The 1960’s were a historic era of cultural and political upheaval worldwide, and Los Angeles along with San Francisco were at the west coast epicenters. The 1970s amped the Vibe; from the grit of L.A, and glitz of Hollywood, to the sunny beach-lined communities north and south of the Los Angeles International Airport.
There was a thriving evolution of new ways to live, to expand one’s mind, and new ways to do business. And one of the rising big businesses was within the Drug Culture. The times were ripe for anyone to grab the reins and take hold of whatever they could. All ideas, trends, and concepts if not new, were brought forward from the past to be celebrated. With these near daily new enterprises and concepts came great ideas implemented for the good and some for the bad.
William Trent, a young private investigator, maintains his office and living space above the garages of an adjacent apartment building in the “Ghost Town” area of Venice, California. The rickety, but sturdy stairs to Will’s office were open for anyone who needed his services.
Will was experienced in both deductive reasoning and altered states of consciousness. He had taken nearly every drug, hallucinogen, and psychotropic known, and used those experience’s benefits to become successful enough to hold down his own one man investigation business.
There was much to be said for certain stoners’ abilities to use their clouded stoned appearance to actually gain detailed insight on those who momentarily let their guard down due to thinking that they were dealing with just another stoned Hippie.
Tonight’s 1976 Episode: “Narcs”
Will was at his local market, “The Grateful Food Store” getting some essentials and groceries for the week. This was a real mom and pop store owned and run by a local as couple. Will preferred his local businesses to the corporation and franchise businesses; as it supported the community while contributed just that much less to the big guys.
Will wasn’t much of a cook, at all, the time taken for preparation of a meal troubled him, it seemed like a lot of precious time spent just to be quickly consumed. Will’s staples were a scrumptious meal of cold cereal and toast with a glass of OJ, and coffee, or a slapped-together sandwich; otherwise, it was on-the-go take-out or fast food, but rarely a restaurant unless with a friend, or client – again too much wasted time.
On his way into the store, Will’s noticed a narc or undercover car parked across the street, this was Venice so it was not uncommon to see them cruising about, hoping to bust some kid with a joint, while real crimes were taking place.
Will made his humble purchases and left the store by the back entrance, he had felt a bad vibe coming from the narcs. He set his two bags of groceries down and peeked around the corner of the building, the car was still there; if it was a stakeout, Will was puzzled, who or what was going down? Or was this just downtime for narcs.
The bad vibe was a natural coming from them, so Will walked back home and placed his thoughts on a case he was considering while diving into breakfast. He liked to mix two or three different cereals to create a connoisseur’s cornucopia of rice, oats, and wheat, with raisins, if bran was included.
While eating spoonfuls of his crunchy milk-accented meal, he read up on the particulars of the new case when that damn narc car kept creeping into his thoughts. Will knew that if he couldn’t shake the vibe then it was probably something he needed to investigate.
He walked back to the store but on the same side of the street where the narc car was still parked. As he approached, his eyes concealed behind dark sunglasses, he could make out two men, both with sunglasses on, and of course, in what they considered “plainclothes”, which usually meant that they stood out just like the non-descript plain medium gray car that screamed “Narc!”
Will knew, or knew of, most of the local cops and narcotics officers, these two were not locals, maybe recruits from downtown, or maybe not real narcs.
Will passed by the car and wondered what was so interesting about the store, as that was what the two men kept eyeing. He kept walking then stopped at the corner and decided to end the mystery as he had work to do. So, he turned around and walked back and tapped on their window. As the window rolled down the man riding shotgun asked in a condescending tone what Will wanted.
Will introduced himself as a private investigator on a case and asked if they were both on the same case.
This took the men by surprise thinking they were incognito and they also showed signs of guilt – guilt for impersonating. If they were real cops they’d have recognized Will, or at least his name, but they didn’t. Will could nearly smell the criminality of these two but kept up the ruse.
Will: “Hey, maybe if we compare notes, we can close this case.”
Shotgun: “We don’t work with private dicks.” And then he rolled up his window.
Will felt he heard and saw all he needed to know and walked straight across the street and into the grocery store – he knew this would get the “narc’s” attention.
From the large front window Will made sure that once he had the owner’s attention he pointed at the narcs through the window so as to inform the owners of their “narc stakeout”.
Seeing their cover blown the narc car started up and drove away.
After brief questioning, the owners showed no concern, but when Will asked if they knew any reason for the cop’s interest, they both declined to answer.
Will intuitively knew that it wasn’t them that the narcs were interested in but a family member or friend, possibly an employee – that was who the owners were protecting.
Will had a potential paying client in the wings and really didn’t need to get into a non-paying side situation but the vibe he got from the narcs was sinister, and that made it a mystery Will couldn’t resist. So he crossed the street and entered the Bikini Bar, ordered a cup of Irish coffee, and sat by the dark-tinted window and watched the store.
It was nearly dark when he saw a young man enter the store; the fact that the young man made a feeble attempt to scan the area before entering was Will’s cue.
Will crossed the street, entered the store, and saw the man, an employee, enter the back room.
Will caught the eye of the owners and pointed to the back, they knew of Will’s good reputation and nodded in agreement. Will continued to the back room.
As he approached the man, who was obviously nervous, he explained who he was and asked him his name, the young man’s name was John Turley.
Will: “Why are you being “observed”.
John, very hesitant: “I’m not supposed to tell anyone, especially the cops.”
Will: “I’m not a cop.”
John hesistates.
Will: “Look, I do this for a living, investigate, I can see you’re in a lot of stress, I can help.”
John, a little relieved: “I used to work as an assistant to a public figure . . . not from L.A., San Francisco . . . Myles Mahoney . . . a do gooder, bad guy. I guess I saw things I shouldn’t have, I made myself scarce, left to L.A. with my daughter and moved to Venice and got this job here. Things were good for about a year . . . but they found me, and have my daughter, and if I don’t do as they say . . .”
Will, losing interest in his pending case, and building resentment in evil: “What do they want of you?”
John: “They think I have something, something very valuable to Mahoney, but I don’t, but they don’t believe me.”
Will: “What do they think you have?”
John: “I really don’t know, I was only put in the position as a temporary glorified gofer, but it lasted longer, and as time passed I knew that there were shady goings-on but just kept doing my job.”
Will: “And what was your job for this Mahoney?”
John: “Menial stuff, assistant stuff; picking up lunch, making calls, just daily, stuff. But things grew to be tense, something was up.”
Will: “Like what?”
John: “Mahoney was a typical lying conniving politician, only he wasn’t, he was the head of operations for a company called Domino Enterprises, they provided security for events, concerts, conventions. And there was this one night, I was working late so that the next day I could have the whole day off with my daughter and I had one last thing to do and that was to file some papers, which I did, and as I was leaving once I hit the street there was someone following me. When I got into my car the man closed in with a gun and said, “Give it to me!”
Will, intrigued: “And?”
John: “I punched it, and got out of there, packed and left town with my daughter.”
Will: “You must have something, or . . .“
Will gets a thought: “Was one of your job requirements to physically take out the trash?”
John: “Sure, in fact I did . . . late . . . that night.”
Will sees John’s mind connecting dots and realizing something innocent but dangerous.
John: “Shit, no, no . . ?”
Will: “What is it?”
John: “The trash, before I dumped it, I felt something heavy hit the side of the trash can, I reached down and pulled up a rock, but when I turned it over it was one of those rocks that have crystals inside, I wouldn’t have noticed if I hadn’t turned it over. A lot of people pass through, tossing a rock in a trash can, while odd, was not that odd . . . so I pocketed it, and gave it to my daughter – is that what they want?”
This is what Will likes about mysteries, the series of reveals that only lead to another mystery, but as each is solved, or level of understanding is achieved, the closer to solving the main mystery.
Will: “Where is this rock?”
John: “Back at my place, but they’ve already been through it, it’s gone, but they still think I have it, and what if I did have it, maybe it’s not even what they’re after!’
Will is perplexed, no clues as to the rock’s whereabouts or where John’s daughter was held, and Mahoney, who really needs what he thinks John’s got.
Will ponders on that last thought, what could Mahoney want? Incriminating evidence is always the first thing evil wants to get rid of.
Will: “Was there anything odd or different about the rock other than the crystals inside?”
John: “Just that it had a dark crimson sunburst on the backside, the rock was a dark color so it wasn’t easy to see, just rock striations, Why?”
Will: “Man, I really hate to tell you this, but what you describe sounds like dried blood splatter on a murder weapon.”
John looks horrified.
Will saw another reveal get closer to the truth; Mahoney or someone close to him used the rock to bash in someone’s skull. And John inadvertently had it with him the whole time.
Will: “If you don’t have it and they didn’t find it at your place . . “
John, dismayed: “My daughter has it.”
Will sees John start to lose it: “Listen, look at me, the best way we can help your daughter is to unlock your memory.”
John: “Wha…?”
Will: “It’s been proven that the brain, mind, higher self has every moment of anyone’s life logged and ready to be retrieved. If a penny drops out of your pocket to the ground you may have not heard, felt, or noticed, but it registered; the memory of it hitting keys as it came up out of the pocket, came free, and fell to the ground with the dullest plink – it’s all there, every second, every moment.”
John: “If you say so.”
Will: “I do. Now I want you to take this.”
Will pulls a cigarette case out of his pocket opens it and takes out a pill and hands to John.
John: “What’s this, what’s this gonna do?”
Will: “You want your daughter back?”
John knowing he has no one other than Will, swallows the pill.
Will: “This is gonna be fast acting. Ever taken psychedelics before?”
John looks wide-eyed at Will.
Will: “I’ll take that as a no.”
Will: “I’m going to need you to concentrate on the last time you saw your daughter, what she was wearing, what she had with her, a purse or bag maybe?”
Will sees John coming on and trying to process the information: “She had jeans, a pink short-sleeved shirt, and yes, she had her Wonder Woman bag.”
Will realizes that anything in the bag would have been searched – and if it was found there would be no need for all of this, which meant it wasn’t in her bag.
Will: “OK, now I want you to think where else the rock could be, could your daughter have given it to someone, a friend maybe, or for fun hid it like treasure?”
John was definitely feeling this new world he was experiencing and Will had to keep him on track. Will begins to get him to focus when . .
John: “Wait, I think I might know where it might be, she really likes the Wonder Woman TV series, we made her a costume and she always had it hid until she wanted to dress up so that the “bad guys” wouldn’t get her costume. I never knew where she hid it, and possibly wasn’t uncovered when they searched the house – the rock could be with it.”
Will: “Great, a lead, good job, let’s go!”
They drive to John‘s place just a few blocks away from the grocery store.
As they slowly approach the corner Will notices a back alley and at the stop sees the narc car parked down the street, waiting. To not look suspicious Will drove on across the street and made a series of right turns to come back to the alley, turned left and saw that the back of the John’s place was not covered.
Will sighs: “This is going to be tougher with Mahoney’s monkeys. Once we get inside you stay out of view at a window and let me know if they move, I’ll search.”
John: ”I’m, I’m . . .”
Will: “Look at me , listen, just remind yourself it’s only the drug, you’ve done great so far, just stay focused and we’ll get your daughter back, OK?”
John seems to have a grip and vows to stay focused.
Once inside John stays by the front window monitoring the narcs.
Will begins the deep search, the kid search, the place that as a kid would not only be a great hiding place from “the bad guys” but from parents or siblings.
The easiest hide-in-plain-sight is the false bottom to any decent-sized drawer. Will had a couple of those back at his place. A thorough search of dresser drawers and desk drawers was fruitless. But what about a false bottom trash can. Will picked the can with Wonder Woman stickers on it up off the ground where its contents had been spilled, and reached to the bottom, it was too short of depth, and heavy, for an empty can. He saw the false bottom but it was vacuum-sealed against the sides. He took out his knife and lightly pried the side releasing the air and the false bottom slid out with the skimpy Wonder Woman costume and the rock.
As Will turned to go get John and tell him the good news, the two narcs blocked the door of the room.
Shotgun Narc, in soured surprised voice: “It’s you. This is one case that you’re gonna lose.”
Will: “Where’s the girl’s father?”
Shotgun Narc: “He’s out of it, just like you’re going to be.”
Will: ‘Whoa, guys, we’ve got what you want, why not return the girl and all’s forgotten?” “Whaddya say?”
Shotgun Narc: “We have orders that don’t include negotiating.”
It was about then that Will was glad he downed a pill too, a pill mixed and pressed personally that he had been coming on to all along, but since he was the master of himself, he knew how to control the psychedelic power that was energizing him by the minute, now by the second.
Will: “That’s too bad, Mahoney should trust you guys to have some control of the situation, ‘cuz that way you wouldn’t have to end up in the hospital, or underground, I don’t know which, yet.”
Mahoney’s monkeys look at each other and laugh.
Will casually picked up a Frisbee from the little girl’s table, spun it on one finger, and when he knew he had both pair of eyes on the disc, grabbed it and hurled it full force into Shotgun Narc’s throat. Then using the misdirect of the Driver Narc looking at Shot Gun in disbelief, Will kicked the Driver Narc in the solar plexus, immediately knocking the breath out of him, hitting his head against the wall, then sliding down the wall, unconscious.
Will then immediately did a leg sweep taking a choking Shotgun Narc to the ground, then grabbed a pogo stick that was leaning up against the wall and held it in a menacing position aimed for Shotgun’s throat.
Will: “Where is she, or it is over for you, and I’ll just get it out of him when he comes to and sees this pogo stick where your Adam’s apple used to be.”
Shotgun, still choking: “OK . . OK . . I . . think you damaged my . . .
Will: “Then choose your words carefully.”
Shotgun, wheezing: “She’s in the trunk.”
Will, motions for the keys.
Shotgun, holding his throat, points to the Driver.
Will, wielding the pogo stick like the deadly weapon it could be. Reaches in the unconscious Driver’s pocket and pulls out the keys.
Just as Will stands up, still keeping Shotgun at bay, the Driver Narc comes to and pulls a gun on Will.
He’s just about to shoot when a wild and crazy psychedelic John bursts into the room and dives at the Driver Narc, a bullet fires wildly and misses John as he plows into the Driver Narc sending him back to the ground, hitting his head once again against the wall, and unconscious again.
John wrests the gun from the limp hand of the Driver Narc and points it at him, and then over at the Shotgun Narc, then back again at the the Driver Narc.
Will, smiling looks to John: “Here, give me the gun.“
Will hands him the car keys: ”Your girl’s in the trunk.”
John smiles back, and then nods to Will for his approval, Will knew and couldn’t agree more.
John went over and kicked them both in the head, real good, creating possible brain damage – just a little last bit of satisfaction for what they had put his daughter though. Then he ran out to get her.
The “narcs” were arrested on kidnapping and impersonating officers, among other charges, the rock was the missing murder weapon involving a case against Mahoney, John and his daughter were under protective custody and fell within the newly formed Witness Protection Act of 1970.
It had been a good day, a very good day, and in many ways Will felt really good.
This was better than a paid in cash case, for it was priceless.
Copyright 2019 00individual TLL
Written spontaneously over a few hours during July 25, 26, 27, 2019 with only The Stoned Private Eye, the 1970s, Narcs, and a Noir Vibe as inspiration.
THE STONED PRIVATE EYE 