Ok, ok, I understand if you don’t want to get too involved in this one: I found a couple old stories I started where I tried to picture them as movies; I even had actors in mind as I made them up: If you’re interested, check ’em out (there’s only 2, so this won’t be a long series)
****Please keep in mind, I was in Jr. High when I wrote these. ( I Promise: Good stuff is coming!)
Plot synopsis: Two aging cops keep finding links to crimes related to the movies of Sean Connery. No, I’m serious. Our two leading characters were to be played by:
Lloyd Bridges: (you’ll know who they were to play as I named the main characters after them)
Academy Award Night: Two veteran cops ,Gene Simms and Lloyd Pacino, no relation to Al, were listening on the radio to the announcements.
“And the winner is……Sean Connery, the Untouchables.”
They hear a lot of cheering and screaming. It continues for a couple more seconds then starts to die down.
“I’d like , first of all, to thank…….blah, blah, blah, blah, blah blah blah blah blah….I never knew so many talented people could work together without getting someone killed, I mean in reality….”
After the show was over, they patrolled the streets of Hollywood, California like they did every other night. Seeing all the bums and druggies and prostitutes, only being able to arrest so many of them.
“How can you sit there and tell me that DeNiro isn’t charismatic? Did you even see Taxi Driver, for god’s sakes. He said the famous line,” Then Gene went on mimicking in his best DeNiro voice. “Are you talking to me?” He chants time and time again. “The man was a god damn drug addict. Half the things he said he never knew about because he was stoned.”
As Gene was about to contradict, the police ban screamed on.
“We have a 10-9er on 122 Wilshire and Santa Monica at….Holy Shit! Sean Connery’s Condo!”
“Hot damn, we’ve got a live one!” Lloyd was practically giddy, as he slammed his light on the hood of the car.
“Look up 10-9 in the book, would you?” Gene said perfectly calm, as you could see his wrinkles fold up like an accordion.
“We’ve been in this business 30 years and you don’t know what a 10-9 is?”
“Then what is it?
“It’s kidnapping, I think.” Gene laughed as Lloyd embarrassingly looked up a 10-9.
“We’ve got breaking and entering at Virgil’s condo.”
As they arrived on the scene, a suspect was already apprehended and cuffed.
“Was this him?”
“Yeah, his prints are all over the place, including the Oscar. It looks like he massaged the damn thing.”
Gene and Lloyd casually walked inside and didn’t expect to see paintings and statues all over. Their faces showed it.
“Well, gentlemen, don’t believe your eyes?”
It was Sean Connery himself.
“No, no, we saw Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous, just never in person.” Gene said trying to make him laugh and erase the stoic look off his face.
“Have you met many stars yet?”
“We’ve been around for 30 years and this is the 2nd time we’ve answered a breaking and entering call to a movie star.”
“Oh yeah, what was the first?”
“Bill Murray thought someone was trying to break in his house, but he forget he couldn’t find his cat.”
“Well, I hope you officers have a nice….”
BANG! BANG! BANG! They heard screaming and hollering as someone yelled “Officer Down!”
They both unholstered their guns and went outside.
“The prisoner picked the lock with some brass pin he had, stole a revolver, shot an officer and tore through the back lawn.”
That was all Gene needed to hear as he took off in the direction the prisoner did, with Lloyd in tow. They got around back when they saw him rip through a patch of bushes into the next yard. They ran around the pool and followed his exact path, as fast as they could go. The only light in the next yard was a dimming porch light. Suddenly, a small noise was made at the far end of the lawn as Gene over zealously ran after it. Lloyd, the more cautious of the pair, eased his way across the dew infested terrain when the guy coughed.
Lloyd whipped around to the left where he had heard the noise, but not soon enough. The guy fired one right into his bicep, which only made him flinch. This gave him time to blast two off, which luckily painted the guy’s chest blood red.
Gene came back with other officers and asked Lloyd if he was okay.
“Everything but my arm.”
They checked the body and surprisingly enough, he was still breathing. At least, trying to, but he had a terrible cough. He was stable enough to move into an ambulance and he finally died seconds later.
“I’m too old for this shit!” “I’m retiring!” And he did, with Gene following a few months later.
March 25, 1996: 9 years later
Academy Award night: Two 2nd generation cops, Jason Simms and Ricky Pacino, no relation to Al, were listening to the prestigious awards on the scanner.
“Tomorrow’s Dad’s birthday party. It’s going to be a surprise, so tell Lloyd not to tell>”
“He won’t say anything.”
The scanner beeped on and called for a murder and two detectives were needed. On the way over there, Jason started a conversation: “I think Sandra Bullock is by far, the most beautiful woman on T.V.” “What are you taking? Sharon Stone is older, but looks younger and she’s a knockout. Plus, she has a lot of experience.”
“She is a 6-figure slut who says she has reformed, like she’s some damn drug addict. To me, she acts guilty.”
“On the other hand, Sandra is sweet, intelligent, and has to be nicer than Santa Claus. She’s the beauty queen of film, in my book.”
Finally, they arrived at the scene of the crime. The lot was empty on a secluded street with only a few street lights on and a dog was continuously barking.
“Looks like we’re the first ones here,” said Ricky, trying to calm the mood which was extremely tense. They started up the walkway.
“You on the right, I’m going to the corner edge, just out of sight of that east window.” Ricky instructed pointing his finger at the clean 8-panel glass window, about a half a story up from their position on the moist front lawn.
“On three, 1…..2…..3~!”
Jason crashes through the door with his gun high in the air. Ricky follows in close behind, making sure the outside was cool. Ricky creeped around near the back room as Jason stumbled upon a man, looked like he was 30 years old or so, lying face down on a desk with the back of his head blown through.
“Rick, Rick, get in here!” “Rick?”
He heard a dish break in the kitchen as he ran in their faced with a man whose face he couldn’t see and RIck, who he thought as Rick, but it was pitch black. He was on the floor with a gun to his head. He heard a muffled voice and it sounded like there was tape over his mouth.
“Rick, stay cool. What do you want? Huh? Tell me and you’ve got it. Just don’t kill him.”
He started speaking. “Fuck you, pig. In 3 seconds, I’m going to shoot you. Then, when you’re dead, I’m going to shoot him. Okay, ready, here we go.”
1……… “You don’t have to do this.”
2………”I don’t want to shoot you, but I will.”
Jason shot the guy standing and he fell to the ground. Then, the man on the floor said “I’m at 3!”
BANG! BANG! BANG!
March 26, the next day: Gene’s birthday party
“Okay, who wants some more cake?”
“Me, me, me,” screamed all the kids.
Gene and Lloyd and Glen Tumey, the police chief were all laughing and telling stories.
“Remember the time when Bill Murray thought a burglar was trying to break in, and it was his damn cat.”
All three men burst out laughing, but it stopped because Tumey’s beeper went off.
“I told them I was taking a day off.”
“Must be the station,” Lloyd whispered to Gene and got his reassurance by a nod. Tumey picked up the phone and turned around with a shocked look and said “Gene, it’s for you.”
“For me? Tell them I’m married, so don’t send a stripper over here. At least, not until after 11:00 pm.”
“I heard that” shouted Kathy from the kitchen, still serving cake.
“It was Lloyd.”
He grabbed the phone from Tumey and said in his deep, raspy voice, “Hello”
Lloyd shouted “Say hi to the boys for me, would ya?” He then saw that the remark was ill-timed as Gene hung up the phone with a morbid expression on his face. “Kathy!!!!”
They held the funeral at a nice church where both Jason and Ricky regularly attended. The service started shortly after 2:00 pm. The preacher began by saying how long he’s known them and their scholastic accolades. He mentioned how they are honoring their respective fathers by going into law enforcement.
After the funeral, Gene saw Lloyd talking to Glen. He didn’t know what they were saying, so he went over to them.
“If you don’t let me in, I’m going to expose you and the incident at 34th Street,” Lloyd was now screaming at him.
“What’s this all about?” Gene said with a concerned look on his face.
“Lloyd wants to come out of retirement and be assigned to this investigation,” said Tumey in disgust.
“You’re crazy. You’re fifty years old and you’re arm will never be the same.”
“Before this gets ugly,” said Tumey, “I want to show yo something. You’ll have to come down to the station.”
Tumey watched as Gene and Lloyd ambled off to quickly drive their families home.
They got there at a quarter till 4, which is good time considering the 30-minute drives from their homes. When they arrived that early, Glen knew that they wanted to see what he had to show them.
“Okay, come into my office. We’ve got a surveillance tape in one of the street lamps at the house. The cameras picked this up.”
They watched a dark figure with medium build and short hair, could be a taboggin, running into the house.
“As you also know, Ricky and Jason found a body in the house.”
“No, we didn’t know, ” screamed Lloyd, as if he were working the case.
“yeah, his name is Joel Demiko. He’s a dolly grip for Universal Pictures. We found him face down on a rolltop desk with a point blank shot fired into the back of his head.”
Glen went into the back and into the evidence room and came back with a small plastic bag. He threw it on the desk facing Gene and Lloyd.
“We found this taped to the front of his VCR.”
Gene picked it up and looked at a piece of paper:
UT – 9
HL II 88
Lloyd walked over to observe this as Gene said, bewildered “What the hell does this mean?”
Tumey had now stationed himself in his wooden swivel chair behind his desk. He had an old Sweet Times bottle on the table.
“We haven’t a clue. We figured out that -9 and 88 is 79 but that still doesn’t help us.”
He now had one drink poured and gulped it down quickly. He started to pour another.
“The Roman numerals might be something to do with, a, ah, hell.”
Then Lloyd spoke up after he had been pondering in the corner. “You said he was a grip for a movie studio?”
“Yeah, Universal. It’s down Wilshire. You remember ’93 when we went there.”
“I was thinking maybe the II was a film, a sequel and the initials were HL. The 88 could be the release date.”
“Then what does UT -9 stand for?” Gene stammered.
“I don’t know, but we’ve got to figure this out for the boy’s sake.”
As they left, it seemed as if Tumey was going to make an afternoon of drinking, so they slipped the evidence out the door with them. Lloyd and Gene both went to their houses to check in and agreed they would meet at the crime scene to investigate and question some of the neighbors.
Gene went to the left house while Lloyd went to the right.
“Excuse me, I’m with the Los Angeles PD . I’m investigating the murder of a Joel Demiko. He was your next door neighbor. Can you tell me where you were on that night?”
Gene was talking to a man in his 30’s with short, dark hair, very muscular.
“I wasn’t here most of the night. I left at 6:00 to go to a friend of mine’s party and didn’t get home until about 1 or 2, I don’t know, I was pretty wasted. You can’t do anything about that, can you?”
“No, I’m afraid not. Do you know of enemies he might have had? A jealous girlfriend? An angry co-worker?”
“Nah, I didn’t know him that well. So, no , I don’t know of any enemies.”
“You call the station if you think of any thing else. Thank you for all your cooperation.”
“Sure thing, man. Hey, by the way, do you think you could get me his phone book? I’ve been trying and trying to get a job in Hollywood, but they keep closing doors on me.”
“Sorry, that’s tampering with evidence. I’d have to arrest you for that.”
Lloyd met him halfway to the deathbed of their sons, the house they were murdered in.
“I want to get the phonebook. For evidence purposes”
“Hurry up. I need to get back to the office.”
Gene found it in the desk’s top drawer and with it found a career biography of the work he had done.
“Come on, we’re wasting time here.”
He shut the book and mentally decided to read through it, thoroughly, later on.
“Hey Lloyd, come in here a minute.”
He spotted Charlie, the computer expert at the station. He was a good friend of Jason and Ricky’s. He joined the force with them, as a matter of fact. Charlie wasn’t as aggressive or physical as the boys were, so he excelled at the keyboard.
“I took the liberty of cross referencing sequels from 1988 that were produced at Universal Studios and found 10 possibilities. Only 1 had the initials of HL. Highlander Part II.”
“Great work Charlie. I appreciate all your help.”
“I want to do this, for Ricky and Jason. I want to help you nail the son of a bitch who shot them.”
“You’re a great kid. We’ll get him. I know we’re going to get him.”
Just then, Gene busted in the room, “Lloyd, the UT -9 stands for the Untouchables. There was a list of film credits that Demiko had worked on. The Untouchables in 1987 was one. The following year, 1988, he did Highlander II. HL II.”
“That’s what Charlie just figured out.”
“Now, what I can’t figure out is why would he put the year of HL II and not by UT?”
“I don’t know but I Have got to get home.”
“I second that motion.”
1653 Woodlawn Ave. 12:05 am
Elmo Burggs is arriving home from a long night at the office. He opens the door and checks the answering machine. “Too many business calls, not enough personal.”
“That’s a shame,” It was the last thing that Burggs heared.
While leaving his clues for Gene and Lloyd, he dropped an object that he didn’t notice he dropped.
While making his great escape, another unnoticed mistake: He cut himself jumping the fence and it dripped a trail of blood. A small trail.
Later, at Gene’s Home:
“You missed supper, Gene. You’ve been wrapped up in this case and you’re never home. We are all ripped apart by the boy’s death, but we’re handling it together. You and Lloyd are out trying to join the force. Do you think you’ll catch this guy?”
“I think he’s a serial killer. If he does it again, we can catch him. I know it. He’s not getting away with this. He’s going to pay.”
The phone rung to break up the tension between them. Gene picked it up. “Yeah?”
A few seconds later, he hung up. “He’s done it again. I’ve got to go.”
“Can’t this wait till morning?”
Gene stormed across the room, angry at such a remark. “Don’t you understand what’s going on here? We’ve got a chance to retribute our boys’ deaths. We will”
Lloyd picked up Gene and they drove to Woodlawn Ave. to investigate the crime scene. “Glen, what do you have for us?”
“Check out the book.”
Gene picked it up. It was a thick, worn-out hardback edition of Robin Hood. It was bookmarked to page 217 where a passage was underlined. It read:
“Cousin, the townspeople are calling him the Prince of Thieves.”
The bookmark was a folded piece of paper. Gene took it out and examined it a moment before unfolding it. On the top was three digits in italic:
He unfolded it and saw it was a calendar page for October. It was covered in red highlighter marker. He handed it to Lloyd for his inspection.
“Nope, that’s the only clue left.”
“Who’s the guy?”
“His name is Elmo Burggs, he’s a production designer for Paramount and for some time, Warner Bros.”
A holler from outside echoed in the house.
“Glen, we’ve got blood on the fence out here.”
Everyone ran outside to investigate.
“They found a scrape on the neighbors fence. We’ve also got a small trail leading south down that alley. He must have cut himself making his getaway.”
“Get a sample and take it to the lab.” Glen is a forma chief with most of the squad, but once in a while, he has to assume his executive position and bark out a few orders here and there.
Gene and Lloyd went back in to investigate the body. He was shot in the back of the neck as if he was about to turn around, but he didn’t make it.
“Well, we’ll finally have a solid lead when we get those samples back. As for these clues, they are referring to the Hunt for Red October in 1990 and Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves in 1991. What’s this guy trying to tell us?”
“Well, I need some sleep. I need to get home. Kathy’s already upset with me.”
“Okay, we’ll see you tomorrow.”
Gene left and you could always hear his junkie Chrysler pull away or at least smell it. He didn’t believe in power steering, so his belt was always burning and causing fumes. Lloyd has told him to take it out and offered to do it, but he won’t go for it.
Everyone filed out and as usual, Lloyd was the last guy to leave. On his way out, he kicked something.
“What the hell is that?”
He pulled up the rug and found a pill bottle, still almost full. He picked it up and read the label.
“As prescribed for severe coughing and dry throat for Ryder, Jon
1711 Slufield Drive
“This is it!” He paused because he couldn’t believe it. This was the lead he needed. He knew he should g home and get some rest. But if he went after him now, he’d be off guard. Lloyd though a minute and decided he was going for it.
Lloyd went to an all-night gas station to pick up some beer and fuel. Then he headed for Slufield. He pulled up at the house at about 2:00am. It was a tan house with two stories and shutters on all of the windows. None of the lights were on and there was no car in the driveway. Lloyd got out and unholstered his gun. He creeped silently up the driveway, just awaiting something to happen. He was so nervous because he knew he was going to get this guy. He would pay for what he did. Now, Lloyd was at the door and he was actually excited thinking about killing this guy. He wanted to take a life and betray the code of honor he took 20 years ago when he first joined the police force. He busted the door down and went in with his gun held up. He investigated the upstairs and the bottom floor, but Ryder wasn’t there. Then, he heard a car pull up outside. Sounded like a great engine. Lloyd got in between the opening of the door and kitchen, giving him a clear shot at the door. He waited for about 10 seconds when Crash! Somebody came through the window. It had to be Ryder.
He tore through the dining room, trying to get away. Lloyd followed in closely and tackled him from the back. Lloyd clubbed him by the back and then turned him around to see his face. The next four seconds were the longest seconds of his life. He got a real good look at him until he pulled out a gun from his pants pocket and aimed it at Lloyd’s head. He grabbed it and directed it away from him, but he was still in danger since Ryder was fighting with it too.
It wavered in front of him as John started squirming. Lloyd punched him square in the nose and at that point lost control of the gun. He quickly grabbed back at it, but it was too late. Ryder fired a shot into Lloyd’s right shoulder. He slumped off of Ryder and fell to the ground, in dire pain. Ryder stood up in shock, but not knowing what to do, he grabbed the gun and took off through the front door. Lloyd got up and made it to the phone. He dialed Gene’s home number and listened to the dial tone 3 times before Gene answered.
Gene had just gotten to bed and comfortable when the phone rang.
“Who the hell is calling at this time of night?” He complained to his wife, who was asleep and couldn’t hear him anyways.
“Gene, it’s Lloyd.”
“Where are you? Is there anything wrong?”
“I am at our serial killer’s house. I tracked him down. He shot me though. My arm is completely useless.”
“What the address? I’m coming down there. Don’t you move!”
“1711 Slufield Drive. I’ve got to go get him. He’s running away.”
Gene put on his clothes and grabbed his gun and headed for the door.
“Gene where are you going?”
“Lloyd’s been shot. He found the killer.”
Kathy was screaming at the top of her lungs, but Gene was already in the car, revving up the engine.
Lloyd saw Ryder down the street about 3 blocks as he ran into a movie theater. His shoulder was bleeding profusely. He stopped at the door to the cinemas and took his jacket off. He ripped off the sleeve and tied it around his shoulder. He went in with his gun unholstered. He screamed at the popcorn girl. “Did you see a young blond run in here?”
“yeah, he didn’t have a ticket.”
“Well, where did he go?”
“I think he went into No. 5.”
Gene passed up a movie theater that he saw a puddle of blood in front of the doors. He stopped and went into reverse. He pulled the car into a parking lot, unholstered his gun and went into the building.
“Did you see a man in his 50’s with a shoulder wound come in here?”
“Yeah, he was following a blonde into the theater no. 5”
“Thanks a lot.”
Gene ran into to find a hole in the movie screen and viewers scampering out of the theater.
“Lloyd, where are you?”
No answer for a minute.
“I’m at the front.”
Gene ran up there to find Lloyd on the ground, holding his chest.
“He shot me in the chest.”
“Oh, my god. I can’t believe this. Stay here, I’m going to call 9-1-1.”
Lloyd laid there a few more minutes until Gene came back.
“They’ll be here in a minute. You’re going to be fine. Everything’s going to be fine. I know it.”
” I want you to get this guy. He’s not getting away with any of this stuff. He’s going to pay. You get him.”
“Stop it, you’re talking like it’s over. It’s not over. You’re going to be fine.”
***And that’s as far as I got with it. I don’t remember if Lloyd was supposed to die or not and I can’t remember what else I had planned but as I can tell typing this, really loose story with a lot of things that don’t make sense. But, a good start, think I was in Jr. High when I started writing this. Thanks for reading.*****