This is very much a work-in-progress. I have never written fiction before and might get a bit carried away by the freedom.
Part One can be found here.
Still several days after Princess Diana’s wedding
The detectives followed Marly into the large rounded shades of yellow living/dining/kitchen with eleven mostly giant leaded glass bay windows that overlooked the Hudson River. Before she and Jesse began the renovation they found it unlikely that they would find an architect who understood their vision. Really Marly’s, Jesse would be happy in living in a hotel room. So would Marley if it was a large suite she could decorate herself on the hotel’s dime
The detectives admired the brightly colored Pink Flamingo with a shiny black background over-stuffed couch, the burgundy velvet heart shaped love seat. They were amused by the wooden butler holding a glass tray, the wooden maid holding a large glass ashtray, and more.
Nothing looked like it should belong together yet everything did. The detectives even found it funny that the wedding decorations seemed to belong. They had never seen such a huge fridge or eight burner made to specs Aga stove, imported from England. Marly loved her lair. She only wished that it was a duplex with a full set of stairs they could bleach white.
Marly finally remembered to ask to see their shields. The detectives were from Northeast Queens, which was appropriate as the Allied Security robbery had taken place in the small Korvette’s shopping center. She actually dialed information and asked for the phone number of their precinct. Yes they were legitimate.
“Uh, would you like something to drink?”
“What do you have?”
The fat fat one wanted Marly’s homemade lemonade with grenadine. The skinny fat one wanted plain ice tea with sugar, “just one tablespoon, please.”
This is what you do when the cops come a calling? Sit around while drinking lemonade and ice tea? Marly had no idea what the protocol was supposed to be.
Everybody had a cigarette taken from the silver cigarette case, not the joint case she had discretely placed in a built in Neutra type drawer in the kitchen while they had been admiring more of her photography. Fortunately there had been no roaches in the Lalique frosted blue ashtray that was on top of the huge black lacquered coffee table.
Marly was so discombobulated she almost expected to go into her hostess riff on the Neutra homes in California and how they had influenced her more than Frank Lloyd Wright but she still liked the warmth of velvet yet was a minimalist at heart. She could go for hours about her dwelling and sensed that the policemen would love to hear about it. They were there for a reason, however.
“How long have you known Lois George?”
“Freshman year of college. Thirteen years ago”
“Do you believe that you know her well?”
“As well as you know anybody, you’re don’t share a room or are intimate with, I guess. Do I need a lawyer? I have never had detectives over before.”
She wished Jesse was home or that she had begged Dinah to come over. They would know what to do. Jesse had actual police experience though with something much less serious, and Dinah always knew what to do. Marly always found that strange as Dinah was the most sheltered of all their friends. Victoria, the Jeopardy champ and champion moocher might really be good at this as she never gave a straight answer. Jesse was always telling Marly that she was the only too honest person he knew.
There was nothing that Marly could rat Lois out about. Still anything could be construed wrong. Marly didn’t have to worry. The change in the Rockefeller Laws had ensured that pot smoked at home was virtually legal, and she truly didn’t know about Lois’s present day life.
While she knew more than was good for her about Lois’s past, she only knew the drug side, not the radical side. It was the 80’s not the 60’s. She had never called a cop a pig nor had most of her friends. The rest smoke with cops now or went to cop and firemen bar’s as they had the best pool tables in New York.
She loved hanging at the Moose Lounge, with pictures of the Honeymooner’s, Jackie Gleason, Art Carney and the wives. They even had sculptures of Kramden making a bus driver motion and Norton, in sewer regalia on the top of the two story building in the West 70’s. Upstairs was a bowling alley.
It was dark, and danky looking, smoke, cheap wine and beer permeated the premises but it was a fun place to go on Monday nights when they played do wop music and had 50’s dance night. Everybody went. Though Marly couldn’t imagine Lois doing something so frivolous. She had been plenty frivolous their freshman and sophomore years at Long Point Hills University.
Marly couldn’t imagine Lois using a gun on a cop, or being involved with a group, The Army for the advancement of Mankind, that had blown up at least one building.
Lois had been her friend for so long, she had to know her well. But then again her friends couldn’t figure out why they were basically supporting Victoria.
Marly couldn’t imagine anybody she knew being violent. She decided she was just going to say positive wonderful things about Lois.
Still she couldn’t help but wonder if the detectives were playing her. She should call somebody. She shouldn’t have let them into her house. Damn she needed somebody to come in now or call.
They were too nice. Detectives in movies and TV were only nice to people that they wanted to break. Did they want her to break? Did they notice how fast she was talking? What did they know about her anyway? Oh, she was a New Yorker and supposed to talk fast/ Marly quickly came out of her day/nightmare.
Both the fat fat one and the thin fat one laughed after she asked if she needed a lawyer . The later said:
“You? You’re very nice. You couldn’t be guilty of walking over a flea?”
Was this some two nice cops tactics? Marly knew about Lois and drugs. Lois had lived with a big time dealer in college who wanted to be a history professor, and was assuring his future as he wanted to live better than a university professor. When they broke up, she had drifted to “Students for a peaceful Society,” (SPS). They were more radical than Marly and the rest of her friends.
Marly realized that she truly didn’t know. She hadn’t even known that Lois was back from California. Maybe she knew more than she had thought about Lois’s life. The questioning though so innocent seeming might be good fodder for the cop’s background information.
Just repeat “Lois is very nice. Lois was always a great friend.” “Lois….” She didn’t know if she could
The rest of the story will be in my novel. The rest of the interview is pivotal to the plot.
I know exactly where I’m going with this. It was hard to write because the plasterer was drilling for hours in my apartment and I fell into a mediative state writing the apartment detail. If there’s too much–this isn’t edited.
I was writing under extreme duress. My biggest fear is turning into the late Adrienne Shelly who was murdered because of noise. The film she wrote directed and acted in was a sleeper hit at Sundance. That hurts. Actually I took out some of the detail. That’s my right as a blogger.
I can do anything I want to, to one of my posts. The one thing that I would never do is change a post to make a commenter look stupid. That was done to me too frequently before I learned never to comment on some blogs, and how to screen shot.
I forgot to mention the person who supplied the words and won’t until there is a screenname change.
Matthew Cooper confirmed that Libby identified Valerie Plame but only after he originally got it from Rove. I’m only human. It does feel good that something I always knew was confirmed. I did pick Rove as my personal Bush & company enemy because of his “liberals want therapy…” remark made in a city of liberals. He seemed to have not understood that this liberal city was attacked and almost everybody wanted and might still want Bin Laden arrested and given a fair hearing.
It’s a new world now, or USA, and many people will have to get used to it. I won’t cheapen myself to say all the things that was said to me.
Too many people in the radical right delighted and still delight in hitting under the belt. I don’t get why. They should understand that the majority of the American people are not on their side and never will be.
I don’t usually agree with Maureen Dowd on the subject of women but almost always do on politics. Here they intersect, and I so agree. Hilary Clinton is a coward who was never exactly Senator from NY as she began to campaign for the presidency before she was elected Senator. Many or probably most of the people she represents have always opposed the war in Iraq. She voted for it, and can never take that vote back. She pandered to the residents of upstate to fit some sort of image she wanted for herself, even after 9/11. We didn’t get the promised aid for three years. She should have been screaming publicly but didn’t want to dirty her image. I used to respect her very much and would have loved to have seen her as president but that was before.
I do support the troops and want them home. Today is Move-on’s virtual march against esclating the war. Please participate
I use Wikipedia only for things I know to be facts. I never used to use it at all. That might change.