{"id":31,"date":"2011-09-30T21:37:55","date_gmt":"2011-09-30T21:37:55","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lightningbugpress.com\/blackhoodpress\/?p=31"},"modified":"2012-01-12T22:57:52","modified_gmt":"2012-01-12T22:57:52","slug":"the-red-headed-ruse","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lightningbugpress.com\/blackhoodpress\/the-red-headed-ruse\/","title":{"rendered":"The Red-Headed Ruse"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a>A Tom Miller, Hollywood Newshawk Adventure<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

I aimed my bucket with all horses blazing towards UBC radio at the corner of Sunset and Vine. Didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t let off the gas until I slammed to a stop. The skid was heard two blocks away. No worries about the cops, though. Because Lt. Hap Underwood, my portly compadre at the L.A.P.D, burned to a stop right behind me.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Breck call you, too?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I queried.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Of course,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Underwood chuckled. He squeezed his extra-wide frame out of his police-issue coupe. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153This is a police matter, too, you know.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

We breezed in through the double glass doors. Tossed a quick wave to the cute little blonde jane behind the desk. Under other circumstances, I wouldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t have minded waiting. But this wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t other circumstances. No need for protocol.<\/p>\n

The horn-rimmed station manager, Herman Breck, was already waiting for us. Puzzled expression and all.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153So, what\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s this unbelievable scoop?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I asked him.<\/p>\n

He sucked in a quick breath. Then exhaled: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve got the \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcmonkey wrench\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 back in my office. Wants to go on the radio and tell his side of the story.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

Underwood and I both did a double-take on that one.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153When did he get here?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I asked.<\/p>\n

Underwood, being the silent type, was more than willing to let me take the lead. He knew I would anyway.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153\u00e2\u20ac\u2122Bout an hour ago. Seems he hitched his way down from Fort Lewis, up in Washington.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

#<\/p>\n

FIRST thing I learned in the newspaper game was you never know which way a story\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s gonna go. Sometimes, you think you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve got it all figured out. Then it takes a wild turn from out of nowhere. And sometimes that wild turn goes bust. And you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re right back where you started.<\/p>\n

My fellow newshounds and I had all been chasing the latest Carmine Calvero story for weeks on end. As you know, Calvero was world famous for his \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Lucky Hobo\u00e2\u20ac\u009d character back in the silent days. Of course, he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d long put away the grease-paint and baggy pants. But that didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t stop him from enjoying his remaining star power. One of his latest conquests was a fiery, red-haired dish named Joanne Benton. They had some laughs. Then he sent her packing, just like all the others. Only this one showed up on his doorstep some months later. Mad as hell, and with a bundle of joy. Not to mention a lawyer.<\/p>\n

The \u00e2\u20ac\u0153monkey wrench\u00e2\u20ac\u009d came in the form of a telegram from a Chaplain up in Washington State. Sent to a judge in Beverly Hills: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Soldier here admits intimacy with Joanne Benton. Believes he is the father.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

Needless to say, this bit of news hit like a thunder storm at a Sunday picnic. Lawyers on both sides went scrambling. One side hoped it was true. The other hoped it wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m sure Calvero got at least one night\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s good sleep from it. With company, no doubt.<\/p>\n

#<\/p>\n

BRECK spilled the whole scenario on the way down the hall: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Kid\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s name is Fred Steinman. Fresh-faced private in Uncle Sam\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s Army. Says he was stationed for a while down here last year. Picked her up in his jeep one night and took her up into the Hollywood hills. The view sent her swooning so hard, she jumped right into his loving arms.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

Underwood popped the question we were both asking: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153So, you think this kid\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s legit?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Talks a good game to me,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Breck shrugged. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153But what do I know?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Sounds fishy to me,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I offered. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153If he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s for real, why go on the radio? Why not just go straight to see the gal?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

Hap nodded in agreement. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153So, what\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re you thinking?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I say we put him to the test.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153How so?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Breck asked.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153He wants to talk to the press. But he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll clam when he sees Hap\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s badge. So, we tell him Hap\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s the Benton quail\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s brother. Then we see what shakes out.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

Hap shook his head in disagreement. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m no good with this play-acting stuff.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Alright then,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I said. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153You be me and I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll be the brother. Just let me ask all the questions.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

We all nodded in agreement. Breck took us back to his office where the kid was stewing.<\/p>\n

My glims lit up like search lights on Hollywood Blvd. when he stood up to greet us. His shadow could cover Mt. Rushmore. He had me by nearly a foot. And I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m a full two yards in my bare feet.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153When do I go on the radio?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Fred asked. He clutched his green army cap in frustration. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153When can I see Joanne?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153In time,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Breck told him calmly. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153But first I want you to meet some people. This is Tom… Benton, Joanne\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s brother.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

I stuck out my mitt. His paw swallowed mine like a vise. I suddenly got worried about the ruse we were playing. Or what he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d do when he found out the truth.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153And,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Breck continued and pointed out Hap. This is uh… Tom Miller, with the L.A. Chronicle<\/em>.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

Breck wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t too good himself with play-acting either. Of course, a few seconds deciding on names wouldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t have hurt.<\/p>\n

Fred gave us both a curious grin. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Both named Tom, huh?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

Not wanting to blow the ruse right out of the gate, I jumped in. Went right to brass tacks.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Why do you want to marry my sister?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I asked.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Because I love her,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d the hulking lug swooned. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t know she was — you know, in the family way \u00e2\u20ac\u02dctill I read about it in the papers. Honest, I didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t! I just felt terrible. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m not the kind of fellah who\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d run out on a gal like that! I want to do right by her. Take care of her. I love her more than any woman in the world.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153So, what\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s your plan?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I asked him.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m gonna ask her to marry me. With your permission, of course.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d He fumbled in his pocket. Pulled out a small ring with a tiny speck for a stone. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll be out of the service, soon. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve already arranged with my sister in Jersey for us to stay with her \u00e2\u20ac\u02dctill we can get a place of our own.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

If nothing else, the kid was sincere. If it was an act, it was an awful good one. And he was in just the right town for it.<\/p>\n

Hap gave me a heartfelt look. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153How about it, Tom?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Okay,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I told him. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153You can meet her for dinner on one condition: Don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t go on the radio.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

The buck private\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s face lit up. He jumped to his pins. Shook my duke like a dirty rug. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Sure thing, Mr. Benton! You have my word!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

Hap and Breck saved their questions until we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d left the office. Well out of earshot.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153How do you plan get this kid together with Joanne Benton?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d they both asked. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153She\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s in the funny farm!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Simple. We hire a ringer.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

#<\/p>\n

I HOPPED back in my jalopy. Took the five minute drive over to Central Casting in the Mayer Bldg. at Hollywood and Western. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d been there enough that I no longer had to show my credentials. Betty Marsden was the smart-looking blonde jane who usually worked the counter. Her smile lit up the room when I walked in. I always wondered what she was doing behind<\/em> it.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Hey, Winchell,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d she asked. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153What\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re you up to this time?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d She knew every time I ankled my way into her portal, it would get interesting.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Need a gal that can pass for Joanne Benton. There\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s two sawbucks in it for her if she plays along.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

Betty dipped her cheaters and raised an eyebrow.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t worry, Doll. It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s strictly on the level. Just a night out for dinner, that\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s all.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

She knew better than to ask any more questions. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153You\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re in luck. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve got just the girl.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

She went through the filing cabinet. Whisked through a drawer of glossies. Seconds later, she plopped one in front of my puss. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Her name\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s Louise Gribble. Ever since the Benton story broke, people are always saying how much Louise looks like her.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

She was right. The gal bore a striking resemblance. Since I was gambling that Fred had only seen the real Joanne in newsprint, she\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d do perfectly. Either way, it would still prove my point.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Tell her to meet me at the Formosa, Five Forty-Five, sharp.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

#<\/p>\n

YOUNG Miss Gribble must have been hungry for work. Or just plain hungry, because she was early. I was glad, because it gave us a few minutes to prepare. I tabbed her as soon as her long stems step off the Red Car. The gaze upwards only improved. Her fiery red hair framed a face that looked even better in color. There was just one problem. Two, actually.<\/p>\n

Everyone knows Calvero was drawn to Joanne Benton\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s ample proportions. But this wren was built like an ironing board.<\/p>\n

I rushed over and scooped her up by the arm. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Louise Gribble?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Before she could answer I whisked her in through the front canopy. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m Tom Miller with the L.A. Chronicle<\/em>. Look, Sweetheart, you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re perfect, but we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve got to make an adjustment.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Sure you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re a reporter? Or a producer?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d She shot back with a smile that made my knees give.<\/p>\n

She was as sharp as she looked. I liked that. Her dark skirt and auburn tresses were a perfect match for the Formosa\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s red-and-black d\u00c3\u00a9cor. The walls are topped with signed photos of every famous mug in Tinsel Town. Her face could have fit with any one of them.<\/p>\n

I breezed her over to the hostess stand. Luckily, the lovely brunette quail was eager to assist. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Listen, Sweetheart, I need a box of tissues, pronto.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I dropped a few bills to show I was in a hurry.<\/p>\n

Another glance at Louise and I decided to up the order. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Make it two.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

The hostess cutie got my message. She replaced my bills with two boxes in seconds flat. I pushed them into Louise\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s dainty mitts.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153No offense, Sweetheart. But we need to fill you out a little. Meet me in the dining car when you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re ready.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

She got the gist and smiled back. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Of course. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll just be in the powder room.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

I tabbed Jim Perry, staff photog, ready and waiting. If Fred turned out to be the real deal, he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d be on the front page of the morning edition. If not, we didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t know what he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d do when he found out we were wise to him. Hap was armed, just in case. That\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s why we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d come there early. Just so there wouldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t be any innocent bystanders.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Right this way, Sir,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d the hostess cutie chirped as she led me past the bar towards the \u00e2\u20ac\u0153dining car\u00e2\u20ac\u009d in the back — a retired trolley from the Red Car line. The rest of the joint was built around it.<\/p>\n

Miss Gribble returned a few minutes later. She looked like a different girl and completely natural. They certainly got my attention. And I knew better. Just in time, too. Because seconds later, Hap and Breck strolled in with our young quarry.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Joanne!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he called out as soon as he lamped her. He reached out for a hug, but she ducked behind my back. His size took her by surprise, too.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Hello, Joanne darling,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he pined, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s so good to see you again.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Hello, Fred,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d she replied nervously. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s lovely to see you again, too.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Her radiant smile calmed him down. He took her hand and went to kiss it. Then chickened out — out of shyness.<\/p>\n

That led to a few long seconds of awkward silence. So, I jumped in to break the ice. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153What do you say we get a picture of you two lovebirds together?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d But what I really wanted was for Fred to get a really<\/em> good look at \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Joanne.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

The \u00e2\u20ac\u0153happy family\u00e2\u20ac\u009d posed while photog Perry snapped a few plates. Fred was still none the wiser. Which was all I needed to see. I gave Hap the nod and tapped Fred on the shoulder.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Fred, let\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s go outside a minute. I need to ask you something. Man to man.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

Fred gave me a big, goofy grin: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Sure.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Breck, you mind staying with Joanne?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I asked. I could tell from the goofy grin on his own face that he didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t.<\/p>\n

We ankled it back out the front portico. I peered back to make sure Hap was right behind me.<\/p>\n

Soon as we got outside, I put it to him. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153What do you want to lie for, Fred?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I asked. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153You\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve never seen this doll before in your life.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

He just shrugged with a red-faced grin: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Wh-why would I lie?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153That\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s what we want to know,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I barked.<\/p>\n

Hap brushed back his coat. Revealed his badge. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153This is serious business, kid,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he said. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Could land you in a lot of hot water.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

Fred dug in his heels like a bull about to charge.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153What are you trying to pull on me here?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he asked.<\/p>\n

He barreled straight past us, back inside. That got us even more scared. Hap reached for his roscoe. We rushed back in, hell bent for leather.<\/p>\n

When we got to the dining car, poor Breck was the only thing between Fred and Louise. I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t know who was more frightened — him or the girl.<\/p>\n

Photog Perry was dutifully grabbing shots. Ready to capture the moment of Breck getting pummeled.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153You know it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s true, don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t you honey? Tell \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcem! Tell \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcem how we loved each other that night in the hills!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

He reached for her with his big paws. But she jerked loose. Ducked behind Hap and his iron equalizer.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Get away from me, you big goof! I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m not Joanne Benton and I never was in the hills with you!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

Fred just stood there. Dumb expression on his map. He\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d been had, but good.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153What are you trying to do? Mix me up?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he shouted back. He was starting to get flustered.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Ix-nay, Fred,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I told him. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Get yourself together. You\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve been putting on a good act. But the show\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s over.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

Fred boiled up like a volcano. Hap had his bean-shooter cranked and ready.<\/p>\n

Fred popped his lid. Bolted straight out the front door. We followed after. Just in time to see him haul it on foot down Santa Monica Blvd. We\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d hoped that was the last we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d ever see of one Private Fred Steinman.<\/p>\n

I gave our \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Joanne,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d the now less vivacious (but still quite lovely) Louise Gribble, an extra ten-spot when I escorted her back to the Red Car.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Thanks, Doll, and sorry about all the drama.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I think next time I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll just stick to work in front of the camera,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d she told me. I couldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t blame her.<\/p>\n

#<\/p>\n

THREE days passed, and there was no sign of Private Fred. I figured he must have found his way back to Washington State. Given up on his dreams of rescuing red-headed damsels. I figured wrong.<\/p>\n

I came into the office early one morning. Plopped down at my desk to fuss over another angle on the Calvero story. That\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s when I heard a familiar voice at the doorway: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I need to talk to a reporter. I got a real scoop for you. On the Joanne Benton story.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

I peered up from my typewriter to see young Fred. He was towering over the desk of stone-gazed Janet Gronchi, our no-nonsense Gal Friday. I always said she\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d be a real cutie if she\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d let down her hair and perked up her disposition.<\/p>\n

Fred had regrouped. Now he was angling for the papers. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I need to talk to someone right away! I tell you, it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s important!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d He barked. Big mistake.<\/p>\n

That was enough to get the attention of our seen-it-all City Editor Hal Jenkins, sitting in his office. He glanced up from his desk; peered out the large windows. Took in the sight of the big palooka looming over our tiny damsel. Now, Jenkins could have jumped in. But he knew it wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t necessary.<\/p>\n

Gronchi rose up out of her chair. Grabbed her quarter-inch thick wooden ruler. Stared Fred down through her horn-rimmed cheaters. No easy feat, as he was more than twice her height. But there\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s not a man nor beast alive that can out-intimidate Gronchi.<\/p>\n

She stuck her ruler right in his face. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153You\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll talk to someone when I tell you to. And not a minute sooner! You got that?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Yes, Ma\u00e2\u20ac\u2122am,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Fred backed off. Tail between his legs.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Now sit down!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s okay, Gronchi,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I piped up. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll jaw with him.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

Soon as Fred\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s optics locked on mine, I could see the light bulb blink on over his head. That\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s<\/em> when he finally realized that I wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Joanne\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s\u00e2\u20ac\u009d brother. That he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d been had. Completely. The volcano was about to blow.<\/p>\n

Of course, it might have been smarter to let Fred tangle with Gronchi. But I was wise enough to ask for back-up.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Better call Hap, Gronchi! Tell him the Private\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s back!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I shouted.<\/p>\n

I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t know who was faster: Gronchi spinning the phone dial; or Fred flying across desks towards me. Papers and typewriters flew in all directions.<\/p>\n

I shoved my desk forward. Caught him in the shins. Just enough to slow him down. But not by much.<\/p>\n

Jenkins shouted from his office: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153What the hell?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

Fred\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s giant fists came at me like two anvils shot out of a cannon. My plan was simple: keep away from those dukes! I usually rely on my own bulk in fights. But not this time. I was the one who had to be quicker.<\/p>\n

Fred swung his left, then his right! Came up empty both times. The desk had done its job. He was big and sloppy. Just as I suspected.<\/p>\n

I ducked on the third, but wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t so lucky. Hit my chin like a freight train! Sent me reeling into the wall! Never had a wallop like that before. Wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t sure what was spinning faster: me or the room!<\/p>\n

Caught a quick glimpse of Gronchi shouting into the squawker. But Fred was back for seconds. Despite my dizziness, I managed to avoid the return of the Steinman Express. Fred hit the wall instead. I swear it shook the building!<\/p>\n

Needed to clear my head. And something<\/em> to even the odds. Jenkins was already on it. Kept a Louiseville Slugger in his office for just such an occasion.<\/p>\n

Fred came at me again. I lunged to avoid his next swing. Jenkins threw me the bat. Shouted for Gronchi to find photog Perry.<\/p>\n

I didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t waste any time. Had to make it good! Went for the kneecap with everything I had. Managed to get a wince. But it wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t enough!<\/p>\n

Next I aimed high. Big mistake! Fred was quicker than I thought. Caught the bat in his right hand! Caught my chin again with his left! Thought it would shatter! Sent me sprawling back towards Gronchi\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s desk.<\/p>\n

Left me seeing double. Tried to stagger to my feet.<\/p>\n

Fred had the upper hand. And the bat! Hap couldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t get there soon enough.<\/p>\n

I looked around. Stab him with a pencil? Hit him with a stapler? The bat was my best weapon. Now he<\/em> had it! And he was about to use it. On me!<\/p>\n

Fred raised up the bat. Was just about to bring it crushing down on my skull!<\/p>\n

That\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s when the cavalry showed up.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Hey!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Gronchi shouted. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t I tell you to sit down?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

My optics widened. So, did Fred\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s.<\/p>\n

Mr. Jenkins wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t the least surprised.<\/p>\n

Gronchi marched up to Fred. Stuck her ruler right up in his kisser.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153You put that bat down right now, Mister!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

Fred\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s button went blank. Color ran right out.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Y-yes, Ma\u00e2\u20ac\u2122am,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he stuttered. Dropped the bat just like he was ordered.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Now you help clean this mess up, and I mean NOW<\/em>!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

That was all the opening I needed. I balled up my dukes. Let him have it with every ounce of juice I had left! Right in the smeller! The little crack told me I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d hit pay dirt.<\/p>\n

Yeah, it was a sucker punch. But I owed him one for tossing me around the room like a rag doll.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Who is this clown?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Gronchi asked. Fred\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s sniffer oozed like a faucet with a really bad leak.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Just a guy who tried to sell a bad story one too many times,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I shot back.<\/p>\n

#<\/p>\n

HAP showed up not too long after with a couple of harness bulls. Plus an Army Lieutenant and a pair of MPs. Just in time to see Gronchi riding herd over Private Fred with tissues stuffed up each nostril.<\/p>\n

She tapped her ruler impatiently as every desk, every typewriter, and every paper was put back in its place.<\/p>\n

Jenkins was already back in his office. He knew better than to get in the way.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153You boys can sit right over there and wait,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Gronchi piped. She pointed to a row of chairs with her ruler. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153You can have him when I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m done. And not a minute sooner.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Yes, Ma\u00e2\u20ac\u2122am,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d the Lieutenant replied.<\/p>\n

Perry snapped another photograph.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

A Tom Miller, Hollywood Newshawk Adventure I aimed my bucket with all horses blazing towards UBC radio at the corner of Sunset and Vine. Didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t let off the gas until I slammed to a stop. The skid was heard two blocks away. […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-31","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-hollywood-newshawk"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lightningbugpress.com\/blackhoodpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/31","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lightningbugpress.com\/blackhoodpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lightningbugpress.com\/blackhoodpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lightningbugpress.com\/blackhoodpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lightningbugpress.com\/blackhoodpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=31"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lightningbugpress.com\/blackhoodpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/31\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lightningbugpress.com\/blackhoodpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=31"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lightningbugpress.com\/blackhoodpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=31"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lightningbugpress.com\/blackhoodpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=31"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}