * MYSTERY * 

* MATINEE *

 

 "THE PRINTS

 AND THE POPPER" 

FROM WHERE WE LEFT OFF

 IN OUR LAST CLIFFHANGER

*AT THE BIJOU*

CATCHING UP ON CLIFFHANGERS?

CLICK EPIC*SODES BELOW:

    

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 10 ~ ~

" The Pissing Match "

~ By Absolutely*Kate 

and 
Harry B. Sanderford

TAKES TWO? ~ tempting pic ala frecklescorp

Penelope Payne was no average newshound dame. She knew the best bark to sustain the loudest sound-bite always came from following the money. Big buck$ must've brought or bought the hotshot InterNoir star at the bar, Paul Caracas, into seemingly sleepy Hazelton for a reason this season. But what?  By whom? And when? Why this wise guy? Why now? I wish Carrie were here ~ I need a nosy accomplice for newsing around.
 
Payne got lucky at The Lucky. Or was it those manifesting nuggets over chance and circumstance Kate tried to tell her about during the last BIJOU interview of what was up ... or what could be?

  
The door opened from night to noise with a swoooooosh and a hail from the rather bright-eye disheveled Clevenger gal acting almost as if there was a push behind that swoosh. She barreled right into the bar instead of bellying up to it and what Caracas was sipping soon puddled as slop on the floor.
 
"Yikes! Sorry sir! Here, let me help sop you up from the mess I made and buy you another. Ant? Hey, rather snazzy suit you're sporting sport ~ Where'd you say you're from?" whooshed from the swoosh of clever Clevenger replacing the Caracas ID dossier precisely into InterNoir's inner pocket. The Phantom AT THE BIJOU had taught her well. Took about seventeen practice runs, but she'd nailed it and was priming to celebrate the feat of this new fate of unpickpocketing. Hey there's Penny ~ I gotta go let her know how priceless this move was.
 
Caracas knew a pat down from a put down and while accepting barkeep Venutolo's top shelf gin with a grin vs alacrity - nice of the bloke to switch what he was pouring when this dizzy dame swooshed in -- put his mind to sipping the cause of the commotion's motion.
 
"Who is that gal, Anthony? Wasn't she the inebriated billiards babe who deliquidated the establishment earlier?"
 
Ant leaned in and let some good vibes roll as to what he cared to tell in tale of Carrie. He hadn't quite got his fix on Mr InterNoir here, but knew when a fishin' was fixin' to get a little sumthin' on the line.
 
Stine caught the chance of  the Caracas glance do a surreptious tilt over the ladies way. Oh yes, the tilt is afoote. I mean the game is afoote. That's the rub, Bub. Sheer luck at The Lucky. Watchin' this ringer's bells go off. The night's no longer young, but the good, ya know they die young and the bad guys got a long way to go. Sergeant Stine had it in his mind to just sit back, sip his signature Schweppes gingerale mocked up into a real drink - bless that Anthony when surveillance needed to go sly, he was an alright guy. Yeah he was gonna just watch the show. Penny and Carrie weren't giggling Dixie Chicks over there to the juke box but layin' down some tracks of what was shakin'. Payne's notebook was seeing a lot of forward slant action.
 
What was that breeze though?
In the shadows Lieutenant Phillips watched them all, the whole shebang of this laughable gang. After buoying the bevy of beauts up AT THE BIJOU, getting all his words in as straight as edgewise can adeptly answer with Kate, Sugar, Zelda and that real nice Mrs Poe rapid-firing questions as fast as they could snap, crackle, shoot, he needed a hot toddy before last call. Little Lucky wonder there'd be more show in this long day of murder, mystery and mayhem to still play out. What was Stine doing with such a Cheshire grin accompanying the jib jab jive with his eyes on the Brit, or was that an East Euro accent he'd detected? Better lay low. Good thing Anthony always let him come in the back room. Said it was better for upfront business that way.
 
There's that breeze again. He'd noticed it up AT THE BIJOU too. Good, Ant had sent the college kid back with his drink. Time to think. Reaching in his uniform pocket for the hunk of hanky his Mum had always reminded him to keep handy, he unwrapped the slobbery iPhone he'd extracted from the Poe pup when a Milk Bone trade had been pleasingly possible. He had lot of pockets, lot of tricks. Mum said to keep mum and things will present themselves.
 
Things always did.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

                                                                    

Harry  followed the ambulance in his T-Bird. His knee wasn’t really hurting so much anymore but he figured maybe the doc would hook him up with a couple of Vicodin or Percocet anyway and besides, he wanted to talk to The Prof  privately. He wanted to ask him what he meant by what he’d said to Sergeant Stine.  Maybe he’d heard wrong or maybe it was just random muttering from a man recently bonked on the head. If it wasn’t though, it would be the second time he’d heard, "Let not the perfect be the enemy of the good!" in as many days. The other recitation had not come from a nice man.  

Harry’s cell phone rang. He glanced at the incoming number and knew his day was only going to get worse. “Yes? Are you kidding? OK I’m on it,” was his side of the conversation. The conversation he’d planned with The Prof was going to have to wait for another day.  This day was already one of those days.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

                                                                     

Eddie didn’t waste any time pouring over the instructions for his Super Spy Private Eye Fingerprinting Kit, he knew just what to do. He donned the Latex gloves with a surgical snap and using only his thumb and forefinger, picked the cup up by the lip opposite its handle.  He spread the folded paper included in the kit on a spot he’d cleared on Chester’s desk to catch the excess dust and began brushing on the powder. Leon left him to his business and made a call to a friend in the department he hoped might run whatever the boy lifted from the cup without making it official. “What time’s your break? OK, cheeseburger no ketchup, curly fries and a rootbeer. You got it Partner.” Leon hung up and asked the boy detective how he’d done. The boy detective had done well but he winced a bit when he realized how freely Detective Leon tossed the term Partner around. 
 

Leon picked up the mylar sheet Eddie had taped the transfers to and held it up to catch the light. Eddie pulled nearly perfect thumb, forefinger, ring and pinky prints. Crisp whorls, arches and loops with less smudging than officers currently employed to do the job routinely submitted. Eddie's first batch of prints from his Super Spy Private Eye Fingerprinting Kit were officially classifiable. Leon was officially impressed. “Nice work Partner. I have a friend at the cop shop that will run these for us on the sly for a gut bomb. His break isn’t for two hours though, you old enough to drink?”
 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

                                                                  

“Careful with that pea-shooter Ma’am, I’m just following orders. I was supposed to keep you in the dark for a spell and that’s all. I never meant you no harm, I was just coming to see if you needed some juice, I swear.” 

Jeanette wasn’t buying it and Sappy’s sniveling only repulsed her. The iPhone had stopped ringing. She drew Virginia back keeping the gun aimed between his eyes. She held the cell out, “Call them back. Tell them you were in the bathroom. Tell them everything is OK and make it convincing.” 

The man began to blubber and Jeanette realized he feared making the call more than he feared being shot. Who the hell are these guys?,  she wondered. She had an idea of course. But, would he really go to these lengths?  She felt suddenly hot -- and worse -- wet! She jumped up standing over the pathetic whimpering excuse for a man, who had just quite literally pissed himself. 

Enough is enough, she thought

and squeezed the trigger.

* 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 "

THE PRINTS AND THE POPPER ~ By Absolutely*Kate and Harry B. Sanderford of Harbinger*33

THE PRINTS
AND

THE POPPER

BY
~ Absolutely*Kate

AND 
Harry B. Sanderford

with Matt Magda plot turns

By all appearances, Eddie led a quiet life. He attended Mathews High School where he was junior class treasurer. He dated Mary Lou Jennings and had a special spot to park his car at McDonald's when the gang went out for quarter-pounders, fries and chocolate shakes after basketball games. He liked how it angled them into the shadows where Mary Lou's hand lingered in his. He worked after school on Tuesdays, Thursdays and weekend matinees AT THE BIJOU. Like I said, by all appearances, Eddie led a quiet typical teenage life.

Eddie was excited about going to work on this particular Tuesday because just yesterday his Super Spy Private Eye Finger-Printing Kit had finally arrived in the mail. He’d ordered it from the back of his Super Spy Private Eye magazine and he aimed to put it right to use. Chief among his duties AT THE BIJOU were: popping the popcorn, making sure the butter flavoring and nacho cheese dispensers were topped off, and that the napkin dispensers were never empty. Folks' fingers get good and greasy grubbing on a BIJOU Double-Feature Bucket.

On this particular Tuesday, fate was twisting a churn into Eddie's good news day. He'd hurried through the poppin' and had it all fluffy light and flyin' high the way Ms Kate had explained Ms Carrie favoured it. And God and the local Phantom knows Ms Carrie was the biggest popcorn clutching customer AT THE BIJOU ever did see. He liked her. She always tipped him an extra buck, leaned in and shared him somethin' scary about how she knew what she knew and then whispered, "Listen Popper, don't tell our Ms Kate I told you that. She likes a world where bad guys don't kill everyone off." How he laughed at that. Ms Carrie sure knew Ms Kate alright. So with a grin on his face and his duties easily covered all over the place, Eddie slid comfortably into the seat in the back red velvet row he favoured when bringin' Mary Lou around. More smoochability, y'know. 

With an anticipatory sigh, Eddie slid this month's issue of  Super Spy Private Eye from his hip pocket, smoothing it flat. Ms Kate said he could do what he wanted 'round the BIJOU when what he had to take care of was taken care of,  just so long as he kept a watchful eye on things. She trusted him that way, and guldurn if he'd ever let her down. Now though, he wanted to go over the directions one more time on how to shake and spread powder from his Super Private Eye Finger-Printing Kit, tucked safe on the top shelf back in his locker in the staff room. The handy-dandy silver magnifying glass, in his other Wrangler pocket was waiting steady for Eddy to finally use it, and boy oh boy was he itchin' to do just that. Impress Mary Lou too with his deducing ways to figure a situation out.

While he was hunched over page 33, he could tell without much deducing powers at all that Ms Jeanette was waltzin' in to the theatre. Eddie tipped his touseled mop of hair along with the appreciative twinkle young man eyes shall ever hold for a real lady's graceful glide. Hers was always to the 9th row where she enjoyed all the action of reviewing every show, telling whomever would listen that life was like innings and you had to let the full game play out to really know the score. Eddie figured Ms Jeanette always knew the score. And like most others, he was fond of her caring ways.

"How are you keeping your grades up Eddie? Mary Lou treating you nice and sweet?" 

He gave her usual quick wink a smug smile and a thumbs-up, remembering that thing his Mom said when sprayin' on perfume before a big dinner date with Dad. Even bein' a mom, she still knew how to let her eyelashes do their business and would say real soft when Dad came up behind her, "My Windsong will stay on your mind." Wonder if that's what Ms Jeanette had squirted all over herself. He could always tell when she was shifting seats, turning in her greets to other regulars AT THE BIJOU. It was a real pretty smell that went swell with how she laughed. All the other BIJOU folk liked that too.

THE SCREAM CUT THROUGH ALL HIS CAREFUL CONCENTRATION ~ more high-pitched than any movie sound could move around the surround-sound system that Mr Harry had set up to make folks' listening pleasure all the more jumpier. Mr Harry was like that too ~ always tryin' somethin' new out. Boy oh boy, man oh man, Eddie sure wished Mr Har was jawin' jokes in the staff room today, 'cause he woulda liked another sturdy feller handy to investigate the blood curdle of that freakin' sound. Yikes! Ms Jeanette was down front. He'd better jump into action and check things out!

The scream came from behind him so Eddie told Ms Jeanette to sit tight and sprinted  up the aisle for the lobby.  Bursting through the double doors he found Sugar scooping Milk Duds back into the box from the counter where they’d spilled.  “Are you alright Ms Sugar?”,  Eddie asked hoping to appear calm, something he never found easy to do around Ms Sugar. 

“Other than scattering a brand new box of my favorite candy all over I’m fine. What the heck was that?  Just about scared the pants right off me!”  The image this conjured was not helping Eddie with his outward calm.

"Well if it wasn't you, and it wasn't Jeanette..." the boy detective thought out loud.

“Are you alright is maybe a better question? Why you look like you’ve seen a ghost,”  Sugar was teasing but it hit them both at the same time. 

“The phantom of THE BIJOU!”  They aha-ed in unison.

Eddie bolted for the projection booth stairs. Sugar vaulted the candy counter and followed close behind. Eddie covered the red carpet two stairs at a time but Sugar was no slouch; he could feel her pretty close on his Nikes. Their gasp was collective. The greasy grisly scene on the floor  before them floored them. A body sprawled face down. A tub of buttery BIJOU popcorn adding spill to sprawl, already on the congeal. Eddie's hand jutting towards the contorted body of what looked like or was the new projectionist was stopped in mid-jut to Sparky Denton's blue denim sleeve by Sugar's  high pitch squeal.

"Don't you DARE touch Sparky, Eddie! Who knows what's happened here?! Call 911, c'mon hurry!"

Eddie whipped out his Droid as sexy Sugar's more motherly side kicked into gear, body-blocking his view, swift-glancing for a discernible clue, steering the boy clear of what appeared to be death by popcorn. The low hum of the projector accompanied the still rolling film, a 1945 rare noir cut of Detour, which Jeanette had requested before the regular crowds rolled in for Tuesday's packed-house Double*Feature. Long'ago heart-throb actor Tom Neal playing nightclub pianist Al Roberts let loose his cynical worldview snipe: "That's life. Whichever way you turn, fate sticks out a foot to trip you."

"Yep, Al, someone sure took a face-smack here", Sugar mumble-quipped back while her mind sizzled in fast-forward mode -- determining the most logical way to proceed, keep Eddie calm and both of them safe.

Eddie's thoughts, now that the dispatcher had assured him help was speeding on its way, were turning over the most logical way to proceed, to keep Ms Sugar calm and both of them safe. He couldn't suppress the grin though when Sugar couldn't suppress her habit to mimic movie stars. In perfect Ann Savage pitch, with hand to hip, she became Vera the hitchhiker: "Life's like a ball game. You gotta take a swing at whatever comes along before you wake up and find it's the ninth inning."

"THE 9th INNING! THE 9th ROW! JEANETTE!!", their thinking and their hepped-up voices aha'd unison once again, before Eddie's magnifier had a chance of a glance to hone in on the suspicious spittle around the sparkless Sparky to confirm his guess that suspicious could be malicious . . . The deducing duo were off on a tear down the stairs once again. Sirens were heard and sounding closer, but their heads and hearts were headed in another direction away from the main doors, back to the theatre. 

Police, fire and paramedics poured through the front doors as Sugar and Eddie hit the bottom stair. Eddie pointed back up to the projection room shouting, “It’s Sparky, he’s up there!”, without breaking his stride. Sugar hit the double doors first and Eddie was through before they could swing shut behind her. In the ninth row Eddie picked up Ms Jeanette’s Mead Square-Deal journal from the seat with her favorite blue Montblanc Starwalker still clipped to the cover. A single drop of indigo fell from the pen and landing squarely on the armrest, mingled with the drops of crimson already there. Ms Jeanette was nowhere to be found.

* 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 "