John Malloy. (15) the Sgt. Withers Show

           John Malloy (15).
     *the  Blackmailed Beauty

(The Mona and Bill Withers Show)

*Opening at a motel near YOU!*

    This case I like no other case I've ever had. The damsel in distress looks just like Hedy Lamarr!  She's being blackmailed by a dirty L.A. vice cop who took pictures of her having sex with Katharin Hepburn!

In other words, a REAL yawn!

     I let the ameche go for a few rings before I picked up. I put the earpiece to my noggin and picked up the stand. "Malloy Detective Agency," I recited.

     "The fat fish took the bait, John!" I heared Mona announce."

     "I'd be flabbergasted if he hadn't!" I laughed. "Is it time to synchronize watches?"

     "It's time, John," I heard her laughing. "I've got a date to meet that slob at the motel room at seven this evening….Can you be in the closet and ready to record by then?"
      
    "That gives me two whole hours, kid. No problemo!"

     After checking on Lana and driving her to a local play she had a small part in, I gave her cab fare to get back to my place.

     Then I headed toward the Golden Eagle motel to set up my equipment for the Withers and Mona Lott Show

     I had the top down and the radio on as I cruised down Central Avenue, enjoying the sunshine of the swell spring day.

      I turned the radio dial to a news broadcast. The announcer was reading a recap of the month's news so far in 1947.

               "Dateline–Washinton…
Congress  passed what they call the 'Truman Doctrine!' It's going to be a governmental committee charged with stopping the spread of communism in America,….What could go wrong, folks?"

     "Dateline Hollywood- Olivia De Havelliland just won the Oscar this month for 'The Best Years of Our Lives!.....Way to go, Miss De Havilland!... This reporter was pulling for you all all the way!"

     "And in sports!  Gretchen Merrill won the ladies figure skating championship!...Richard Botian won the men's division!"

    I reached over and clicked off the radio. When it  comes to sports, the subject always leaves me cold….unless of course,  it's boxing or baseball, natch!.  

      I spied the street sign for the Imperial Highway a half a block ahead. When I got there I hung a left and saw the motel sign near the intersection.

     I drove slowly in past the small manager's office building and pulled in next to cabin number ten…one of the two empty cabins I'd counted on to help keep my project off the radar.


    I grabbed the bag with my recording gear out of the trunk and ankled over to number nine.

     The small cottage looked like a million other white wooden motel cabins. As I stepped to the small elevated porch, I fished the key out of my trousers pocket and let myself in.

      The inside was about twenty by twenty, with a large bed and spartan furnishings. There was a G.E. refrigerator in a corner and a tall Motorolla radio roughly four foot tall standing by the bed. Just past the foot of the bed there was a little bathroom, boasting a toilet, sink and small tin shower stall.

      I ambled over to the large walk-in closet which was the main reason I chose this motel. I pulled the door open and peeked inside. There was about four feet of floor space to mright;... plenty of space for me to hide myself and my movie camera under an army blanket until Withers was set up for his first scene with Mona.

     I pulled the wire recorder out of the bag and slipped it under the bed to make sure it would fit. I pulled it back out and started to wait for Withers and Mona to show.

      Right on time, Mona drove up on a low-slung sports job and sat there, as per instructions. I wanted the two of them to enter together so I had time to set up the wire recorder and turn it on.

      A few minutes later, Withers drove up in a dull brown Dodge two-seater and parked behind Mona.

       I ran over and turned on the battery-operated recorder and shoved it way back under the bed against the wall, hopefully far enough for the fat Withers to miss if he looked under the bed.

     I dashed to the closet. Then I took my movie camera, along with an old army blanket and crouched in the back corner, covering myself in the blanket. I leaned forward so's not to provide a human-looking profile.

      I then went into my pile of old clothing act, famous for being unknown.
 
     I heard the key unlocking the door, followed by Withers' booming voice. "I guess this'll do. It ain't exactly the Ritz!"

     "Quit sniveling, WORM!" Mona commanded. "I don't have all night, you worthless WEASEL! Get out of those clothes and prepare to submit to my WIlLL!"

     I heard Mona turn on the radio as I'd instructed to mask the sounds ofl my recording gear. She found a country western station to keep Withers pacified.

     "Yes, Mistress Mona!" Withers whimpered. Do with me what you will, my beautiful Goddess!

      My hopes began to soar!

…..But first" he said, dashing my soaring hopes on the rocks, "I gotta check this place out, Mistress. Somebody's been sniffin' around my wife, askin' a lotta questions about me! I gotta be careful."

      I heard him huffing with a lot of effort.

     "There's nothing under that bed, you paranoid, fat little SLUG!" Mona said to alert me.

     Why are you looking in the bathroom?" Mona said loud enough to keep me informed.

      "I gotta see, Mistress ,Mona!" he yelled back. "Whoever was pumpin' my old lady for info on me wasn't Internal Affairs. They don't work that way. That means it's a private DICK!  As soon as I track him down, he's a dead SNOOP!"

     "Gotta check the closet and I'm ready for my punishment, my Mistress!!"

     I reached in my shoulder holster for my .45 in case this turned ugly.

     "HEY!" I heard Withers voice coming from inside the closet. "What's under the blanket?"

     "It's just equipment I carry with me for special events," Mona improvised

     "I gotta LOOK!" said Withers'.

     "If you don't get your sorry butt over here RIGHT now, WORM, I'm not giving you that golden shower facial!.....It's ALL OFF!"

     'YES, Mistress Mona. I'm SO sorry! I'm coming!"
.
     I took a deep breath and  tossed the blanket. I took my Bell,&Howell to the doorway. I slowly cracked the door open.

     I saw Withers, butt naked on his knees in front of the bed. He was wearing a collar and a leash, which Mona held in her left hand.  

     She had on her skimpy leather outfit I saw at Bowers' hacienda. The only difference was the addition of black studded leather bracelets and black velvet gloves, reaching halfway up her forearms.

     Mona was standing over the Cop with a riding crop in her right hand. She was looking down to the fat, naked cop with disgust on her beautiful pan. "You've been a naughty boy, you Low-life ANIMAL!" she said, placing a spiked heel shoe on his back. Then she started whipping his hairy kiester.

     I saw the cop had a stiff erection on his tiny schlong. He was crying out  in perverted masochistic delight.

      "After you spank me," Withers whimpered happily...."can I PLEASE have my golden shower, Mistress MONA?"

    I pulled the movie camera's eyepiece up to my mug and turned on the Bell & Howell camera to start recording the 'Bill Withers Show' for posterity.




 




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