Monday, September 02, 2013

Watch Out, Watch Way Out For Two-Timing Dames

 
 
 

From The Pen Of Frank Jackman


Glenn Fallon should have known better, should have realized that going down that road was treacherous. After all he had been down that road before, that what they called the deadly man-trap women road in the old film noir movies he watched incessantly at the Bijou Theater in his Lancaster youth. But would he listen. No. No he had to play out the hand his way. Maybe he thought his small town good looks, his small town good manners and charm would shield him when the going got rough, would protect him when some femme fatale gave him that come hither look. Maybe he just plain thought he was lucky, hell he had survived to manhood and then some hadn’t he. And maybe it was just plain ordinary vanilla hubris that drove him to take up with some women who had hellishness written all over them. Yah, Glenn Fallon should have known better, but let’s get to the details and stop trying to figure out what a guy will do when that come hither look (and that slight whiff of intoxicating perfume) catches him flat-footed. 

 

Like I say Glenn had been down that road before. I should know since he spent a lot of time when I first knew him, knew him after he got back from ‘Nam and he was assigned to my stateside unit at Fort Ord out in California in order to finish out his time before being discharged talking endlessly about that time before the service when he had hooked up with a live one, a real heartbreaker, a what did he call her, yah, a femme, femme fatale. Yah, all he could talk about was Rita, Rita Hayes, and how she had left him so high and dry that when they called his number to go he was ready to face whatever Charlie had to throw at him, big guns, little guns, just to get away, and keep away from her.        

 

Here’s the way he told me the story, although it was a while ago and maybe I have forgotten a point or two but mainly it was like he told it, told it then enough that I thought I was part of it. He had met this Rita down on the Santa Monica Beach near the pier one summer day when she was sunning herself, or whatever femmes do in the daytime. He was there, new to California, without a job, looking out at the ocean which amazed him a boy brought up and bred on the prairies of Kansas and he spied her looking all beautiful, red hair, nice shape, long legs and he thought, what the hell he would take a chance on making a play. As he approached her he noticed she was probably a couple of years older than him but she had this smile, this come hither smile and so that was that. So as guys and dames will do they talked, talked some more, and kind of hit it off, hit it off nicely. And nicely meant that later on they headed for one of the motels that dot the heights above the beach.

 

Just your average boy meets girl story until she lowered the boom. She “forgot” to tell him that she was married, married to some older guy who was a financial speculator who had plenty of dough. The way Glenn found out about her being married was weird. She brought him around to her old hubby, Bart, and without telling Glenn who the old guy was or the old guy who Glenn was she told him to offer him a job, pretty please for Rita offer him a job. Which Bart did and then left the pair. It was only after that episode that Rita told Glenn who Bart was, who had thought the guy was her father, or something. Her idea she said was that with him working for Bart it would keep him around her without too much suspicion. When I heard that statement I blurted out to Glenn that that should have been the signal when he reached for the door. But see she had her hooks into him by then, had them in bad, had him ready to accept any fate just to be around her, her and that come hither look. I have been around dames and their looks enough to know what he meant so I didn’t press the issue. But I could read trouble ahead without him having to say another word.               

 

And that trouble came, came fast and furious, came bad enough for him in the end to face Charlie’ s guns without complaint. For a couple of months Glenn worked hard for Bart, liked the guy and the way he operated (although that like did not keep Glenn from playing around with his wife) and got wrapped up in his financial dealings. It seems that Bart was trying to corner the copper market and thus control the world- wide price and make a killing. That was fair enough, Glenn had no trouble with that although some of Bart’s “partners” in the scheme seemed kind of weird, kind of slimy. That part was okay but Rita was then amping up her own plan (while driving Glenn crazy with all kinds of new, new to farm boy Glenn, and enticing little tricks in bed). Her plan, frankly, involved murder as it usually does with these femmes, although murder dressed up as an accident. And Glenn was the accident-maker, was the guy who was to do the heavy work. I could see where that whole line of talk was leading, how she was just using him to dump hubby and take the dough and run, run with or without Glenn I wasn’t sure but I let him run out his story.             

 

Naturally this “accident” thing should been obvious to the cops when they came to investigate the death of old Bart. He had driven down a ravine too fast they said and having alcohol on his breathe must have maneuvered the wrong way. All they did after a perfunctory investigation was to charge the thing up to faulty brakes and let it go at that. Strangely Glenn had not touched the brakes as that was too obvious but had messed with the steering mechanism which was not even close to the brake system. Nobody even had to show for a coroner’s inquest though.

 

Beautiful, beautiful except old Bart kind of had the last laugh. Two ways. First after the “accident” something soured a little between Glenn and Rita, a little unspoken thing on Rita’s part stemming from the dastardly deed Glenn thought. Second it seems that Bart had put up all his dough in the copper speculation and when he died the whole thing kind of imploded and the price of copper shares went through the floor. That is why Rita was cool to Glenn if you ask me. He was a no dough guy and thus expendable. And he was. One night, one steamy summer night, she tried to shot poor Glenn over some dispute, some nothing dispute. She missed but a couple of days later she was gone, taking everything including some jewelry she had given to Glenn when their love was in bloom. A couple of days after that, after trying to pick up her trail without success he began to realize, realize just a little  that he had been a fool. The next day he enlisted in the Army. Later , when he was over in ‘Nam he would heard from some source that she had married a big time criminal lawyer, rich as hell, up in Frisco. He had chuckled at that, at the gallows’ humor of it, that she had her lawyer already set up in place for her next caper.               

 

Yah, so Glenn had been down that road, had been beaten like a gong as only a woman can do to a guy. I figured after that he had learned his lesson about wild dames and their wanting habits. He said ‘Nam was a piece of cake compared to that and I believed him. We kept in touch for a while after he got out and things seemed to be going his way. He had gone back to small town Kansas, had gotten a good job at a bank, and had a sweet fiancĂ©e, Betsy, a high school sweetheart of sorts, and they were to be married as soon as they had gathered enough money for a little house. Then she came through the door.    

 

Yes, Gloria came sashaying through the door of the bank all blonde, all shape, all flaming red lips, looking, well, looking for trouble except Glenn couldn’t see it. I guess it is okay to speak of it now that the coast is clear, now that Glenn is in parts unknown, or unknown to the coppers. They will never get anything from me since I don’t know where he is, and wouldn’t say if I did. See if a guy takes one tumble with a femme well that’s a rookie error but twice the guy needs help, and not any slammer help that some gun-toting copper would be glad to provide. Besides I am not sure that Glenn did anything wrong, legally wrong anyway although he would not win any prizes from Betsy on that score. Let me lay it out for you, lay out how I pieced most of it together and you figure it out.  

 

Naturally in a small town like Lancaster the femme fatale traffic is going to be light, or that’s what a guy should figure. Those femmes from the sticks are moving to the big city to show their stuff. Well this Gloria seemed to be stuck in Podunk, nobody knew the details why really, and Glenn didn’t have time to fill anybody in. Or want to. That sashaying day at the bank Gloria was looking for a loan, a small loan to get a car she said. Mainly her eyes gave her the loan as Glenn bought her hard luck story and she seemed okay. Of course part of the okay way that she sweet-talked him into meeting her after work for a drink. Maybe he was restless that day, maybe it was the perfume, maybe humankind, or mankind, is incapable of learning a lesson but he went. And they had a drink, a drink or six and you can fill in the details of what Glenn and Gloria did after the bar closed.  

 

And so they saw each other quietly on the sly at her apartment on the outskirts of town, quietly for a couple of months although he had not broken it off with Betsy at that point. Then Gloria’s husband came to town. (Jesus aren’t there any single femmes, or if married just leave guys alone). This guy, a big gruff beefy guy, Biff, who was a big railroad superintendent which explained his absences, had heard that wifey was not on the square. He beat her trying to find out who the lover was. She, finally, coped to a confession after he nearly beat her to death. But see she named a rich older lover, Larry, from Tulsa whom she had left for Biff. One night a few weeks later they found Larry, beaten to death, in a pool of blood in his Tulsa apartment.

 

Gloria freaked out, went crazy when Biff told her what he had done and he then beat her into submission. She would never tell she swore. When Glenn saw her condition he freaked too and that is when she was able to enlist Glenn in her plot to kill her husband. There would be no accident this time, this time it was strictly murder, murder one, and the chair if they got caught. The plan was for Gloria to get Biff drunk, she would take a little beating after she refused his besotted advances and Glenn would come by, grab a convenient gun and shoot him, place the gun in her hand, knock her out and leave. She would claim self-defense and the beating marks would be her alibi. Nice.

But it never got to that, never came close. Something had happened earlier in the evening, Gloria had shot Biff dead herself and had split, leaving no forwarding address. None. Glenn, figuring he would be the fall guy, or close to it, also split with no forwarding address. Except he wrote me later that if I heard anything about Gloria to send her a message that he said hello. Jesus. Jesus, learn something from this tale guys and stay away, far away from two-timing dames even if they have that come hither look or wear that damn fragrance. Enough said.                                

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