D & D: "The Great Vino Conspiracy..."

D & D: "The Great VINO Conspiracy"


(...In England, France, Spain, Italy & Germany.)


BE-BOP-A-LOOPA! The "heat" was on. The French went "Escargot!", the Germans: "Mein Gott!" and, "Mein Mutti Gott!?". The English? - "Excuse me. I have a carrot stuck up my arse, but later - after anal surgery - I will consult with the Prime Minister?". The Spanish? -"OLE!"... The now famous "Blamange-Switchblade" killer (outt'a Connecticut) was running amok in Europe giving classic "ugly American tourists" a bad rap.
INTERPOL: "Disturbed."
MI5: "Concerned."
Deutsch Polizei Praedizium: "Schiess!!! Aber? Alles klar Der Amerikaners fix it!"
And so Socio-Politico pressure on...

Don't ask me why/how? The ODD COUPLE, Detective Sergeant Ed Greensleeves with "public over-seer, Private Dick, "D & D" were lassoed with matching black "wheelie-bag" suitcases, round trip TIX, crap exchange U.S. dollar -per Diem expenses, a brief "briefing" and a pat on the back along with: "One of our serious rogues is pissing off the "Cousins"; Wanted dead or Alive. Mostly DEAD. This is "Texas Hold'Em!...Don't let Uncle Sam down. Greensleeves? U get promotion! "D & D"? -We overlook your next FOE-PAHS and don't pull your Private Dick ticket!... Do us proud, boys! Here!
Read the file. Perp's name? "Thelma-Lou". He's a cross-dresser from Brownsville-Texas. You'll recognise him, no problem. His hair parting is on the "wrong" side and his Tex-Mex accent has a limp?..."

2 points of note: Prior to "steerage class" airlines from LAX (Los Angeles), then chateaux "La Guardia", N.Y.C. where D.S. Greensleeves and "D & D" connected; "Yo, sport!" "Fuck off and die young!", then a hand shake, "D & D" took time off to research the "Blamange-Switchblade" killers' background where-as D.S. Greensleeves did NOT; reliant upon European Police colleagues up-to-date reports... Ignominiously, they both squirreled into the FAT BURGER with wings and flew to merry ol' England which, surmised "D & D", the "Blamange-Switchblade dude might find a tad small?

Police Constable Noddy Holder was busy beating up some local "Yobbo es" with his truncheon when introduced to the visiting American law enforcement representatives. D.S. Greensleeves offered to assist, but to no avail: "No problem, Sir." responded D.C. Holder. "Just quietening the LADS down. ..Ambulance on its way...Don't step in the blood."
Courteously, this "Limey"  P.C. gave the "Yanks" a tour of the nearby "Blamange-Switchblade" crime scene. A farmhouse. C.S.I. victim's body lines chalked on stone slab floor. The blamange had long since evaporated/dispersed; black blood stains still prevalent; three VICS. Mom, Pop, and pet dog, a Cairn terrier. And all around the crime scene, the room choc-o-bloc with bottles of home made wine.
Elderberry wine.
Rhubarb wine.
Cherry wine.
Gooseberry wine. All marked by month and labelled. 30 bottles FULL. One, on the kitchen table, two-thirds empty, aside, a used wine glass...
"He killed'em then hit the booze." observed Greensleeves.
"He killed'em...then celebrated!" - surmised "D & D".
P.C. Noddy Holder, alongside, picked up a bottle, smashed it against a wall...and merely took a slug.

Next stop? -Gay Paree! A crime scene, repetitive of merry ol' England. Gendarme Pierre Defarge. "C'est la vie!" He complained - munching on a creme croissant - about the waste of pastry...Blamange? Who knows? "Je mon fou" -he gestured to yet another bloody mess, created by Man: "C'est la monde, mes ami." -But Greensleeves and "D & D" weren't buying it. The crime scene was cluttered with Grand Cru Vin. Expensive Vino Shit!!! Mamma-mia!
Chateaux St. Julian
Baron de Rothschild.
Chateaux Margeaux, etc. Again, the collective booze wasn't trashed (broken in rage?). Only ONE bottle of claret, two-thirds drank...an accompanying glass...
THIS TIME, however? Blamange splatter on a large wall mirror: solidified. And serious evidence!
The " boys were on the fucker's trail.

Gendarme Pierre must have had a wife because prior to zipping down to the Eternal City (Roma) on the "Blamange-Switchblade's trail, the Paparazzi got word and  sniffed out the rotting corpse of a good news story. Which is when - at Charlies de Gaules (Paris) airport - the shit hit the fan! Greensleeves caught one - ironically - in the left sleeve of his jacket; "D & D"? -Solar-Plexus: Wheelchair City 'till the next Mardi Gras: Absolutely NO aerobics!!! ...Greensleeves was devastated, remorseful, feeling he'd failed to protect his "partner". "D & D" - philosophically - HALF devastated (until further-temporary paralysis notice), and the PAPS (Paparazzi) who, initially had labelled them as "Dumb & Dumber" now hailed them as "Alias Smith & Jones"...?
...Like the Fat and the Lean, "D & D" got the glitz; celebrity starlets flooded his hospital suite, press photos, gift packages from little ol' ladies from Pasadena/Clichy, free booze up the Wazoo...whilst Detective Sergeant Greensleeves wandered the cobbled streets of a Paris that Brunei had photographed decades before; friendless, and Jack Daniels.

"D & D", protesting humility, immodesty and pleading a night off from the celebrity glare stipulated to the PAPS that the following Friday night would be his "nighty-nite, peace and quiet, quality time-mantra night evening? NO Paps. NO T.V. interviews. NO surprise Starlets with bouquets and eternal free sex! Nutt'in!!!
Greensleeves, pounding the beat read the press and took the hint!
...2 weeks "in dock" (hospitalized), the Paris Gendarmerie were otherwise righteously diverted with Civil Strife and Terrorist threats at Charles de Gaule airport and Maxim es restaurant, both! ERGO, "D & D" felt and WAS consciously exposed... In Los Angeles, fan mail - for "D & D"? - was UN-heard of. "D & D" however, even half paralyzed, was still a Gumshoe. He sifted through the bric-a-brac of adulation. One fan caught his eye. And he had an inkling the son-of-a-bitch might do a Cameo?

"Lucky bastard!" -mused Greensleeves.
"Lucky me got You, Ed." - "D & D."
"How'd U guess?"
"Hit the books!" - "D & D" coughed. "Hit da books before we left Gotham!"
"Wha?
"Bubba-Blamange lost his shirt in Napa Valley, North California wine country. Pinko, too. His boyfriend committed suicide.  Must a been a bad Vintage. As for victims? Who knows. Wine aficionados? Maybe he got'em off Facebook? Who cares..."
"The Blamange?" -asked Ed.
"Creme de la creme, Ed. Ritual crappola. Beats me;" -adding, "Did U see the creeps future VIC list in his notebook?"
"Nope?" -replied Ed. "I must'a missed that whilst I was bludgeoning him to death in pursuit of saving your life!"
"Right. I owe U one. He came pretty close with that switchblade."
"Didn't get U with the Blamange though?"
Raising a Gran Cru Chateaux Margeaux, "D & D" said: "There's that!"




c 2016/davedelacroix