John Malloy (14)

                John Malloy (14)
      *the Blackmailed Beauty*

Bill  Withers Meets Mona Lott
                                *

        I was parked in a darkened  booth toward the back of the dingy bar, right in front of the pool tables. I was facing the front door so I could see when Mona Lott and Bill Withers  made the scene.

      Across the three-foot wide isle was a row of mostly occupied bar stools.  A lot  of the patrons seemed to be cops, or the friends of cops. The 'Pit Stop' was Withers' favorite hideout from his wife, the not so charming Clara Withers. The smoke-filled bar had the right moniker, without a doubt.…It WAS the PITS!

     Hank Williams was sort of singing a strictly from Dixie farm-fresh crying cowboy tune on the ancient jukebox. The tears in my beer song was called, "Wealth Won't Save Your Soul."

       I tried my best  not to hear it….but it was like the old Chinese water torture bit...It doesn't seem to ever stop!  As soon as it was over,  another nickel in the slot from some off-duty flatfoot would bring  it back to life again like a vampire at sundown.
.
      I was nursing a warm beer, waiting for Mona  show her shapely behind, knowing Bill Withers would  be here after a long day of busting the chops  of  L.A. citizens he was sworn to protect and serve.

    Then I heard a commotion going around the claustrophobic beer joint. I looked up to see Mona Lott, gyrating her firm caboose in my direction.

       Her curvy body was adorned by a glittery, short red number, accented with with black fishnet stockings. Mona Lott was perched atop shiny, black three-inch high heels.

     She glided in like a runway model, swinging  her full hips,
 thruting them from side to side. Cat calls and  whistles followed her every step.

    "Come and sit on my FACE, honey!" some Romeo called out.

      Mona casually glanced over her shoulder at the schmuck and said in a throaty voice…"I saw your face, darlin'....It's definitely NOT the best seat in the HOUSE!"

      She left the poor sap sitting at the bar, red-faced and burning up, as his fellow cops hooted and slapped him on the back…with great enthusiasm.

      Mona planted her fine butt opposite me and nodded. "Is our pigeon here to be plucked yet?" she asked, picking up my beer mug and taking a sip.

        "Not yet," I answered. "'What'll  you have?"

     "Gin fizz will do, thanks."

      I signaled the skinny barkeep to come over. When he landed, I ordered her gin fizz thingy  and  a refill of my house beer.

      The nervous little guy took a long time pretending to write 'gin fizz' down on his  notepad so he could hover over Mona and peek down her low-cut traffic-stopper of a dress.

     After the jittery barkeep reluctantly shuffled his dogs back behind the bar, I took some time to admire the smooth swells of Mona's ample headlights, which were happily spilling over the top of her smoking-hot outfit..

    "Do you approve of the bait?" she smiled.

       "Oh yeah!,"I said with a wink…"If Withers' ticker is still ticking after he swallows your swell  bait, he'll be a flopping and  helpless landed fish!"

      Mona took a dainty sip of her drink. "I would do anything for Scotty"she said
with a serious expression playing over her gorgeous features. "That L. A. vice squad has shaken down a lot of Scotty's Hollywood friends and customers.  Scotty called me in because he wants the best to help you take down this dirty cop!"

     She gave me a  look that told me she was shooting straight. "I'm not charging him a cent!...I owe him so much for his kindness when I needed a friend, recently."

     "Hey, Bill!" someone yelled.
"You owe me five samolions!..  Cough it up, PIKER!"

      As Withers was haggling with the guy, Mona reached over the table to touch my arm. "What do I tell him about you, John?"

     "I've  thought about that, "I answered on the Q.T. "I'll be taking a powder as soon as the hook's in. Tell him I'm your body guard and pimp. You might mention I'm a little light in the loafers, so he doesn't think I'm a threat to him."

   "Got it," she winked.

      I scoped around  the bar and saw Withers looking our way, while a pal seemed to be clueing him in about the sexy stranger in the bar. He was  apparently having 1a busy  gabfest about Mona in the two-man huddle.

      Just then, a shrimp in  a rumpled gray business suit hopped down off his barstool and started staggering in our general direction. His black tie was loosened with his windsor  not hanging on his small chest.

     The way he was weaving down the isle told me he was  pickled to the gills. His swigger trigger must have been pulled early in the morning, I figured

    As he arrived with a smile plastered on his ruddy mug, he tipped his crumpled fedora and  adressed Mona. "I beg your pardon,  young lady, but am I correct in my assumption that you are a lady of the (hic) evening?"

      He almost toppled over when he tried to bow from the waist…."A thousand pardons if I am mistaken in that (hic) assumption, dear lady!...But I  certainly hope that is not the case.

     He stood, bleary-eyed, waiting for an answer for a few seconds.

       Finally, Mona reached up and pulled he head down to yak in his ear.  I heard her tell him, almost in a whisper, "I am certainly a lady of the evening, little man….I'm also pretty good in the night and into the daylight hours, as well."

      The little guy stood up  and danced around in drunken glee. "Oh, goody goody!....How much for just the ev (hic) ening?"

    "Do you own your own home?" she asked.

     "Why, yes…as matter of fact...I (hic) do indeed, dear lady!

      "Sell it," she smiled.

     " Oh! (hic)...I'm sorry to have bothered (hic) you, pretty lady!"

       After the little man had left, Mona and I started playing  pool.  She made a pont to bend over while making a shot whenever Withers was watching…which was all the time. She also made a point of smiling at him, often.

     After the second game, which I lost in order to make way for Withers to approach the female flesh bait, he lumbered over and asked me, "Mind if I try my hand at beating the young lady?"

      "You may go now, Fredrick," she said with a dismissive wave in my direction. "I shant be needing your services for the rest of the day. I'm sure this gentleman will see no harm comes to me."

     'I have to hand it to Moma Lott', I though to myself. 'She sure knows how to bait a hook!'

    "Yes, Miss Lott," I said, getting up to leave. Before I Mosied off, I noticed Bill Withers was drooling spit all over his fat chin.
              **********
    Coming to blue movie theater near you"The Bill Withers Cheap Motel Room Peep Show!"

I'm bringing my own popcorn!