INT:  CHURCH-STAGE
                             PREACHER

    “Know that your God is you.  You are loved by your spirit.  Seek not the favor of man, but share in the truth and the spirit.  The voice of your God comes through you, from you, not interpretations and translations of others who have put themselves on-high by interpreting the events of the past to fit today’s society. Know this; beauty of the body stays in the earth while beauty of the soul travels forever.  Know all things live and that we are the visitors and we are forever alive in our universe experiencing life.  We are the children of no one.  We are not the followers of pedophiles and deviates hiding behind gold and a fear of mankind.  Where there is no life, we are gone.  We bring life with us; therefore, we are the carriers of life.   Life may be there before us, but not as us. We are much desired in the universe, for all life must go with us.  We have no choice which to leave behind.  We are chosen by our evolution, by life before us, to protect and perpetuate all life.  There are no other you!  You are the carrier of a unique voice and consciousness throughout eternity.  You forever carry with you the spirit of mankind.  You are mankind!  Do not live by script, live by that which is good in you.  Be true to yourself and those who pass your gaze; for they will look intently, if not briefly for trickery and dishonesty.   To know not your brethren as individuals is to place yourself between them while lined up for the dole.  I say to you, fear not the controllers of the ignorant who are sponsored and perpetuated by the wealthy and never turn your cheek from he who causes pain.  To turn your cheek is to deny your true place in the universe.  Know this, you are not born submissive, let the striker know it before he plays the fool! You are not born with the fear of retribution; it must be taught to you.  Know that fear is all the moneychangers have. It is because of this they have built barns to teach you retribution is wrong; if you seek retribution you will burn in hell, you must turn the other cheek their employees cry from the pulpit! If they do unto you acts of deviance, they do not want to be punished by you, so they threaten you with hell.  They threaten you with jail.  Jesus threatened no man with hell, yet they jailed him, beat him mercilessly, and finally stabbed him to death with a spear!  Those who think alike are still here.  Furthermore, do not waste your uniqueness and your individual sprit; do not become the mime of the masses.  Even a man called Jesus would not have it!  Man does not need armies to serve and protect the moneychangers.  Man needs armies to serve and protect the weak. Know this in your heart! Earth needs leaders speaking hope, faith, and future.  Smile in your heart, for you are already loved; hence you would not be here.  You have purpose in our universe, you are a precious commodity my friend!  There will never be another you in my world!  

INT: CHURCH-STAGE

                              Jimmy

    He turned his head and looked into the darkness which lay before him.  Darkness filled with the moans of drunks, sinners, the poor and destitute. The stench in the musty room was reminiscent of bogs and mires, earthen, yet mixed with rotten, half eaten food. As he stood, he looked back toward me for a moment, then turned and looked towards the filthy as if in a moment of deep thought.  

INT: CHURCH-STANDING
                            PREACHER

    Do not spend your precious moments seeking the ear of gold seekers.  A nod from across the room is the sycophant seeking more.  You are needed by those who share you.  Know this and participate in humanity.  We are all saviors.  Know your brothers keeper, for he is you.  He is the one who lives at the depths of the pond.  You can only see him if you kneel by the edge in the cool mud looking in.  The keeper waits, for he is the keeper of life, he is you.  You are the one coming again.  Do you know the face of the fear they teach? For if you do you are blessed; you can see fear coming, it cannot look you in the eye, lest you look away for an instant!  You will see it cross the room, its head bobbing so not to meet anyone’s gaze directly but to look at an individual from askew, as if hidden.  If you know it, then be at peace, for then you know fear will always share a room with you. Do not despise that which you know.  You will hear it speaking through your voice.  Your heart is your warning; use it well, for it protects you.  Fear is your shield from that which fosters harm.  Never look away.  Let it know you see it, feel it; then manipulate it as it attempts to manipulate you.   Breath deep the stench of ignorance, know it also; wallow in it until you feel comfortable speaking its tongue. Then do what ignorance wants, be the teacher and tell it all that you know. Know this; apathy is a moss growing in shadows; for in the warm, moist, darkness it is evil.  You are the gardener of man, prune back the shade and let the sun in, the stench will vanish for apathy cannot grow in the light of truth; evil cannot survive the cruelty of  truth. Evil cannot survive a world without shadows; a world without places to hide. The robes fear clarity and truth for it is foreign to their tongue; it cannot be intertwined with threats and lies.  How can an untruth be told to the singers unless you know the truth?  Know this; if you live in the shadows of torches on hills, an ignorant work force is needed.  Torches summon the ignorant.  They will summon the new armies of challenge and change. To offer the food of kindness and truth is blessed; to create false boarders with torches on hills and force feed the ignorant is sinful.  Therefore I say to you, do not join armies of the past.  Know a new world, know yourself.  That which can protect you is courage and love of mankind, for the masses will follow both, and masses are armies and armies are protection from false ‘on high’.  Know the armies of barn crows and barn singers butchered and murdered your brethren for not believing as they were taught, for not paying the toll.  If there is slaughtering of mankind to be done; let not the stench reach your door.  Seek out that which hunts you under the guise of righteousness, and loosed the vilest spirit on him! Let him see that which he dreams of, let him feel that which he seeks; let the stench of death be his last lilac.  It is not for us to forgive that which inflicts death upon us.  It is not our place to run from screams.  The howling of man calls to the spirit of reason, and if reason away, then the army of the lilac will know insanity comes. It is enough to know, insanity knows not the tear. Only coins are needed in baskets of barn singers, not sorrow; for   sorrow buys nothing and therefore has no worth in the kingdom of the righteous. Sorrow adds no gold to the altar. An ignorant army is encamped where torches burn on the hills.  For I say to you, the only symbol of love cannot be one man carrying the burden and sins of the human race; his example is the right, not the acts of idiocy that drove him to the example. Wealth and houses built of slaves are not impervious to lunacy.  All men must carry the burden of the human race.  All men and woman must symbolize love and compassion, not an effigy in a shrine or porcelain figurines made by money changers.  Lest you forget, an ignorant force is needed to provide labor for the barn singers, the barn crows.  For the wealthy property owners to eat grapes, fear must be constant.  The workers must always see the fear from the fields! They must be reminded by symbols of fear on high. Large barns will be built as symbols of grandeur and righteousness with monies needed for food and shelter, not. You know in your heart this is so, for you know righteousness and compassion was in man before barns, shrines.  Before golden temples asked you to pay for it and bow down to the sweaty pedophile under the robe.  Righteousness and compassion were in the hearts of peoples before a few of our brethren horrendously chained and beat a human being, paraded him through the streets, and then drove spikes through his living flesh! The wealthy did this savage thing because they were afraid of loosing control of mankind.  Afraid of loosing control of those they whipped and raped. Workers will be made to feel they share a common good, they are one with the moneychangers; when in fact a small price to pay for labor to let them sing for you!  The barn singers will infiltrate and control the schools and minds of the young workers and tax others to pay for it.  Schools will be controlled by the voters, not the needs or the thirst for knowledge.  Knowledge will be controlled by the money. The money will scrutinize the books and that which your child hears. Ask yourself, if knowledge being taught to your children truly fosters competition and capitalism, who would want it, surely not the mansion on the hill? Knowledge is controlled and doled out by the barn singers, the barn crows.  A crows shadow is brief, unless it is allowed to lite.   Then their crowing is incessant.  Fear them not, but know they feed on carrion, that which is dead, dying, or helpless.  This is the way of barn singers, the way of the barn crows.  Remember, without the helpless, crows have nothing to watch; they have nothing to feed their appetite. Without suffering they are gone. Cast out the barn builders and aristocratic crows and use the wood to provide shelter for the homeless and work for the poor.  Teach the workers knowledge, and let them know pride, for clergy teach pride a sin. It is the people who control the world and their own destiny; not words of perversion. Cast out those who fear the sun and speak to you from ‘on high’.  Listen not to the idiot wielding a staff or wearing a crown while hiding in the vestibules of his pathetic mind and doing that which he is told by a myriad of cloaked readers and whisperers.  If it is solace you require, talk amongst yourselves and receive kindness and tenderness. Talk to your wife, your friends, and especially your enemies; for if they lie to you, at least you will know the words are theirs. Look not to worship the invisible while begging salvation from a book.  Tell not the crows of your most intimate actions, for with this power they will control you and those you speak, for they possess not an elixir to forgive any man. The millions who repent and confess their activities to sycophants are telling them who to punish, and is telling them who believes not their doctrine of fear. It tells them if their teachings of fear is working.  Build your own house.  Plant you own crops.  Sing your own song.  Pay no man to be part of his masses.  Pay not those who build shrines of gold; pay those who build homes.  Man is a temple unto himself.  Love all you survey and become your own king.  Upon birth, we are all loved.  Upon death we are all missed. Know you are unique.  Know you created the words love, forgiveness, compassion, truth, fairness, honesty, kindness, and all other words of our tongue. Compassion was not here before humanity.  To you I say fear not our life but naïveté can kill; therefore, I say to you again, remember man created every word in our tongue, even that which sucks the life from that which we love!  Do not listen to those who make you kneel and pray whilst listening to hours of your failings for those who know not life outside fear of you.  You will pay to man that which you take from man.  Is your  naiveté' so honed by barn singers that you believe riches await you for not fighting back, for turning the other cheek when cruelty is inflicted upon your neighbor? Do you honestly believe the screams of our child bearers, our precious women as their flesh caught fire and turned black to cinder before their heart stopped its beat when burned alive at the stake by religious pigs allowed by man!  Do you believe golden streets await you for watching the flames and the writhing female tied to the pole while  smelling burning meat in the name of the church, worthy of man!  Go and protect life.  Go and protect all of us from hirelings of trinkets and robes.  Let them kiss the feet of the dead.  Protect the weak from those who use the lash on man, the killers of life in man!

INT: CHURCH

    The act had ended with a tormented, dark, figure writhing on stage  while raising his mug of swill to his lips, and all to no avail. As life itself, the container had failed its owner.  The only thing pouring  from the mug to greet my host was his rancid breath. Before the preacher could catch his composure, Steve had risen from his seat and stumbled his way to  the door.  The audience had left the theater.

EXT:  CHURCH DOORWAY

    Dark, cold, pouring rain and gutters threatening to overflow.  The streets glistened under the shorting street light.  This section of town doesn't get much attention from the city crews.  The rain is pounding, can't see across the street.  

EXT:  STREET

    A black and white police cruiser snakes its way along the swollen gutters while shining its spotlight up alleys and into doorways to roust the discouraged and beaten.  Move on to where they say?  The cruiser never stops, just slows long enough to give the rats time to relocate.  It's like sweeping with a straw broom, you move dust around but nothing really gets clean. The dust just moved out of the spotlight for a moment, that's all.

EXT: CHURCH DOORWAY

    Jimmy

     Looking in through the small, face high window on the door, and back into the theater; to his amazement, the stage was empty. Time to move on, the booze is wearing off, and there's no speaker tonight.

EXT:  CHURCH DOORWAY , NIGHT–  HEAVY RAIN FLOWING OFF STREET LIGHT SHADES – NIGHT-STREET LIGHTS DIM.  

Jimmy
(still in doorway)

    Trying to keep cigarette lit while briefly looking into the street to keep an open eye on his situation, Jimmy  stopped moving and breathing for just a second.  Not fifty feet away, the cruiser stopped.  The pouring rain was aglow red when the brake lights went on.  Two dark, ominous shadows opened the cars doors and got out.  One on the drivers side, the larger one on the passengers side.  Both wearing draped, rubber, raincoats; they looked wicked in the distortion of the deluge.  It was not hard to see one of them had a baton out and was slapping it into the palm of his hand while looking Jimmy's direction.  The other doughnut  was standing and waiting for something to happen; anything to happen, because under that tent, he was holding an old friend; not what you think, when on shift, it's his sixteen year old 38 cal. special.  

EXT:  CHURCH DOORWAY, NIGHT.

JIMMY

    Jimmy backs into the doorway; so much he can feel the door hinge digging into his back.  He could still see the menace as he looked through the two sets of windows.  They just stood motionless.  All of a sudden, a figure reminiscent of the aberration he saw in his room, lingering at the foot of his bed, moved passed him with a sudden swoosh!  Towards the two officers it went, arms flailing; seconds later,  the doughnut boys  lay motionless on the wet sidewalk.  I dare not admit this moment.  I look the other way and quickly back.  Puffs of warm smoke exit the exhaust pipe of the cruiser as two bodies lay to either side; the aberration was gone.  "What the hell just happened?"  A quick look up and down the street; no one was moving, no one would admit it. 

    Muttering to him self and thinking of the special moment he now found himself in:

  It always ends like this.  First a few drinks to get loose and sociable following some extraordinary occurrence.  Then some kind of misunderstanding; people just can’t leave you alone while you sip scotch and try to decipher that extraordinary occurrence.  And finally, a new and exciting, drunken extraordinary occurrence to recall when you wake and sober up the next day.  Was that venomous sermon meant for me or had sanity vanished from the stage in bits and pieces while I watched?  Was I the ‘one who was in the wrong place at the wrong time’?  Or is this just one of those quaint sideshows that occurs in the bottoms?  One of those expected oddities that occur when roaches creep the bottoms. The dark, wet, musty scents of discouragement intermingled with alcohol and drugs make the south end what it is.  Sometimes, the punks from ‘up town’ looking for a cheap thrill roam the streets in the light of day; you know the toughies.   At night, it’s a whole different story.  If they come, they never get out of the car.  They cruise by dark doorways in the rain and tempt fate.  They ride with their girl friends in daddy’s car, back seat packed with their buddies hoping to ruffle the sheets just enough to tickle terror and evoke fear but not enough to force courage to run down their legs.  Trying to create a memory and satisfy their craving for excitement by poking and prodding the huddled, cold, vagrant laying in an open doorway.  If the vagrant, two hundred and fifty pound early release rapist wakes, beats the punks’ senseless and rapes their girlfriends, he goes back to jail, where it’s warm.  Kind of like poking a bear in a cage with a stick, the punks never try getting out of the car to show their courage without the bars holding the bear.  Bars of alcoholism, drug addiction, poverty, starvation, heart breaking loneliness; if they only knew why there are ‘south ends’ in every town.   If they’re lucky in their travels through sadness, it will be an old guy who lost his family in a fire and can’t live or defend himself.  Or the poor bastard I listened to yesterday in a bar just down the street, which lost his daughter in the war.  His wife left him because he can’t forgive himself while overpowering sorrow fights hatred for his soul.  In his mind, and with every drink, he reasons not to relive his pain is somehow forbidden when it’s your only child.   His bar stool held up insurmountable sorrow and guilt that night.  After catching a glimpse of a beer soaked photo of a little girl on the bar, I had to go.  Whoever he and his wife called to for compassion, hadn’t listened in years.   They never even asked where he went, down at the factory.   The factory wasn’t there when the official looking telegram came. Neighbors’ smiles and waves were abruptly distant and short.  The money ran out, and tall weeds grew where once a manicured lawn was laid.  Newspapers stood like camp fire wood leaning against the front door.  A single light was left on at night.  His slumped shadow, visible through lace curtains became a source of conversation and curiosity between neighbors passing in the night.  They would slow, and then drive past.  Never wanting to intrude, the door bell never rang.  And what the hell am I going through?  Fucking creatures in the night, fucking dead doughnut boys!

EXT:  ALLEY.

JIMMY

        Sliding along a brick wall glistening in the din of golden light coming from a familiar, ten dollar room.  Shadows moved past the opening and loud cussing could be heard.  The faint voice of a women pleading with drunk company trickled out the opening and down the bricks to where Jimmy sat.  I can feel it coming again (he told himself), he watched as a  large shadow moved up the wall and grabbed the slippery lower step of the fire escape ladder hanging just low enough so the punks can break into every room in the building.  The large figure pushes in the broken door at the top of the platform and enters an all too familiar,  dark hallway.  He listens intently to find the room with the view.  All of a sudden, the bullshit stops!  The figure of a man comes flying out the open window and lands on the pavement!  No more pleading tonight, problem solved!  Jimmy was grinning as he crouched next to the building.  The rain was drowning out the tough guys cries for mercy.  He finally stopped moving, and two cats ran over to lick the dead.

EXT:   ALLEY. 

JIMMY
(staring in disbelief at the body laying on the pavement in front of him)

    Walks over to get a better view and sees the wallet laying next to the lifeless, disfigured pile of shit.  "Thanks buddy", I needed another drink.  He opens it to find a fin and two ones.  A shit eaten grin comes over the unshaven face of reality as he gives the corpse one more kick.  As the Pug starts to walk off, a feeling of company makes his breathing silently slow.  He turns slowly and looks down the alley; nothing.  The feeling is persistent; he is not alone.  Just then, a tiny piece of brick falls from above, causing Jimmy to dart to an outside wall and quickly look up!  A badly bruised,  young woman was watching him from the open window.  He couldn't make out her face, but her thin silhouette in the dim night light, is the stuff dreams are made of.  He put the money back in the wet, leather wallet and threw it up to her.  She caught it and whispered, "thank you".  With that, she watched as the big guy slowly walked towards the street light and disappeared around the corner.  The rain had started again and a cool mist was blowing into the ten dollar room with the open window.  Bare, restless thighs waited for the big guy to return to the room with a view.  It was going to be a long night.

EXT:  STREET, RAIN POUNDING THE STREETS.

JIMMY

    There has to be a bar open somewhere.  He looked back, just in time to see vagrants going through the pockets of the doughnut boys.  You could hear a faint siren off in the distance, but getting closer to the quiet cruiser with cold seats.  The two dead cops will be naked before coffee and donuts arrive!

INT:  HOTEL STAIRCASE.

JIMMY

    The front door stuck open because rain had swollen the door frame; the broken squares of wet linoleum shined like  pieces of  white glass under the hundred watt hall light, swinging as if someone had just touched it.  The stairs rose to the right of the hall, and disappeared into darkness at the first half landing.  Red flashing lights from down the street gave the door opening behind me a rich, yet sad patina.  The doughnut boys had arrived with the coffee.  While looking at the bodies and sipping hot coffee, the two fraternity brothers in blue could hear another cruiser snaking its way towards them from somewhere in the night.  No one wants to get there too quick, nor too late to be the last.  I watched from within the half open doorway as one of the officers squatted to check for signs of trauma.  The other just looked down at the two nudes in amazement.  Like in a jungle, the rain washed away any signs of life, and any signs of death.  Nobody will be looking to deeply into this mystery.  The neighborhood knew the two cops were bad.  The cops knew the two officers who died in the line of duty were shit!  They beat whoever they could and molested who ever they could in the name of community involvement.  With them gone, the bottoms will be just a little safer for everybody.  The shame is, it will take their replacements at least three years to learn who the real bad guys are, down in the bottoms.  Who knows, maybe some real cops will show up and actually protect the ones who need it.  There is no innocent down here, but there's innocence.  And maybe, just maybe, more good than bad.  There's degrees of starvation, there's degrees of hell, and then there's the worst kind, the bottoms with bad cops.  That maniac in the long coat took care of that.  Who ever the sumbitch is, he's been here as long as I have.  We both seem to love the quietness a heavy rain brings.  The dark nights when only the sssshhhhhing  rain can be heard.  When there is no color, everything is hues of grays and blacks, muted browns, and pale street lights with their glows narrowed to spots in the deluge.  When invisible it's easy to get daring, easy when your breath slows in a dark doorway and the smell of the fourth scotch rises from your lips.  That's the trap, it's always easy to get frisky when lighting that fresh cigarette from a new pack.

INT:  HALF WAY UP THE HOTEL STAIRCASE, THE FIRST, DARK, LANDING.

JIMMY

    Yea but what about most of the time when your picking butts out of ashtrays?  What about the times your fingers are shaking so bad you can't strike the match?  What about the times your just to the first, dark, landing on the stairs in a dump hotel and you sense someone is sitting on the stairs in front of you but you can't see them?  You are so close you can hear their breathing but they don't move.  You know, like right now when the hair on the back of your neck is standing straight out!  You feel like your being sucked into a dark hole!  Just kidding, as you stumble over a drunk, sleeping on the stairs, trying to get out of the rain.  The moaning wakes you to your senses as you creep past the dreamer, who for a few moments is back home chasing chickens on the family farm.  Lucky bastard, shhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

INT:  HOTEL, TOP OF THE STAIRS, FACING HIS ROOM, AND PAUSING.

JIMMY

    I sure hope that evil fuck has left for the night.  The key works.....

INT:  HOTEL, 2ND FLOOR, THE PUG'S ROOM.

    The room was very dark, and except for the red neon light warming the window ledge one would have thought it an abandoned cubicle in a far away ghetto, and they would be right.  After my eyes adjusted to the depth of nothingness, I could just make out an old friend waiting in the middle of the room.  Waiting in the darkness was my confidant, my warmth, and the one thing that kept me from the hard wooden floor; my couch.  Not much to look at and a back breaker if you wanted to watch the whole game; nevertheless, all things good and unfailing comrade when scotch is the critic.  The window was open and the curtains were pulled to one side, rain drops stepped into the room from the window ledge.  Their second step left the dull wooden floor immediately below the window, shiny and glistening.  There will be banging from those same droplets hitting the TV in the cell below.  The old woman can’t see shit, but her hearing is excellent!  It was time for my other constant companion to enter my room, a slight breeze, laden with the sweet, humid stench of overflowing gutters below falls in the open window and threatened to stay every night.  I’ve no idea when it leaves, but it’s gone when I wake.  A melody starts about one in the morning, when pigeons coo from their haven inside the broken copper façade located just above my suite.  I sat in the dark, while the smoke from a cigarette threatened to kill me, just thinking of the events tonight.   The vintage yellow and chrome chair was comfortable enough while watching the corner room just above the alleyway.   There’s an interesting window, with warm, golden light and a young girl leaning out between the faded curtains above the coroner’s car.  She’s watching the show below, as police awkwardly carry the two heavy doughnut boys through swollen gutters and their last ride.  The mist and drizzle blurred my view, but she somehow looked familiar.  I heard she had a drunken boyfriend who cussed a lot and beat her.  Who would beat a young girl, I wondered.  Someday he’ll get his, they always do.  It’s funny, but the cops never look too hard for the last person to see the ‘tough guys’ alive.  In all, three cars were there; first was the second police cruiser, second was the coroner’s wagon, and third, was the one waiting for them like a homely date, alone on a corner. There were six men standing in the rain and not one of them was looking around for the creature that killed their mates.  For that matter, none of them were even looking around.  It’s as if finding these bodies was a natural occurrence.  I suppose there is a certain degree of apathy garnered over the years, but somehow the three of them standing there drinking coffee and talking about the big game added sleaze to the stage.  Like finding out you stepped on a snail.  Real ugly, slimy, and you’re never going to touch it. This will have to ware off.  One of them walked to the cruisers and turned off the red and blue dancing lights, leaving the running lights on.  I was getting tired of the show and should have lain down, but as fate would have it, I lit another cigarette!  One of the cops quickly looked up, and through the clearing mist, he saw the ever so brief flame emanating from my lighter, picture framed in a totally black window opening!  He yelled something to his partner and they both came running to that very special, swollen door, left ajar at the bottom of the stairs.  I watched for a second, until I could hear the pounding as they forced the door at the bottom of the stairs open.  Their heavy boots pounding the frail stair treads as they bounded up the stairway.  They hit the first landing with a bang!  I could hear yelling and cussing as they climbed the last ten feet to the upper landing.  They paused for a moment, and in a panic found their guns under their heavy, cumbersome slickers.  Each carrying their courage in their right hands, they slowly crept to my paper door.  Unbeknown to them, I watched from afar.  My sanctuary was the darkness at the opposite end of the hallway as they pushed the door in with a two hundred pound shoulder.  In the yelling and confusion, shots rang out, followed by a mad dash back onto the landing. As luck would have it, the doughnuts caught up with them, and they gasped for breath while realizing they were in “no mans land”, with no plan.  Kind of like two, gung ho soldiers who, through no fault of their own, find themselves surrounded, and standing in enemy territory with the rest of their company two hundred yards behind, digging in!  Not only was their adrenalin flowing, but they hadn’t run that far in ten years and now they’re standing in the middle of a mine field.  Mr. Macho had already left, and by way of their underwear, was waiting for them back with their buddies on the streets below.  This was a real bad neighborhood, a real dark building, doors were starting to slowly open, and it was time to leave.  The adrenalin that got them there was now hiding in their weak bladders.  After staring into the whites of each others eyes they turned and slowly crept towards the stairs.  Both still had their revolvers drawn, one looking up the stairwell while the other looked down as they hugged the wall while descending the dark, almost black exit. The creaking steps gave away their  retreat as the staircase led them towards the safety of the streets.  They intermittently looked at each other’s fear and without muttering one word, agreed they did their part for the neighborhood. 

EXT:  STREETS IN FRONT OF HOTEL

BULB BOYS

    The 'Bulb Boys' had shown up.  "The Gazette" was usually the first on the job.  As the two doughnut boys flew down the brick staircase that led to the hotel door, the flashing bulbs were waiting for their landing on the sidewalk.  In their blindness they almost lost their footing while trying to look important.  "What was all that shooting about?" (yelled one of the reporters).  The two cops pushing their way through the lenses, scowled as one blurted out "he got away!"

INT:  ROOM/COUCH

JIMMY
(talking to himself)

    The bastards shot my couch twice, (evidenced by ancient cotton protruding from the cushions and the smell of gun powder on my favorite pillow.)  "He got away, they'll tell the duty officer back at the station..he got away!  The duty officer will turn to them in his calm, tired, manner, and ask "who got away?" and "why the hell were the two of you shooting anyway?"  "Fill out the paper work and I'll see you in a month!  "Let's all pray some tramp doesn't come forward to sue us for our badges!"

INT:  ROOM

JIMMY

    After a couple of shots of vinegar, I lay back on my deceased couch and  with anticipation wait for the special dreams only the combined aroma of raw sewage from the streets, the lingering smell of gunpowder, and half a bottle of scotch promise to bring.  It's amazing how the glow of fading, red, neon and a broken, glass topped,  end table, can make even the cheapest, half drank bottle of scotch look magical at night.....I think the maiden in the south tower on the corner of the alley is safe tonight.  Safe from bad cops who come late in the night and pay her boyfriend for her forced company, safe from the piece of shit that flew out her window tonight.

INT:  ROOM

JIMMY
(fading in the dark silence, starting to dream while glancing at the leather bound note book on the small table...trying to remember thoughts of yesterday...)

    Where else will the help come from...?

INT:  JIMMY'S ROOM

  Jimmy, mumbling out loud while the blinking, red, hotel neon helps provide the euphoric trance he's chased all night.  The media is the new church.  they'll spin facts to scare the hell out of everybody.  Religion is on the wane, fewer and fewer are going to church, and the wealthy need something else to scare the poor.  What do they do?  They buy the media, newspapers, television, radio, etc.  They get laws passed to allow them to purchase all three information providers in the same geographical areas and saturate those areas with their bullshit.  Thousands of adds selling medicine for bullshit ailments.  Thousands of adds telling the ignorant masses their sick.  Everything from small dicks to growth pills to make her happy.  You name it, you got it!  The news will make you scared to go out your doors.  The new enemy today is, blah, blah, blah.  If people turned their televisions and radios off for a week they would be surprised how happy their lives would be.  The church is saturated with pedophiles abusing children and the world is sick of it; they've been caught!  Behind those golden icons are fat, slimy, pigs abusing peoples children in horrendous ways.  What does the church do when they get caught; throw money at them, the  same money it collected while they were on their knees in the pews.  The church is loosing control and is now viewed as the manipulators for the wealthy they have always been.  Their motto "control the ignorant masses!"  If they don't they'll be dragged into the streets and abused the same way the kids were; along with their benefactors...  It's no doubt, media and industry are the new church and their circling the wagons.  The only other thing; position military units around the world.  Not for the oil, but rather, use the oils grip to lend legitimacy to positioning armed troops strategically and geographically around the world.  It's all going to be very evident in a few years...it's all bull shit, good night Irene, good night.....

INT:  THE NEXT MORNING - POLICE PRECINCT 54

  This precinct was just like any other police station that was under funded, under manned, and completely burned out.  No one was coming to help.  The City Counsel, federal funding, nothing, these poor bastards were on their own.

INT:  PRECINCT 54 SQUAD ROOM – MORNING BRIEFING

    Officer Sandy Owens was leaning over in an effort to eavesdrop on two officers sitting in the second row.  The officers were recanting to each other the events of the night before when they were called to ‘check on’ the two doughnut eaters whom they eventually found dead, laying on a wet, dark, corner in a  bad section of town.  They were ‘practicing’ what had happened so when called to explain this morning, they both had their stories straight.  After all, they didn’t want to look like shit if the hotel incident became an issue with the duty officer.

    Feeling uneasy, they suddenly turned to see Officer Owens staring in their direction, and close enough to have heard everything.  She just smiled and leaned back in the cold, metal, grey chair.  The two doughnut boys turned to the front and started to sweat.

INT:  BREIFING ROOM

    Duty Officer Candy stood at the front of the session.  A huge, faded green blackboard hung on the wall behind the six foot five redneck.  His face looked as if he were giving it time to heal from pounding it on asphalt; red, lined, scared and pounded raw from fighting when he drank.  His last name assured him of his destiny and provided an excuse to fearlessly beat people by breaking them physically.  Nobody can stand up to his pounding and most of those who tried are sitting in front of him with scars, both physical and mental.  He just never could join the ‘good old boys club’.  When he was in a bar, he would sit in the back, in the dark, waiting impatiently for the slightest derogatory remark concerning police or women.  He  especially liked to tear up off duty shit cops, and women beaters.  He drank every night, he always looked like that. He tells people he’s just carrying on tradition.  Ridding the world of crap, one pile at a time.  The squad always looked forward to the moment he lifted his head after reading the roster; the condition of his teeth and the stench always made the new cadets reel in their seats, because they had to sit in the front row.  Candy would look down on them from the podium and smile while getting real close so there was no mistake what he meant.  Officer Owens thought she’d puke when he did it to her.  She just smiled and said ‘yes sir’.  He got the hell away, real fast.  She wiped that shit-eaten grin right off his face and he knew the whole squad saw it.  She crossed those great legs slowly and he almost wet his pants.  To this day we don’t know if she did or did not have on any panties, but she sent the mauler back to the chalk board for good, that morning.  He never looked her way again.

INT:  SQUAD ROOM-MORNING

    There were chalk drawings of the apparent homicide scene from last night as well as an itemized list of events, issues, and possible clues waiting for the shift change that morning.  The two officers who were first on the scene of last nights homicide stared aghast at that portion of the blackboard with a sketch depicting the location of the three bodies, and the direction the two of them ran and entered the hotel building.  The direction of their exit from that building was also on the board, only it was in yellow chalk.  Next to those lines were the times the two of them entered and exited the hotel building.  Of obvious importance was a very large notation saying “four shots fired!’  The two of them turned and looked at each other, glanced back just in time to see Officer Owens leaning forward again,  (Owens -“are the two of you going back?”) dough boys (what the fucks it to you?).  Owens – “I need a big case to get the hell out of here, this is it.  I’ll go back to the hotel for you.  I have a hunch.”)  The two of you sit this one out.  What the hell, after hearing your conversation, I can use the information I heard to help my case, or I can tell the O.D. glaring down on the two of you from the front of the room,  and he can use it to help his case!  What’s it going to be?  Dough boys, “how we gonna to do this?”  Owens, “I volunteer to spearhead this case, and the two of you back me up.  I don’t care if you have to brush his teeth, you make sure I get this case or I talk.  “Any questions, gentlemen?” 

INT:  HOTEL HALLWAY – JIMMY’S ROOM

JIMMY

2. I could barely hear the knocking at my door.  The muffled, delicate, knocks slowly crept into a dream I was living until finally, the pecking woke me.  I lay on the couch, silent, listening for about two minutes.  I could make out shuffling on the other side of the door to my flat.  Then it came again…soft, knocking.  As if someone didn’t really mean to do it.  Delicate hitting of the door; again, as if not to offend.  A knock of inquisition, of poking the bear through the bars with a stick and hoping he really doesn’t wake.  I thought to myself, it must be a woman.  A small person because the knocks were low on the door and faint.  A man would have become quickly impatient, pounded and yelled something; a fear of not being in charge of the situation.  If a man thought you were letting him stand there and knock like a trained seal, he would use the only alternative left him, he would silently leave.  Taking great care you could not hear his retreat.  Figuring you would finally come to the door and no one would be there to greet you; a man would figure he won if he had the last laugh and left you standing there alone, as you did him.  If a woman thought you were in the room, she would keep knocking until you came; knowing the pestering would finally get the best of you, infuriate you, and send you into some kind of furor, knowing deep inside if she kept the knocks delicate, rhythmic, and innocent, most people would not kill a small, pretty, bird.  And that fact would really piss you off; but what alternative have you?  You could start a war.  Wait for a pause in her tapping and fart loudly and wildly.  Snore in excess and bang a few things around for her to hear.  Yell as loud as you can, “sum-bitch, would you leave us the hell alone?”, high emphasis on the ‘us’.  And then there’s the real deal closer, “if I get up, I’m going to kill something, god dam it, mother….fu…!”, and break something made of glass for emphasis.  Or, “you’ll get the fu..ing money when I get it, now get the fu…out of here before I shoot…then through an empty wine bottle sharply, against the door”  You have to be careful they don’t hear you laugh when they stumble backward in shock!  How about, “I told you, you’re daughters not in here, now piss off!”
3. You could silently get up, creep to the door in your stinking, stocking feet and when you get there, softly ask “who is it?”  If a soft, delicate, woman’s voice answers…tell her to come closer so you can hear her better.  Then when you think she’s against the door, pound the door as hard as you can and tell her you don’t want any damn cookies!
    
4. Of course we won’t do any of those things.  We are civilized and hung over from last night, aren't we?  Any sound louder than her ‘pitter-patter’ taps would surely mimic trash can lids on the Corps squad bay floors!
    
5. Who is it, you ask from the warm folds of  the couch?  Again,............... who is it please?
    
6. It’s Officer Sandy Owens.  May I please have a word with you, about last night?
    
7. You know she has to be scared.  Standing in that filthy, dark, hallway would test anyone's stones.  The stench and the creatures watching and listening from the cracks in their doorways just adds to the charm.  The whispers from behind semi-closed doors are reminiscent of a bad sci-fi movie.   All in all, the whole situation is enough to prevent reason...  She has guts; I have to give her that.  Stupid, but guts.  If someone shot her, she would lay there for days before the maintenance man found her.
   
   INT:  JIMMY'S ROOM

    He needed a moment to plan his act.  What character will he play for the investigator, he mused.  I know, I'll be just who she expects,  I'll be 'Jimmy, the illiterate, society fuck' for her majesty. 

    His last butt hanging from his lip, "just a minute, I sleep naked, ya know!"

INT:  HOTEL HALLWAY - TOP OF THE LANDING - DIRECTLY OUTSIDE JIMMY'S DOOR

    Playing the injured lamb, Officer Owens throws Jimmy a bone "I'm very sorry to disturb you sir, I'm just doing my job.  After all, a girls got to work, doesn't she?".  (she feels stupid, and realizes too late, he's smarter than that......he's playing her)

                                                                                             silence

    the dog chews on the bone for a minute....while thinking....

INT:  JIMMY'S ROOM - HE IS BREATHING SLOWLY AND WAITING

    she may be a little more crafty than first envisioned...she must be a new officer.  She doesn't have the experience to not do what she is doing, or she is very coy.....she's trying to garner morsels of insight into my demeanor, my psyche.  No commander would send a novice to this hell hole, it would be suicide...she is special in some way, unique and daring to say the least.  I'll let her play out her role for awhile.  I'll let her in.  Should I offer her the renaissance chrome and yellow vinyl chair, or shall I see how the couch with the four bullet holes and gunpowder stains, reacts to her?  Her reactions to the smell of gunpowder and the holes in the couch should be interesting.....she gets the couch.  Besides, if I gave her the chair, she would surely know my view of our little corner of the world, and the streets below, wouldn't she?

    Just a minute Officer....... I'll be right there...

INT:  HOTEL HALLWAY - TOP OF THE LANDING - DIRECTLY OUTSIDE JIMMY'S DOOR

OFFICER OWENS

    Listening intently at the door, she could have sworn she heard two distinct voices....maybe he does have company...just maybe there is two in the room...

    She can see the door moving slightly from the occupant leaning on it from the other side....he is very close.  She can hear him breathing....

VOLLEY BALL

INT:  JIMMY'S ROOM

JIMMY

    Jimmy pauses before he opens the door...he knows she is watching from the other side...the door slowly opens.  (he's waiting to see if she tries to force herself into the room, to see if she is impatient and shows her hand).

SANDY

    She knows the game...she slowly steps back, hand on her weapon,  and watches intently as the door opens wide.  There standing in front of her is a ruggedly handsome man, about thirty five, half shaven and bright blue eyes!  His trousers are wrinkled, but his shoes are tied, and his faded, Hawaiian short sleeved shirt is tucked in.  He has a great smile and gives her a wonderful "Hello".  Sorry it took so long but I've been sliding for so long, I forget the importance of some things.  As he gestures for her to have a seat.  He leads her to the overstuffed couch, and beckons her to sit.

INT:  JIMMY'S ROOM - BOTH IMMEDIATELY LIKE EACH OTHER

JIMMY

    Jimmy goes to the fridge and opens the door.  (a meaningless gesture, he knows there is nothing in it.  He is stumbling, trying to remember his lines as he goes, and he is loosing the war).  Oops, sorry, haven't been shopping today.  I was going to offer you a pop, my mistake. 

SANDY

She smiles while glancing at the cord to the refer, it was un-plugged. 

JIMMY

He's not used to sparing in his own domain, 'on - the - wing' as it were.  He follows her bright eyes to the lifeless cord.  Ok, ok, you have me there.  I'm really sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone today.

SANDY

"Or any other day", (she fires the first 'volley' at the struggling criminal, as he tries to regain composure.....)

JIMMY

In an attempt to gain control of an awkward situation, (in his best, no-give-a-shit Gene Hackman imitation, "what can I do for you, Officer?"

SANDY

She expected an 'about face' but not in this severity.  At first she was caught off-guard by his charming appearance (a struggling, handsome,  school teacher) and his awkward attempt at servility and graciousness.  He has inadvertently put her back 'on-duty', a foolish gesture.  She muses for a moment as she carefully scans the bleak room...... her next move is a stroke of genius.   It catches him off guard.  She starts with a beautiful smile.....second 'volley'      No reason to get testy, how about a drink of that cheap wine?  (his jaw drops....he watches intently as she picks up the dirty bottle from the coffee table), got a glass?
 

JIMMY

looking like a kid who just got his first kiss............he liked her right from the start.  He doesn't want to 'play mad' any more.....

(thinking to himself)........tricky bastards .....he smiles as he walks to the cupboard....

INT:  JIMMY'S ROOM

SANDY

    So..what were you doing last Saturday night?

JIMMY

    to the best of my recollection, hiding from the world...

SANDY

    explain....

JIMMY

    if I must...

SANDY

    you must....

JIMMY

    I left my flat about six p.m. and went to a bar I had never been in before....I had been asked to leave my favorites...

    after being asked to leave that one, I sat in the pouring rain for awhile, then hugged the buildings until I fell into a theater of sorts, where I succumb to an ear-banging about religious crap.

SANDY

    how were you at the bar, and how long were you in the theater?

JIMMY

    don't really remember...time was not an issue... but at lease an hour in the bar, and maybe two in the theater. 

    Anyway, after the theater I lit a cigarette while standing in a doorway and looked up, just in time to see figures moving around in my room....I could see them through the open window facing the street.

SANDY

    what did you do next...?

JIMMY

    I disappeared because shortly thereafter I realized I was standing in the middle of a carnival...

SANDY

    explain carnival....

JIMMY

    I was surrounded by flashing lights, unfamiliar sounds, and people off in the distance, standing in the pouring rain on a street corner...you know...a carnival atmosphere...I don't like carnivals...too much going on...too much information...a stress on the senses...

SANDY

    Oh...  Well let me ask you this....were the people you saw standing on the corner, police?  And could the flashing lights have been police car lights?

JIMMY

    I suppose anything is possible...but you have to consider, I had been drinking all day and things weren't to clear...with the rain and all.

SANDY

    Ok, I'll give you that, you say it's possible the carnival was a police issue.   If, as you say, it was possible they were police, then why didn't you go to them for help when you observed the intruders....?

JIMMY

    Perhaps I should 'set the stage' for you.  It was pouring rain, and I thought I saw flashes inside my dark room.  It reminded my of gun flashes from the war...maybe not, but either way, I didn't want any part of it. 
    As to "why didn't I go to the police for help?", assuming I knew they were police....it's simply, why?  Who have they ever helped, down here in the bottoms?  Answer, nobody.  Their like parasites on the helpless...and if your a realist....you already know that.

SANDY

    (ignoring that last stab)...so who do you think was in your room?

JIMMY

    Is this for the record?

SANDY

    It's always "for the record", now who's the realist?  Yes, it's "for the record".

JIMMY

    It was two of the officers you were sitting behind, in the squad room at this mornings briefing.

SANDY

    How do you know that?  (looking bewildered, with her best 'innocent mask')

JIMMY

    Three reasons....First, because you are here, in my room....this room.  Second, because upon my return, the two cops I saw run out of the hotel building were much older than you.  And third, that being the case, they have seniority over you, and as such, you would have been sitting in the back row this morning at the briefing.  Or am I wrong, this is not your first, major case?

SANDY

    (thinking to herself.  If he's not careful, he will give away a portion of his act that projects simplicity...simplicity of mind).

JIMMY

    (he realizes he has caught her off guard.  He didn't want to 'compete' with her, and he has just given her a slight glimpse into his real intellect; something he did not want to do....not just yet. 

    Now, to play the 'simpleton' would be, in itself, reflect a simplistic mind...she's smarter than that...chalk one up for her, if she caught it.

    (he rose from the chair, as if he had something else across the room, needing his attention.  When in actuality, he was providing her with an un-observed moment to compose herself, and use the 'alone time' to compose her next act.)

SANDY

    With baited breath she watched as Jimmy entered the kitchenette, his back facing her indecision, the air in the room was stifling as she became keenly aware of the awkward silence...she found herself  staring while her mind searched frantically for those precious, intellectually equal words........fear was trying to seep in........if he turned he would surely see her face was flush and blank...........self doubt had wrenched a piece of confidence from her...a small piece...but never-the-less large enough that she started to recognize a chink needing repair.........fuck him she thought,........  I'm the one in charge here!

    (pretending the silence was due to her drinking slowly...she needed more time) She waited for him to turn before lifting the dirty coffee cup to her lips, mmmmm...mmmm....unique to say the least!

JIMMY

    Jimmy smiled, ( the first volley was his, he knew it, but he'll  give her an 'A' for guts...she looked like she just found out she forgot her gun....but what the hell.....it's good huh, referencing the empty wine bottle on the shit coffee table......?

SANDY

    She wasn't expecting that, his smile took her by surprise...and his attempt at a joke...both knew the wine was shit.....(she just realized he didn't give a shit, she was a cop....it meant nothing to him....he was just trying to be friendly....they both broke out in loud laughter....

JIMMY

    he fully knew she had almost choked on the piss water he served her...besides,  now she knew perhaps more than she expected....a little gift....to break the ice....

SANDY

    so....you going to tell me anything I don't know? 

JIMMY

yea...but it's going to cost you, and your going to have to wait........

SANDY

explain.....

JIMMY

how'bout I clean up, take a week to get a job and some cash.....would you have dinner with me.......?

SANDY

(speechless).....this was getting too close, real fast.......let's say I give you a call in a few weeks........only if you promise to have a better memory about the other night........deal?

JIMMY

(speechless)....(he just knew she would fall back on the 'cop' thing and bow out, but she didn't )  ......you got a deal....hell I can drag this out forever.....

SANDY:   HAD RISEN AND WAS STANDING BY THE DOOR, WITH HER BACK TO HIM....

(she glanced back, just in time to see his silhouette in the sunlight with a slight breeze coming through the window behind him.  She couldn't see his face because of the glare...)   remember....two weeks.....you better be ready for a grueling interrogation, don't forget the candles.....!  (she opened the door and closed it without looking back again) 

JIMMY:  THE HALLWAY:  JIMMY RACED TO THE DOOR, PAUSED AND OPENED IT QUIETLY, BUT QUICKLY....HE GLANCED AT THE OPEN DOORS LINING THE FILTHY HALLWAY....THE ONES WITH THE DARK 'THEY'LL NEVER CATCH ME'  FACES JUST FAR ENOUGH IN THE DARK SO YOU CAN'T MAKE THEM OUT, DOORWAYS.......JIMMY GAVE THEM ALL THE LOOK HE WAS FAMOUS FOR, THE LOOK YOU SEE WHEN HE'S BEEN DRINKING, .....THE ....."YOU TOUCH ONE HAIR ON THAT GIRL.... AND.... THE... YOU HAVEN'T SEEN UGLY YET"  LOOK....THE DOORS SLOWLY CLOSED WITHOUT INCIDENT....ALLOT OF MUMBLING AND WHISPERING BEHIND THE BROKEN LOCKS AND CHAIN LATCHES.....BUT NO TAKERS.....

JIMMY:  INT:  HIS ROOM:

    as he entered the room, he was greeted by the sweet scent of her lingering perfume........funny he thought..............hadn't  noticed  it before...... it's been a long time since I'd seen roses...

    he walked over to the open window, and tried to catch a glimpse of her walking across the street.....(he stood just far enough inside and behind the faded curtains so if she looked up he wasn't so obvious).....she was just bending over to get into the little, beat up, Renault.  What a great figure she had....the wind was blowing her skirt sideways....

SANDY:  EXT:  STREET:

just as she looked to pull out from the curb...she slyly glanced up to his window through her side mirror...(she smiled to herself)  he was there all right......the skirt must have worked...zooooooom...she was gone.

EXT:  PRECINCT 54, REAR PARKING LOT, BUILDING ENTRANCE:

    two cops, one holding a piece of paper....(watching Sandy approach), hey sweetie...this may be something you might be interested in....(she was within inches from him) as he read aloud the fine print on the bulletin "six unsolved killings in Baton Rouge, Louisiana".  Kind of fits this M.O.  no clues, ghetto area of town, and it looks like some drunk with the first name of Jimmy was questioned........along with others.......coincidence.......who knows?  And look at this.....no women...just guys killed.   He hands the document to an awe struck Sandy.

EXT:  PRECINCT 54, REAR PARKING LOT, BUILDING ENTRANCE:

(Sandy stares at the document in disbelief)....(the two beat cops continue into the parking lot and enter their cruiser.  With the turn of a key, the two drive past the rookie skirt on their way to the mean streets).

EXT:  PRECINCT 54, REAR ENTRANCE:

(Sandy regains her composure while entering the swinging doors.  The mirror finish on the polished, eighty year old wooden floors broke her concentration as she walked to the empty desk in the middle of the large room.  She could feel everyone looking her way, after all, they had all become familiar with the communiqué earlier that day in the squad room briefing while she was gone.

INT:  LARGE SQUAD ROOM, REPLETE WITH SMALL CUBICLES BUZZING WITH THE NEWS:

    (Duke walks up....shoves a pile of papers aside to make room for a cup of coffee.  As she looks up, his gentle smile assured her all they were thinking about was her feelings and her safety).  Hey, did anyone tell you, Captain had a car watching his room while you were up there?  We would miss you kiddo!

INT:  SQUAD ROOM:

(Sandy swivels her chair to get a better view of the room, all were looking in her direction with smiles.....she was embarrassed and quickly turned away.)  She looked up, forcing a smile, she thanked Duke for the coffee....and watched as he walked away. She leaned back in her chair and  (she read the rest of the communiqué, it appeared "Jimmy" , an ex-boxer who had disappeared, was asked to submit to a mental examination, he agreed.  When it was deemed he was an alcoholic and had duel personalities  "The subject refused to accept the diagnosis and as such refused treatment".  There was no evidence this subject had any contact with the victims, the officers were just following leads on  people who lived within close proximity to the crimes, Jimmy was one of these 'locals', it further states " interest was lacking", but as we all know, things change; hence, the communiqué.   The case is in "limbo', and now police are seeking this individual for further questioning as a result of dead ends and pressure from the media.  Unfortunately, the subject was missing or had moved from the area.  The revived interest in the case came when one of the investigators re-read a modified coroner's report that stated one of the victims may have died from multiple bruising and blunt trauma to the skull; similar to boxing injuries.  The hair and scalp hid the superficial head  wounds from a hurried first inspection.  The communiqué went further to ask local jurisdictions to inform the Baton Rouge police of his location, should he surface in their precincts.  It went on to say "this person may be considered armed and dangerous,  and that caution is prudent",  The second page of the communiqué went on to state, this same individual had experienced severe head trauma seven years prior to this date from a sanctioned boxing fight.  Information upon request.  Baton Rouge, Louisiana Police Department.

INT:  SQUAD ROOM, SANDY'S DESK....

the coffee was getting cold as she noticed the "Photo on request" typed at the bottom of the page.......(she mused)....how could it be the same guy.....I  only had three bodies and no clues, they had four?  The princess bit her lip as she stared at the long distance phone number next to the "Photo on request" text.  What the hell, it can wait until tomorrow.......does she want the photo from Baton Rouge before or after dinner with the ghetto mystery man......?

INT:  SQUAD ROOM, SANDY'S DESK...

  Sandy was pouring over the investigation sheets of the two dead beat cops.  It seemed odd there where about twenty of them.  The last page was a brief discovery and explanation regarding the dead John Doe found not far away. An apparent 'jumper', a suicide.  Of interest was that she found no follow-up.  Which building, after all, an alley has a building on each side!  Jumped from where, she wondered...a window...the roof...?  What the hell is going on...? 

    She picked up the 'book' on the two dead officers and started to read.  Apparently when they weren't on duty or in a bar,  they were in the I.A.'s (Internal Affairs) office explaining away their lives...  They were investigated for participation in the rackets; including prostitution, gambling, and using their authority as police officers to intimidate witnesses of crimes and/or to silence the brave.  Without tangible proof, the two of them were demoted and summarily banished to the exciting end of town to save the department embarrassment by association.  Although the precinct  had a tacit responsibility to their 'brothers', Sandy got the impression by reading between the lines, there were some brethren actually hoping for that call the other night, when everyone realized the two 'brothers' weren't' coming home.  Furthermore, that explains why it took so long for the first officers to arrive on the scene, followed much later by the coroner.  No one was in a hurry to get there!  The problem was solved for them......let it go. 

INT:  PRECINCT 54, SANDY STANDING IN FRONT OF "RECORDS".

   Sandy had asked the clerk who was standing behind the wire cage, if any information came from the coroner's office concerning the John Doe.  What did his  fingerprints reveal?  The clerk said nothing, and gave her 'the look' as she passed a thick file under the cage window.  Sandy could not believe her eyes, the file was three inches thick!  This will have to wait until morning....she smiled back to 'the sister' and vanished down the hall.

EXT:  SANDY DRIVING HOME:

  She was almost giddy as the three inch file rested next to her on the bench seat of her tiny Renault.  The rain had started again with the sun fighting to break through.  Not until then had she realized  she had not been to sleep since she awoke yesterday morning.  She had been going non-stop.  First the morning briefing, the pinch on the two cops, the career move, then the assignment, then the witness dance in Jimmy's  room, then the communiqué, then the 'book' on the two dirty cops, and now the three in thick dossier on the John Doe no one wanted to investigate....the suicide.   A shower sounded good.....a hot tub sounded better......a massage....oh well.

INT:  OFFICER OWENS' APARTMENT:

    As the door opened  to her flat, distant sirens were riding misty breezes through an open window.   She removed her key from the lock as curtains sweeping dust balls across a neglected floor strained to reach out and pull her in.  Street light from below cast the small bungalow in a warm glow as she kicked  her shoes towards  shadows dancing across dull wooden floors.  She could barely make out fifties music emanating from the small transistor radio her father had given her as a present when she left home for the big city.  It was like a cat she never had, mewing from somewhere in the darkness , but so softly she could never find it.   The rookie dumped her briefcase, purse, and the three inch thick internal affairs investigation on the wingback chair her mother gave her.   Into the bathroom, put a match to a candle, twist  a few knobs,  the sound of warm flowing water filled the room.  A quick dash to the fridge, the yellow glow of a medium priced chardonnay, and thousands of  Goosebumps tickled her tired body as she sank into her space.  She was not one to waste money, but tonight, she let the water run as she slid further and further into the rising, undulating, pool of apathy.  Sips of chardonnay teased her decadence as every muscle in her body failed her....

INT: THE NEXT DAY SANDY'S FLAT:

     The next morning, Sandy found herself sipping a hot chocolate as she strained her eyes to decipher blue ink and smudged pencil scribbling that possessed no respect for boundaries on dogged pages.  Each page had scribbling in the boarders, in the lines, across lines...it just didn't make sense.  While reading pages from the worn manila folder that followed her home last night, she couldn't shake the feeling someone just threw the pages together.  There is no punctuation.  No professionalism in the journal.   Almost as if someone was in a hurry and knew no one else would be looking at it!  No one else would have to make sense of it.  She was sure all the information was there, but its assembled as one would put together a puzzle.  The ‘suicide’ had too many prior arrests,  and too many friends in the police department. His main forte was befriending women and then getting them to partake in prostitution. He has been arrested twice for soliciting precinct beat cops with sexual favors if they looked the other way when in his neighborhood. As far as Internal Affairs was concerned, he found a few married ’brothers in blue’ who willingly took the bait and used them. The two dead beat cops that were found the other night are on the ‘active’ list. Unfortunately a quick call to I.A. revealed they never had enough tangible evidence and none of the cops in question knew anything. Furthermore, the department didn’t want it to become a ‘priority’ case, so the original investigators took the suits hint and dropped all interest.  None of them even pursued incriminating photos; furthermore,  they were denied shift time for stakeouts.  No shift time, no pension for their families if things went south.  After a few early morning calls, the officers in I.A. said “they were told to forget it, and arrest some real criminals”. Nevertheless, Sandy  had to find out who killed the officers, and who killed the invisible ‘John Doe’, fifteen feet away.   A suicide a few yards from two dead police officers just seemed too coincidental for the new rookie to get the case.   It’s a possibility the two officers exited their cruiser to investigate a body in the alley, and died for their trouble. After all, it was dark, wet, raining like cats and dogs; on the other hand, they were seasoned officers….they were pros. As such, why didn’t they get any further than the sidewalk?  They would have never exited their cruiser without calling for backup unless the streets were safe.  Weather wise, a perfect night for a killing. The rain washing away any forensic evidence and contaminating whatever remained. Was the killer running towards them? Were they killed first or second? And what about Jimmy with that first class view and no answers?
Time to get dressed and check some tenement rooms. No uniform today, just civvies, a recorder, her pet Smith & Wesson stinger, and her best knocking hand.

EXT: HER APARTMENT DOOR CLOSED ABOUT 9:30 A.M.:

    She loved the site of "The Ever faithful, Pale Green Jelly Bean" waiting at the curb. “Good car, faithful car” she whispered as she approached the Renault. There is nothing worth stealing so the neighborhood punks leave it alone.   Some treat her like their ‘token’ neighborhood cop, and let her stay.   Most of the blue collar like the feisty cop, say she has guts.  They think she cares.  Not just about them, but their families.   She knows school is a joke and jobs don’t exist for street punks trying.   The military won’t take them anymore. You can’t even sign up to die without having the smarts to know not to.

EXT: MIDDLE OF CLARK AVENUE, IN TRAFFIC:

    Jimmy is standing in the middle of the block, watching her while she sits in traffic. She can see his reflection in the small mirror attached to the drivers’ door. As if he could possibly see her face, he starts to wave; she leans out the open window, looks back and waves back. She sees him start to walk her way, but luck was with her, the light had turned and traffic started moving.... Without looking back, she put her arm out the window and waved again as the jelly bean sped off.   A quick glance in the mirror and a breath of fresh air told her she could relax as her new friend, head down,  turned and walked in the opposite direction. She couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing so close to where she lived?  She couldn't help but wonder if she did the right thing...after all...isn't everyone innocent until proven guilty?  The sun's glare through the light green antique windshield made her squint and instinctively fumble for her sun glasses.  With her 'shades' on, and the warm sun on her face, she was back in traffic trying not to break a nail, searching for that 60's radio station...all is right in the world.

INT:  SQUAD ROOM:  EMPTY.

    Sandy entered the squad room.  She was amused to see dog breath standing at the podium, and the room silent.  She was uneasy and unaccustomed to the room being empty.  Besides, her nylons itched.  They always itched when something was about to happen.  Something was up...her 'radar' on, she  listened for clues as she slowly sat down in the back of the room.  The duty officer, without talking, motioned her to sit in the front row.  She grabbed her purse and attaché case and moved ever so quietly to the front row.  She sat to one side of the podium and watched as super cop ignored her while shuffling papers.  His motioning was reminiscent of calling a dog.

INT:  SQUAD ROOM: 

   The duty officer said "does anything look peculiar to you, Officer Owens?".   Yes, was the answer.  He addressed her again, this time a bit softer.  Everyone is out on call Miss Owens.  She detected a note of concern in his voice.  Again, he looked down from the podium and said " The two cops who fired their weapons the other night are on administrative leave until we find out what the hell they shot.  They're saying nothing."   Anyway, how's your case going?  Just getting started sir.  Well, take your time....we're in no hurry around here.  She thought for a moment, then without the slightest hesitation,  said "his couch".  The Duty looked at her as if in disbelief, said "what?".  She stood up and walked to the podium,  and said "they both panicked and shot his couch, thinking it was someone hiding in the dark room".   The Duty charged again, "where the hell did you hear that?".  Killing him with that wonderful smile and knowing the last time he was this close to a woman was twenty years ago when he arrested a prostitute, she took her sweet time and finally said " no one told me.  I knew they were in his room; besides, there are two holes in his couch that smell of gun powder."  Owens, the only way you could know that is if you were in his room!  Are you telling me you've been in that psychos  room?  With her back towards him,  her long legs brought her quickly to the door.... and a quick glance back, told him all he needed to know.  She paused.....and that's not all, if he cleans himself up and gets a job, I've got a date in two weeks!  She held the open door  just long enough to give him the last word.   Dismissed officer Owens....followed by his usual jack-o-lantern smile.  As she closed the door.....the duty called her again...."Owens!.....you check in with me....that's an order!"  No smile that time, he didn't even look up.   He was pissed she might get hurt on his watch.  The last time he worried about someone was when he had a life.  His life vanished seven years ago and took the kid.  The best half of his paycheck had gone cross country.

INT:  HALLWAY, PRECINCT 54.

    Sandy couldn't help wonder why he wanted her to drag her feet....and why weren't there any 'speech' witnesses in the squad room....pretty good timing for everyone to be 'on call'.

INT:  HALLWAY, PRECINCT 54.

    Senior Detective Adrian was motioning for her to come closer, as he quickly closed the gap himself, "hey Sandy, the Property Room needs that folder back"...as he walked passed her smiling. 

    How the hell did he know?  That file sure came under that window easy....barely had to ask 'sister' for that three inch book of scum.  Stockings itching again....guys in the cells smiling as she raises her hemline just an inch, trying to scratch it....

INT:  HOBB'S CITY TAXI.  JIMMY'S FIRST DAY ON THE JOB.  TWO BLOCKS FROM WHERE SANDY LIVES.  HE DOESN'T KNOW IT. 

                                                                                                                        ( A big boost up, he washes taxis.)

    Hey asshole, you're three minutes late!  (came over the speakers).  Jimmy's vision blurs for a second as he slowly turns to look in the dead mans direction, he smiled as the fat man's eyes met his.....'the look' made the big man forget his next line.  His 'shtick' gone, the heart attack holding the Mic, searched the room for an excuse to look away.  Jimmy didn't wait, in the deafening silence he walked over to where some wash buckets were stacked next to a box of clean rags.  The rest of the guys looked on as quiet Jimmy started washing old number # 33.....funny what a guy will and wont do for a meal, he thought.  He could feel the big mans eyes on the back of his neck.  The Union would understand, screw fat boy.  Who knows, we may become friends and share a drink some night....

EXT:  THE WAY HOME:  Sandy.
 

    Sometimes you never make a light.  Mid-town and gas must have been free today!  Everyone's sweating and barely moving as she rounds the corner and on to her street.  She's only about thee blocks from her flat when out of the corner of her eye she sees Jimmy coming out of an underground garage!  What the hell is he doing here?  She decides to park, get out, and tail him on foot until she figures it out.  This is the second time she's seen him near her house...just a little too coincidental she thought...Once in the morning when she's going to work, and now when she's coming home...what gives?

EXT:  THE WAY HOME:  Jimmy.

    As he paused on the sidewalk to light a cigarette, he sees the Jelly Bean stuck in traffic, pull over and park, and Sandy get out and walk to the shade next to a building.  She looked like she was looking for something in the display window of a store.  He decides to surprise her as he zigzags through the stopped traffic, while coming up behind her on the sidewalk. 

EXT:  THE WAY HOME:  Sandy.

    She watches intently, but a little scared as she sees him in the reflection of the glass.  She dare not move as she watches him come up behind her.  Just as he approached, she started to turn....

EXT:  THE WAY HOME:  Jimmy.

    Hey Officer Owens...(she turns and meets his great smile).  What a great day...and how are you?  (before she can reply) Boy you look great, how about a cup of coffee, I got an advance?

EXT:  THE WAY HOME:  Sandy.

    What do you mean, you got an advance?

EXT:  THE WAY HOME:  Jimmy.

    I started my new job today.....I told you I'm serious about that dinner!  It's not much, but it's a start.  Come-on, just one cup? 

EXT:  THE WAY HOME:  Sandy.

    She just looked at him in disbelief, mouth dropped wide open.  Are you kidding me?  Her face turned flush (he knew he had her, and he knew what she was up to.  Once again he had caught her off guard)  She didn't know if she should run, laugh, or kiss him for making her day by giving her the best compliment a girl could get.  Here this guy is, trying to better himself just to take me out to dinner....how great is that?  She smiled as she put her arm in his, and as the two of them turned to walk down the sidewalk, she looked up and said "your buying and those cups better be clean....".

EXT:  ACROSS THE STREET.

    Sal and Avery slumped down in their seat as much as they could; if Sandy got a glimpse of them, the jig was up.  D.O. Candy would be really pissed if they blew the surveillance.  Sal and Avery thought of Sandy as a sister; kind of like the youngest in a family, and volunteered for the duty, even if it meant their time.  Besides, "she hasn't even shot anyone yet" was the reasoning Candy accepted to let the pit bulls chaperone.  They watched from over the window edge as the two lovers pushed the shiny plate glass door and entered Moe's, 8th Street Coffee & Steak.  The place use to be a mob hangout until all went south during the Kennedy years, but she didn't know it.  The chaperones remembered the place had one back exit from the old days.  The new owner uses it for garbage and deliveries, but then it was different.  The only thing the mob threw out was bodies, and they were so bold then, booze deliveries came in the front door.  You can only guess whose face they were rubbing it in.  The back door was used  to escape, and nothing more.  It's anyone's guess  why they called what they did, escaping.  Anyone stacking crates in that hallway got beat or disappeared, a sacrilege to the pasta boys.  Hell, the way they ate, only one of them could fit through the skinny doorway at a time!  If we could see three of them through the windows when the place was getting raided, we just laughed and waited for the farting and bitching.  If there was  a fire, they were gone!  As a matter of fact, the place burned in 59, no one knows how it started.  Six of them died of smoke inhalation; they couldn't get out the rear door, and it was out of the question to run to the front door.  Sal and Avery said they couldn't reach the fire extinguisher after they arrived, or they would have helped.  When asked what time they arrived, they couldn't remember; said they were on lunch and did the best they could.   The mob never used the place again.  The place brought back memories for the two night owls on duty across the street in the cruiser.  Avery could still smell the smoke, told Sal the smell gave him the creeps after all these years.  Sal just smiled and stared across the street.  He remembers it too, but not quite like Avery.  The way he remembers it, The front door had a 49 Ford bumper blocking the exit, some idiot had pulled the car up on the curb and chained the handles of the front door to it.  No way out.  Some other idiot who got beat for stacking crates in the skinny hallway leading to the back door, did it again, and this time really clogged it up!  No one ever found him, no one bothered looking.   Hey Sal, It's starting to rain, rain hard!  Yea Avery, I know.  Maybe it'll wash away some of that memory your talking about!

EXT:  ACROSS THE STREET.  RAINING REAL HARD.

    Sal and Avery couldn't see two feet in front of their faces; they never saw Sandy and Jimmy leave.....not only did they have to roll the window up, but now the streets were clogged with traffic and people running to get out of the downpour.   Avery, jumped out of the cruiser and ran across the street to the side of the building.  Pulling his hat down, he looked in.  Just as he figured, they were gone.  A quick glance up the street told him the Jelly bean was also missing!  He ran into traffic and back to the waiting cruiser, Sal had it running....I'm not going back with no report,..........sum bitch!  As if possessed, they sped from the curb and into traffic.....think man.....think....where would they go?  Where would she take him, or worse, where would he take her?  It's raining Sal, she would take him home!  They hauled ass across town to the bottoms.  Just as they were rounding the corner and on to his street, Sandy was pulling away from the curb.  Sal pulled the cruiser to the curb and sat with the engine running.  Don't say a word Avery, not a word!  The two detectives watched as Jimmy stood on the steps in the pouring rain until she was out of site.  They couldn't believe their eyes!  As Jimmy walked into the hotel front door, Sal turned to Avery, "are you kidding me?"  Are these two an item?  It can't be, she' s investigating him.  He's our prime suspect.  Boy....the Duty ain't gonna like this! 

INT:  OFFICER OWENS APARTMENT.  OUTSIDE, IN THE HALL.

    Sandy paused as she started to put the key in the door.  She could have sworn she heard something from within the apartment.  Very quietly the brass key was slid into the lock and slowly turned it to the right.  A familiar 'click' told her the door was open.  She pushed the heavy door and slowly drew her gun from the holster.  As  the door swung open, another familiar 'click' broke the silence as her guns' 'safety' was set to off!  She paused in the open doorway and watched for moving shadows.  She entered and immediately moved to the right while instinctively  putting  her back against the wall to protect her 180!  As she slid into the living room, the curtains were whipping in the wind.  Making slapping sounds as they hit the sill.  She could see the wooden floor was wet from rain and the curtains were heavy with water.  She couldn't remember if she left the window open!  As usual, the street lights from below  lit up the small apartment pretty good.  The corners of the room were the only exception.  She silently watched and listened.  Her breathing was becoming labored and her muscles were starting to hurt from standing motionless against the wall.  Slowly she lowered the gun and silently fanned the room with the weapon.  No sounds, no movement.   Suddenly, in the corner of the room she saw something move!  It was on the floor and slowly moving behind the couch!  The front of the couch was four feet away now, and what ever had moved was behind it!  Sandy lowered the gun, and slid down the wall in a crouching position.  She paused and then moved very quickly to the back of the couch.  A cold wind had blown into the room spraying  her face with rain water.  The water momentarily blinded her as she scrambled to her feet!  The gun was pointing down towards the floor and the intruder!  Except for that portion of the room directly behind the couch, and the corners,  the room was dark and pretty well lit .  She ran to the door jamb and flicked the light switch to on!  The room lit up in the all too familiar golden glow.  She sprang back to the couch before the intruder had a chance to move.  Trying to keep her composure, she yelled, " get up you son-of-a-bitch before I shoot!  She saw the long haired creep lunge to her feet, and screamed just for a moment.  Not wanting to be shot, the intruder chose carefully his time to speak!  Seconds later, while laying at her feet, the intruder begged for mercy.....meow.....purrrrrr.....meow.........purrrrrrrrrrrrrr!  The wet fur ball's tail was curling around her ankle as she felt her breathing returning to normal!  A soaked, long haired, Himalayan fur ball lay at her feet, looking up and wanting to play.  As she was sank to the floor Sal came walking in, gun drawn and looking for something to shoot!  Sandy.....Sandy, where the hell are you?  She raised her hand up so he could see she was behind the couch.  As he ran over, "are you all right?"  I'm fine, but what are you doing here?  Oh,........Avery and I were just passing by and we saw your light on.  A cup of coffee sounded good, and coming up the stairs we noticed the door open and no one moving.  "Are you sure your all right?"  Yes Sal, this is the way I always come home!  Avery goes to the kitchen "you don't mind if I make some coffee, do you?"  Not at all detective....by the way, how did you know I drank coffee.  Without thinking, Avery replied, "oh, we know everything about you!"  Sal looked in his direction and said "while you're at it, why don't you tell her what the hell we're working on!"  Avery saw his disgust and turned his back to make the coffee......Sandy told the two of them she was going to dry off, when Sal said "can we ask you a couple of questions.........over some coffee?  While walking towards the bathroom, Sandy turned to the cat (who was sitting on top of the couch), and while pointing said "if they say anything while I'm gone, I want to know what it is!"  At that, she smiled and turned to the bath.....The cat was staring at Sal....watching his every move!............the rain had stopped and  fresh coffee smells filled the small apartment with pause....for a moment...the four of them were just fine.
    Sal turned the lights out for just a second as he walked to the open window.  "hey Avery, is there someone standing in that doorway, across the street?"  Avery came over to the window, careful not to stand in front, but moved to one side and carefully looked passed the blowing curtain.  Where, I don't see anything?  Over there, across the street.  I could swear I saw something move in that door way.  Just then, someone lit a cigarette in  one of the doorways across the street.  See, I told you!  Just then, Sandy came into the dark room, and after seeing what was going on, paused and crossed the room to stand behind Sal.  In a whisper, "what are you two doing?"  Sal turned and looked over his shoulder, "look across the street in that doorway".  He was pointing to the doorway with the small, red glow of a cigarette.  Who do you think it is?  I don't know, it can't be one of us, we're here!  Just then, the figure from below, darted across the street and into the shadows of a brick lined alley.  Seconds later, the three of them could hear screams from the street below.  What the.......!  Sal and Avery both turned on the balls of their feet and ran for the door.  As they opened the front door, the bright light from the hallway filled the room and caught Sandy standing alone in front of the window in her robe.  As the pounding of Sal and Avery running down the wooden stairs filled her ears, she ran to the bedroom to get dressed.  The rain was really pounding now and the curtains were slapping the sill again.  A howling wind had drowned out Sals gunshots from below!  Sandy leaped through the open door and jumped down the stairs.  After swinging the building front door open, she paused on the landing above the sidewalk.  The street and gutters were awash while  curtains of rain danced in and out of the street lights.  She looked intently up and down the street, and back again towards the alley.  There was no sign of Sal and Avery.  She waited and listened.  She couldn't wait any more, she ran down the steps and towards the alley entrance.  She stopped at the entrance and pushed herself into the brick corner.  The rain was hitting her hard as she tried to see around the corner and into the darkness.  Just inside the alley entrance, she could see something move as it lay on the bricks!  She watched for a second and surmised who ever it was was in pain or wounded!  She crept around the corner and into the alley, while keeping her back to the wall.  Her gun drawn now, she slowly knelt down and pulled the coat aside to see who it was.  She didn't recognize the person; but as she watched, his struggle soon ended.  It was if the driving rain had taken his life!  She backed herself up against the building while crouching.  She looked down the alley and in the next street light, saw two men.  One standing on one side of the alley, the other on the opposite side.  She could make out they had guns drawn and were holding them shoulder height as they cautiously looked around the street corner.  She watched as neither entered the next street, but instead, stood and waited.  She knew it was Sal and Avery.  The rain was letting up as she yelled down the alley, "are you all right?"  Sal yelled back, "stay where you are, we'll come to you!"  Sandy watched as the two silhouettes walked towards her with the street light behind them.  They were talking and laughing as they approached, " did you ever see anything like that?"  Sandy said "what".  Didn't you see what happened?  No, what the hell happened, and who is he?, motioning to the body laying before them.   Shit, he's ' Clancy the Fag', the rapist everyone has been looking for!  Some big son-of-a-bitch killed him, and right in front of Avery and me!  Then the guy ran down the alley!  We fired some warning shots, but he kept on running!  Son of a bitch, that guy could run!..........I never seen anything like it, he had a cape or rain coat on and flew around the corner..!  Jesus...I think he broke Clancy's neck with his bare hands!  Sandy slowing down a bit; so why didn't you chase the 'runner'?  Why?, came the reply.  As if on queue, two cruisers came wailing around the corner and stopped with lights flashing at the entrance to the alley!  The three foot soldiers used their hands to shade their eyes; hey, god damn it, how about turning out those lights!  One of the cruisers was listening, the others head lights looked like white beacons, shining from the depths of the ocean.  The torrential rain had started again; as if a water balloon split in two.  None of the cruisers occupants were getting out; instead they were content to watch the three paychecks stand in the rain.  After all, no one was really hurt, right?  The rain was still falling by the time the coroner arrived.  Avery told Sal "it's a joke, what the hell is he going to find in this shit?".  Sal took another puff of the limp cigarette he was nursing under the brim of the antique Fedora his father gave him.  The coroner looked like someone trying to make coffee in a stream.  There was nothing to do but load the corpse and get down town.  Sandy spoke under he breath, "once again, no clues".  Sal caught the last half, "what did you say?".  "Nothing" was the reply.  "I'm going to bed guys".
    Bull shit, came the reply from Sal.  "I'm going over to nuts-O's apartment to see if he's dried off yet!  A glance at Avery told her he was in, she knew the three of them should go together, "OK, god damn it, let's go!"  The three of them ran to the unmarked and jumped in.  Sal driving, Sandy sitting next to him, and Avery in the back seat loading the shot gun.  The cruiser's tires squealed as it slid around narrow streets with impossible corners.  Jesus Sal....who's driving?  Just hold on!  Sal turned off the head lights as the cruiser coasted up to the alley next to the Jimmy's apartment building.  Slowly Sal applied the brakes, the cruiser came to a virgin stop.  The rain muffled their intentions as  two of them got out and ran to the buildings front entrance.   Avery was still in the alley, slowly pulling down the fire escape ladder.  The two officers waited until Avery was on the fire escape platform at the top of the rusting stairs.   They watched as he entered the second floor open window.    Once inside the front door, they entered the dark hallway.  The smell of musty decay filled took their breath away. The stairway light was out, but the upper landing light lit the top third of the climb.  With their backs to the wall, Sal and the skirt slowly climbed to the top rung.  The din of rain drowned out the moans of eighty year old mahogany.  Once on the second floor landing, it was obvious the wet footprints led to Jimmy's apartment!  Avery was crouched down under the cover of darkness in an adjacent hallway waiting for direction and backup.  Sal motioned, and Avery  moved to the south side of Jimmy's door.  Then he moved to the north.  They hugged the jamb and motioned  to Sandy to kick in the door.  With gun raised, she laid the size eight on the center of the door;.......the sound of splitting wood and running feet broke the serenity of the bottoms.   The door slammed into the inside wall of the small apartment with a tremendous bang, before swinging back to greet the incoming officers!   The three of them plowed through each other before stumbling into position inside the dark room!  It was empty!  The could see light under the bathroom door and heard muffled singing!  They moved to the door, and slowly opened it.....there, under the open window, was Jimmy!  he was waist deep in bubble bath!  "Hi guys, what' s up?"  Get the hell out of that tub, asshole!  Was the reply from Sal, using his revolver for emphasis.  Jimmy's reply, 'there's a lady in the room, gentlemen!  Sal motioned to Sandy to withdraw.   Jimmy dawned a robe and led the two men out of the bathroom.  Smiling in Sandy's direction, "hey sweetie, what gives?"  "Sal called it, asshole!  Where have you been tonight?"  Right here was the reply.  "anyone want some coffee?"  Sal had the scent of blood; "you want to explain those wet footprints coming up those stairs and into your room..................asshole?"  Sure you don't want some coffee?, was the reply from the robe.  Jimmy turned and watched the three cops in front of him.  The hall light lit up the right side of the mannequins holding guns.  He paused for effect....before giving his answer.  Ok.....ok.....you got me............gesturing by raising his hands above his shoulders.  Then with a smile....."if you look carefully, you will see only one set of wet feet, right?"  That's because I went down to empty the garbage, and the cans are outside.  My feet got wet from the rain and I climbed the stairs.  What's the mystery?"  Sandy saw her chance, " how did your feet get wet?"  Sal turned to look for direction, where was she going with this?  Sandy winked with a smile.  "You heard me, how did your feet get wet?"  Jimmy knew she was fishing, but for what!!!!  In an awkward moment, Jimmy blurted out, "don't your feet get wet when you stand in the rain barefoot?"  She had him and she knew it!  Not when I'm wearing my shoes.....asshole!  Sal ran to the open door and looked at the landing....the wet footprints were made with shoes, not bare feet!!!!  Jimmy looked like a caged tiger, moving from side to side.....his eyes fixated on the glistening barrel of Avery's twelve gauge while the end of the barrel slowly came into view...Avery had raised the shot gun.................(as he has put it so delicately before) "for effect!"

INTERIOR, JIMMY'S ROOM:

Jimmy can barely see the faces, the hall lights are too bright behind them, but he can tell by their breathing, he's the only one that doesn't get the joke!  Then he speaks, Ok, so I don't get the punch line (as he moves quickly towards the landing, Avery stops him with the barrel of the shot gun,  Sal pipes up, let him go Av!  Jimmy continued between them to the landing just outside his door).  Staring down at the wet footprints in the hallway, just a I thought, that's really funny, one of you came in by way of the fire escape!  he turns to face the guns.  So if I read this right, two of you came up the stairs, dripped rainwater all over the place,  walked on my foot prints,the third one came down the hall from the other direction and did the same, and your telling me somewhere in all that stupidity you can tell I had on shoes when I emptied the trash?  The three cops looked down at the wooden floor, and at the pool of water.  And to make matters worse, I ask you, what the hell was I doing when the three of you came flying in here, assholes?  How about taking a bath!  Staring directly into Sandy's eyes, a cutting look, sweetie, you have a funny way of throwing a kiss a guys way!  I already told you dinners on me.  I'll give you guys a moment to gather the dignity you came in here with,  and another moment to give it all to the one who draws the short straw and is going to kiss my ass!  Staring at all three, he walks past and turns the living room light on.  I'm waiting................, you can start by telling me why you're here?

INTERIOR, JIMMY'S ROOM:

Sal was first, 'are you telling us you weren't outside tonight?  I  already told you I took care of some trash tonight....... officer!    Sandy was watching as a smile barely broke the corners of his lips.   Was that a hint?  After all, most people would consider the dead guy in the alley trash!  She glanced at Sal and Avery, they didn't get it.  As she walked over to the dinette set to sit down, she couldn't help but notice the bathroom light was still on, and a wet overcoat hung from the bathroom door.  She remembered Sal telling her about the cloaked stranger they had chased down the alley.  What the hell, she gave it one more try.......'what did you wear to take out the trash, house man?'   She was talking to Jimmy's back.  He was at the kitchen sink filling his favorite cup with hot coffee......his treat for 'winning one'.  He paused before answering......the dogs had picked up the scent again......why,......and so soon after making fools of themselves,...........why are they so eager to chance another rebuke?  He would drag the moment out.....there can only be one right  answer.......she would have never asked the question.....   He slowly raised the cup of Joe to his lips while looking at the kitchen window.  Not until his second sip, did he see the reflection of the room behind him.  He could see Sandy sitting at the dinette set, while Sal and Avery were giving her silent hand signals, trying to figure out what she was doing.   Finally, she motioned for them to look at the bathroom.  He searched intently in the reflection.......seconds later he saw it.......the wet overcoat hanging from the door!   Jimmy turned to face his date with a smile.  While looking at her, and taking another sip, he couldn't help but notice how pretty she was and how flush she gets when she thinks she's right!  It would break her heart if the person they were looking for turned out to be me, but she's a trooper, and her job comes first.   Ok, sweetie, other than my jammies, I was bare foot when I went out the door.....Ok?  Just as she was ready to nail him.....he set the hook......no, that's not right......it was a special occasion, I also put on my overcoat!   He could see her heart sink....she was sad for a moment....but then perked right up when she realized she had made a mistake.   She showed Sal and Avery disappointment, but as she turned to Jimmy, she gave that great smile!  Where's mine, she said, looking at the coffee cup.

Sal and Avery were at the open door, 'are  you coming......or moving in.......?  Sandy heard the sarcastic question and didn't like it.   I'm going to finish my coffee, if that's what you mean.........?   Well, we're going, are you coming?   Looking at Jimmy, Oh I think I'll walk tonight!  The two officers banged their way down the wooden stair, like children who got told Santa wasn't coming.  

EXTERIOR, OUTSIDE JIMMY'S BUILDING:

Sal looked at Avery, 'goddamn it, it's going to be a long night!'  They both knew they couldn't leave her with him alone.   After sitting down inside the cruiser,  Avery leaned over...what the hell, we were told to follow her anyway.  We can't tell her, but what the heck?...

Moments later, just as they were about to pull away from the curb, Avery heard something!  Wait Sal, turn off the engine......shhh, listen.  The two of them could hear their names being called!  Avery rolled down the window and stuck his head out, looking up and down the street.  The sound was coming from above!  Sal got out and stood by the open door of the cruiser and looked up.....who the hell is it?  It's that nut Jimmy.  Looking down to the street from his second story window, Jimmy calls out "officers....wait a minute....you have another passenger!"  Sitting on the couch,  Sandy looked confused.  Jimmy looked back at the prettiest girl he had ever seen and said "this isn't right sister, you'd better be getting home".  My date with you is next week and I'm holding you to it!  As she sat her coffee cup on the table, she smiled as she arose from the couch.  But before she could say anything, Jimmy spoke again " it's the couch".  Sandy looked puzzled.  It's the couch, it's so comfortable you don' want to get up; it's how I get all my girl friends...and there, in the corner of his mouth was that smile again.  Just as Sal was coming through the open door, Sandy glanced Jimmy's way, and with a sigh, "you better make lots of money at that new job of yours, cause it's going to cost ya, big fella!  Jimmy's reply "it already has".  And with that she passed Sal as she left the flat.  A pissed Sal tagged along. 

    INTERIOR, JIMMY'S FLAT:

    Jimmy had moved over to the window, and stood between the two faded curtains looking down to the street.  He watched silently as the three of them got back into the cruiser.  He hoped she looked up before getting in the cruiser..........  he held his breath.........just as she bent over to get in the back seat, she glanced up to see if he was watching.  They all had what they needed for the night.  She had her job....... he was pouring sixty year old whiskey into a cold coffee cup........the two donuts could go home to their families for the night, and a little less excitement for the creep in the alley.

to be continued...

 All the best. RJ

STORY ENDING: 

INTERIOR SQUAD ROOM: 

    Sandy staring at the front page of the local rag.  Centered with an opening line "Local Precinct Detective Arrested For Murder!"  She couldn't believe her eyes, there in the black and white photo was Officer Candy sporting handcuffs while being led from a cruiser!  The squad room was full but you could hear a pin drop as all the officers had their own copies of the front page!  The story goes, " Officer Candy, a squad room duty officer was arrested early this morning on a tip from a local transient. Officers couldn't believe it when the tipster, an undercover agent of Internal Affairs, working out of Baton Rouge, Louisiana turned in a two inch thick dossier to local authorities.  The Louisiana, Internal Affairs department had spent months gathering information for their case on Candy, following an aggressive, one man, interstate, internal investigation.  The picture of the "transient" looked suspiciously like Jimmy the Pug!  She almost fell back in her seat as she read on.  She bit her lip as she remembered how the bastard led her on!  That smug idiot, he knew this was my case!  The big one to get me out of this hell hole!  As her eyes cleared, she continued reading as the reporter went on to explain how the undercover cop couldn't have figured it out without the help of a new Detective, Officer Sandy Owens of the same local police district!  "She should be awarded" was the call! 

EXTERIOR-JIMMY'S STREET:  SHE COULD SEE HIS APARTMENT CURTAINS AS SHE PARKED THE LIME GREEN JELLY BEAN ACROSS THE STREET:

Still thinking to herself:  That's right.  Candy transferred from somewhere in the South, with stories of how bad it was there.  How nothing ever got solved.  Well, we're not in Kansas anymore!  She glanced up just in time to see a shadow move away from the open window.  That bastard, he owes me a drink too!  And what the hell is his real name, anyway? 

INTERIOR - JIMMY'S HOTEL BUILDING: 
 

   Just as she arrived at the top rung of the squeaking stairs, she could see Jimmy's apartment room door was open.  She approached the room slowly and cautiously before looking in.  There were two persons standing in the middle of the room whispering to each other.  Then one saw the shadow of Sandy, as it passed across the room as she moved into the hall lighting.  They each turned to her and smiled.  The taller of the two, a cuddly, but rough looking woman asked "are you here to look at the apartment?".  Sandy couldn't believe her ears.  She paused briefly before answering "no, not really, I was looking for Jimmy!"  The taller one spoke again, "who's Jimmy?........were sorry, but Sam left this morning, just as he said he would.  After all sweetie, he only paid for one month!" 

    Shattered, she thanked the two women and slowly walked to the stairs.  She couldn't raise her head to see where she was going.  She held on tight to the loose rail as she slowly placed each foot in front of the other while descending the old stair case.  When she reached the lower landing, she paused for a moment before walking through the open door.  The one that always stuck open when it rained....she thought, "how appropriate, it's raining now!  Her eyes were welling up with tears as she walked into the bright sun light.  She stood motionless on the top stoop, before her eyes adjusted to an early morning hue.  She used her gloves to wipe the history away, and then took one deep breath as she started down the stairs.  She made it to the third step before a red haired, freckle faced, kid handed her a bouquet of flowers, smiled and started to run off.  "Wait....wait she yelled....who gave you these flowers?"  The young kid turned for just a moment and yelled back "some bum leaning on that green car across the street"...pointing to Sam, standing next to her little, green car!  There he was, waving with that great smile.  He ran across the street, "were you been detective, you promised me dinner tonight....remember?"  Damn, I thought I got stood up!  Hell, you look like you been crying, come here sweetie, as he pulled her into his arms and gave her what she wanted....the smell of Aqua Velva............

to be continued.....