The Noir Before Christmas by Ang Pompano

The Noir before Christmas written and read by Ang Pompano

Episode Transcript

(00:00):
Hello, Dark and Stormy is stillon vacation for the holidays, and I'd
like to introduce Ange Pompano and TheNoir before Christmas. Enjoy The Noir before
Christmas by Ange Pompano. It wasthree days before Christmas, just past four

(00:21):
o'clock in the afternoon, and thesun had already vanished behind the Litchfield Hills,
bringing my spirits with it. Outsidemy second floor office window, snowflakes
the size of quarters drifted under theglow of a flickering street lamp. I
had a view of all seven buildingson the other side of Main Street and
the handful of souls who braved thechill air. A man in an ugly

(00:45):
reindeer sweater slipped into the barber shop. A frail lady wrapped in layers of
scarves and coats walked a huge mastiff, the dog's breath forming frosty puffs.
Two teenagers strolled handed hand. Thesign on the antique mall in the converted
axe factory down the street made meyearn for the days When I gazed from

(01:07):
my old office window at the distantHollywood sign in La I favored the lights
of Hollywood Boulevard and the sight ofstreet walkers outside the Star World restaurant over
the carrollers harmonizing in front of LaSalle'sMarket. The stark contrast between the thrill
of Hollywood and this quiet village didnothing to uplift my holiday spirits. As

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I watched the teen lovebirds start acrossthe narrow street, I thought of how
there was nothing of interest for aPI in my boyhood town of Collinsville.
That's why I left Connecticut ten yearsago. But then Detective Frank Dewyl of
the LAPD made it more than clearthat it would be best if I set
up shop back home for a bit. The while and I were friends,

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at least until I inadvertently connected hisboss to a call girl. One thing
led to another, and the mayorhad to resign, but not before a
bullet from his gun grazed my head, given me a permanent part in my
curly locks. I was told tolay low until the trial came up with
my luck that would take a coupleof years. The kids stepped out into

(02:20):
the street, then paused as themost amazing car I'd ever laid eyes on
sped down Main Street with a roaringedge that echoed through the town. It
screeched to a hall, then reversedinto a parking space right in front of
my building. The car's sleek andcurved design, with its rounded cockpit and
long hood and teardrop fenders, madeit both sinister and beautiful at the same

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time. It must have been seventyfive years old. If a day black
and shiny as polished Onyx a BugattiAtlantic Coop. The only place I'd ever
seen one of those babies was ona calendar. The priceless vehicle was beyond
sweet, and it didn't belong onthe street in a sunny day, let

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alone during a snowstorm. If myinterest had been peaked by the car,
the stylish woman who stepped from itmade its skyrocket. She wore a fur
trim coat that would send a petasupporter running for the pink can. Her
boots were black and thigh high.Her statement handbag and oversized sunglasses spoke volumes

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high and fashioned indeed, and Idoubted if she was there to get a
grinder at LaSalle's. Seeming not tonotice the two teenagers peering in the windows
of her car, she walked towardmy building and came in through the open
transit. I could hear her footstepscome up the two flights, then a
decisive knock at the door. It'sopen. She swept in like she owned

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the place. Mister Saint Martin gaveher a chair and leaned on the edge
of my desk. Call me,Mike, Miss Jean will do for now.
Okay, Jeane, it is fornow. What can I do for
you? On her finger was arock that violated light pollution standards. A

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tasteful black dress peeked out from underher coat. I pegged her from someone
from down Fairfield County. I knowthe type. I call it New York
light. I'd like to engage yourservices, but let me be clear.
If I entrust you with the case, discretion is crucial. Well, she's
serious, Mike, Saint Martin doesn'tget interviewed by clients. He interviews them.

(04:39):
Yeah. Well, as much asI'd like to be engaged, I'm
kind of up to my eyeballs inwork right now. She looked around the
sparsely furnished office. Her eyes stoppedon a folding table with a half finished
game of Solitaire. Yes, Ican see. Her tone fell somewhere between

(05:00):
condescending and doubt. She got up, walked to the window and peered down
at her car. I'll have toget it washed. Those kids are getting
fingerprints all over it. It's aBagatti, isn't it. You know your
automobiles. I hope you know yourjob as well. I didn't say I
was interested in the case, buthow discreet twenty five thousand dollars twenty five

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grand For money like that, Icould be the Sola discretion. What's the
gig? I need you to findsomething of mine? What is this something
I have to recover? I mean, if I had the time to take
on the case. She lowered hereyes as if she was looking for it
on my floor. It had beena while since I swept the place,

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so anything she might find there wasprobably covered in a pretty good layer of
dust. It's a video disc.I'm assuming it's a video disc that your
husband would be less than happy tosee on YouTube. A boudoir tape intended
for my husband only you shocked?Envious of her husband, maybe, but

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not shocked. In the age oftexting, Nah, good look. If
you want me to help you,I need some facts, such as any
idea who might be interested in yourmovie career. She reeled off and slapped
me so hard my teeth clapped likecastanets. I hate when I let my

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guard down. What was that for? For making it sound like something it
isn't, and for whatever else youwere assuming? And she sat down as
if nothing happened. The man whohas it is called Melvin Burke, she
said, he somehow got his handson the DVD and now he's blackmailing you,
right, yes, something like that. How did he get it?

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From outside? Came a sound likea screaming banshee, and she lamped from
her seat. Those kids, theymust have rocked the car. I have
to go. I'll be in touch, she hurried from the office. I
stood on the landing listening to herfootsteps go down the steps. I didn't
say i'd take the case, sheyelled up to me. I said I'd

(07:17):
be in contact, mister Saint Martin, and the door slammed. When I
got back to my desk, Ifound an envelope marked for expenses. Inside
were ten one hundred dollars bills anda business card with the name Melvin Burke
CPA. I guess I was takingthe case, after all. Burke's card

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had his home address and phone number. The phone had been disconnected, but
I went to check out the addressone forty one Palmer Drive in Bloomfield.
When I left collins Field, therewas just enough snow to make driving miserable,
and by the time I reached PalmerDrive, twelve miles away, it
was coming down in a heavy clip. I cursed the ex mayor of LA.

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I needed a case in Beverly Hills, not in Bloomfield. I pulled
up in front of a vacant sixystyle ranch house. Next door, an
elderly gentleman pushed a snowshovel along hissidewalk. He seemed to welcome the excuse
to take a break, and Igave him my card. I explained I
was looking for Burke and Detective.I'm not surprised what he do. I'm

(08:26):
a private investigator, not a cop. I'm just trying to locate him.
It's of a personal nature. Italways amazes me how some people will open
up to a PI about their neighbors. I think it makes them feel important
to be in possession of exclusive information. The guy told me Melvin and his
wife broke up a few months back, and they abandoned the house to the

(08:48):
mortgage company. At first she movedout, and then a few days later
he did, so you don't knowwhere he lives. I didn't say that.
I asked the driver of the movingvan where the stuff was going.
Guess I ever needed to get ahold of Melvin Great. Can you tell
me where? The old man glancedat the unshoveled sidewalk. Uh not,

(09:11):
off the top of my head.I have to go inside and look.
I ain't much good at remembering stuff. Likely you know what I mean.
He glanced at the snow covered driveway. Look, let me shovel some of
this here. Then you can goinside and look for the address. The
old man nodded and went into thehouse. I saw him peek out the
window a few times, but hedidn't come out until the driveway was finished.

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You're done. You didn't have todo that. Here. I wrote
the address down for you, aHartford address. I probably could get there
in a half hour. As Iheaded down the newly shoveled driveway toward my
car, the old man called out, don't tell Melvin. I said anything.
The guy's kind of touchy sometimes.It was about nine point fifteen when

(09:56):
I found Melvin Burke's building a fewblocks from the State Cap Hartford. The
neighborhood reminded me of East la butwith snow. I knocked at the door
of his first floor apartment. Aslight guy with thick glasses answered he had
a baseball bat in his hand.I tapped at my gun under my jacket
and he laid the bat down bythe door. Melbourne Burke, who's asking,

(10:22):
Mike Saint Martin, I'm trying tolocate a video? What am I
Netflix? My client wants her videonow. He laughed, as if someone
in his head was telling him ajoke. That wouldn't be a woman named
Jean, would it? Do youhave the video or not? I haven't
locked away for safe keeping, andit's going to stay that way for insurance

(10:43):
insurance against squat rich people will makeup their own rules. Did she tell
you I was their husband's accountant.Well, that was news to me,
and and I'm not going down aloneon this. I remember seeing his eyes
go wide and then and the roomwent white for me. When I woke
up, he was lying on thefloor under the Christmas tree. A gun

(11:05):
was next to him, my gun. He didn't look well in fact i'd
seen rice with more color. Thehole in his gut didn't help Burke.
He tried to tell me something,the blood in his mouth making little bubbles
coffee desk. Then he let outa deep sigh as last words go.

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I'd heard better coffee is my drugof choice too, but I hope it's
not my last request. I heardpolice sirens, and I didn't want to
be around for any questions. Ididn't have the answers to I took the
gun and then used a handkerchief toopen the window by the desk. There
was a commotion in the hall andI climbed out. I glanced back and

(11:48):
noticed the mug with the words GlobeGem on the desk. It struck me
that Burke was trying to tell meto take the mug. I reached in
and grabbed it. I got tomy car just as a second and then
a third cruiser arrived. Back atthe office, I fiddled with the mug
as I weighed my options. Ihad half a mind to keep Jean's grand

(12:11):
as a hazard duty pay and forgetthe job. But the other half of
my mind reminded me that my gunkilled Burke. I noticed four numbers written
in white paint on the bottom.O three dash one five dash one zero
slash three six a production number theIDEs of March twenty ten, but thirty

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six. I decided I was duefor a trip to the gym. The
next morning, I headed down there, and ten dollars later, I was
in possession of another Globe Jim Mugtwo matching mugs. For me. It
was the equivalent of a fine setof china, except the new one had
no numbers, which told me thedigits weren't a manufacturing code. Someone came

(12:58):
to the desk and said he'd forgottenthe combination to his locker. That's when
it clicked that O three one fiveone oh might be the combination of locker
thirty six. I headed for thechanging room, and sure enough, number
thirty six opened with that combination.I peered inside nothing. When I got

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to the parking lot, I spottedan older lady peering into her car with
cupped hands. Excuse me, shesaid, I locked my keys in the
car. Could you help? Whynot? I took a lockjack from my
trunk and stuck it between the doorand the window and popped the lock.
She thanked me and offered me money, which I refused, and her gratitude

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quickly turned to suspicion. My lands, You're not a car thief, are
you. I didn't want to tellher a Jimmy was a tool of the
trade for a PI, so Isaid, I worked for TRIPLEA. You
should get a little magnetic box fora spare key. I told her.
I put my hand in the wheelwell to show her a good place to

(14:01):
hide it. She thanked me anddrove off. At least I did a
good deed. Nothing else was goingright. But as I pulled out of
the parking lot, a lot ofthe synapses started to fire off in my
head. I made a sharp Uturn and barely missed a box truck.
I ran back into the gym andI opened locker thirty six taped under the

(14:24):
shelf. I found a video disc. Now to get it to Jeane.
I'd known Billy Siluki since high school. Even then, he was only happy
when he was up to his elbowsin grease. These days, he's doing
well, running his own garage outsideCollinsville. I'm trying to find a woman
who drives an antique Bogotti. Didyou ever come in here? I remember

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a car like that? Did youtry the Bogotti Club down in Greenwich?
I shook my head. She's notthe car club type. We want her
to give it a shot. Iknew Billy was right. I looked up
Bugatti Club, then headed for theGold Coast town of Greenwich, where every
home was a gated mansion. Ifound the Bugatti Club located in what had

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been a stately house on Putnam Avenue. Out front as if posed for a
calendar photo shoot. There were threecars with the Bugatti badge, a convertible,
a sedan, and a coop,all decorated in festive lights. My
hope's soared that my trip wasn't wasted. Inside I found a youngish woman behind

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the desk and told her that Iwas trying to find a certain Bugatti owner.
Are you a club member? No, I'm afraid I can only give
information to club members. I'll jointhe club. Then, excellent. Are
you a present or former owner ofa Bugatti? No? But I have
a Bugatti calendar, she smiled,and I noticed a picture on her desk.

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Is that your wedding picture? Yes? That's me and Lee. She
said, Look, I have tolevel with you. There's this woman that
I would love to know. Seethat look on your husband's face. That's
how I felt when I saw her. We met at a club and we
talked, we danced, and wereally connected, you know what I mean.
She was about to give me heraddress when one of my buddies got

(16:17):
into a brawl. Well, Iwent to help break it up, and
when I got back, she wasleaving, and I saw her driving off
in an antique Bugatti, and Iwanted to find her to apologize, and
you know, see if we couldtake up where we left off. Why
don't you do an internet search?I would, but I only know her
first name, Jean, So Ithought I'd take a long shot and see

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if Gene belongs to the club.I pointed to the wedding picture. I
want a chance to be like him. I could see her face often.
Lee and I almost didn't connect.We met at Daytona and never exchange numbers.
And he came back the next yearhoping to run into me. Oh
well, then you know how Ifeel, of course, she said,

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But I can't help you. I'llget fired. I had to be careful
not to be too pushy. Iunderstand. I guess I just wasn't meant
to be. I turned and Iwalked toward the door. Wait, you
can't give up just like that.I mean, for her sake. What
if Lee and I had given up, I'd have missed out on the best

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thing in my life. We haveto hurry before my boss gets back.
You said her name was Jean,Right, that's all I have. Like
I said, I don't even knowif she belongs to the club. She
gave me a knowing look. Bugattisare so rare they keep a database of
every Bugatti that's registered in the country. The owners are always hoping someone is

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selling one, even if it's justto get authentic parts. She punched in
a few things into her computer.Okay, her first name is Jean,
and you said the Bugatti was fromthe thirties. What motto long hood round
the cockpit doors like a piper,cub ground, fenders extended beyond the hood,

(18:03):
huge wheel wells, and the backwith full skirts. Oh yeah,
a Finn a really thin seam fromthe front to the back with rivets.
That sounds like a Type fifty sevenAtlantic about nineteen thirty eight. She put
in more information to the computer.Here we go. There are three here
in Connecticut, but they all belongto men. One belongs to a mister

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David Philban of Guildford, another toa mister Nick Stanley of Kent, and
a third to a mister Edward Novelloof Farmington. I left with her good
wishes and a read out. Theguy from Farmington seemed the most promising because
it was the closest to my Collinsvilleoffice. I did a search on my

(18:48):
phone again and mister Edward Novello aFarmington came up. Spouse Jean Adler Novello.
I did the eighty miles between Greenwichand Farmington and under an eye in
distance and in attitude. Farmington istoo Gregnich what Santa Barbara is to Beverly
Hills. It's just as filthy rich, but a lot more relaxed. I

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pulled up to a holiday decorated columnto portico of a massive Georgian colonial on
Oak Hill Drive. De Bugatti wasparked in the front of the garage alongside
a prius. I figured the priestsbelonged to the maid. I rang the
doorbell, expecting staff to answer.At first I didn't realize it was Geane.
Her hair was darker and her facewas very stern. Do you have

(19:34):
the video? I pulled it frommy jacket pocket right here. Why the
hide and seek game? She steppedoutside, coatless in spite of the cold
air. We walked away from thehouse into the circular drive. I told
you discretion, I would have contactedyou. Did you know Burke was dead?

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I didn't have time to ask.The front door opened again, and
a vaguely familiar middle aged man walkedtoward us. Is there a problem,
Jean? Then it struck me,Ted Novelle, probably one of the most
recognizable men in the state thanks tothe corny commercials that he started for his

(20:17):
construction company. I should have madethe connection when I got the readout from
the Bugatti Club Edward Novello, TedNovell, mister Saint Martin was just about
to leave. Jean's tone made awinter air that much colder. Novello eyed
the video in my hand. What'sthis about? I hired him to recover

(20:40):
a certain video. At first heseemed puzzled, then a wave of realization
swept over him. Give it tome. The lady hired me. I'll
give it to her. I handedthe DVD over to Jean. It dawned
on me why it was so importantto get it back. I guess your
husband's been taping more than commercials.I told you it was a boudoir tape.

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Jean said, enough of that.Give it to me, Jane,
and don't say another word. Shereluctantly gave it over. She doesn't have
to say a thing. I figuredout that she's not your co star in
the video. I had felt honorbound not to look at the disk before
returning it to the lady, butI was certain I was on the right
track. Pay him and get himout of here. And Novello said,

(21:27):
huh did he think I was thepizza delivery boy. I held up a
finger one. You can't dismiss me. I held up a second finger two.
There's the murder. Murder Burke,my accountant. Burke is dead.
Novello looked truly shaken. I don'tknow anything about a murder. Somebody here

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does, Jeane. There was angerin Novello's voice, but I also got
the sense that he was clueless.I turned to Jeane, you were keeping
tabs on me last night. Youset me up, then you killed Burke,
so you wouldn't have to dump himas your lover something like that.
She said, you had an affairwith my accountant, Jeane really. Her

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husband gave a dismissive laugh. Apparentlythe part about her killing someone escaped him.
You have your fun. I thoughtit would be just as served.
But then Burke got that video fromone of your girl friends. She said,
Novelle shook his head. We couldhave paid him off, he'd have
made copies and it would never end. Besides, he got the idea that

(22:38):
I divorce you to go with him. Can you have actually believe that he
thought that I would marry him.With these people's attitude on sex, it
didn't make sense that Burke had tobe so scared over an affair. Then
I remembered that he said rich peoplemake their own rules, and he wouldn't
go down alone. And I couldn'tresist giving my take on what was really

(23:00):
going on. This time I addressedthe husband. It was a little more
than just playing footsie. I thinkif you have your books checked, you'll
find that Burke was siphoning money fromyou, and he wasn't doing it alone.
Novella looked at his wife in disbelief. You and Burke stole from me.

(23:21):
How much She shrugged, as ifhe had asked her how much she
had spent on a new dress.A quarter million, maybe half. But
why you have no restrictions on whatyou spend, she answered, without emotion.
The woman must have been part robot. I didn't know he was stealing
from you, at least not atfirst, she said. Later it became

(23:42):
a game. You didn't miss themoney. Then I foolishly told him you
planned to announce your run for senate, and I paid him and broke it
off. So Novella was running forthe Senate. That explained the politically correct
prius. Well, that should havebeen the end end of it, he
said, but it wasn't. Heimmediately thought I was going to turn him

(24:04):
in for cooking the books. That'swhen he threatened to sabotage our campaign by
selling the tape to the media.They'd have a field day. I had
to stop him, but he disappeared. That's why I hired Sherlock here.
You should have let me do myjob, I told him. I couldn't
be sure you wouldn't resort to blackmailtoo. That's why I followed you to

(24:26):
Burke's as soon as you found him. I was going to pay you and
send you away. I figured Icould reason with him on my own,
but the door was ajar and Iheard he had already started to tell you
too much. That's when I hityou with the bat. He grabbed your
gun and I thought he was goingto shoot me, and I tried to
get it from him, and that'swhen it went off, and I panicked

(24:48):
and ran. You'd only seen mewith a wig and didn't know my name,
so I never thought you'd find me. Well, you said, you
hoped I knew my business. Idid. I could see a Novella face
that he was trying to process theinformation. I can't believe this is happening.
I don't need this, not now, not ever. Novello lurched toward

(25:10):
Jean. I pulled out my gun. Leave her alone, I yelled.
He dropped his hands. I motionedfor Jean to come by me. She
walked toward me, tears running fromher eyes. I'm a sucker for a
woman with tears. Now everyone isgoing to chill a minute, I said.
I fixed my gaze on Novello toshow her appreciation. Jean knocked the

(25:32):
gun from my hand and ran withmy attention diverted, Devello scooped up my
forty five from the driveway and heldit on me. Don't be a fool.
You had nothing to do with killingBurke. Put the gun down,
I said, you don't think I'mgoing to let a two bit detective get
between me and the Senate. Withscruples like that, he'd make an excellent
politician. Okay, now, whatare you going to do? Shoot me?

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I said, let me think.I could see the anguish in his
face. The guy's hand was shaking. Not what you want to see when
someone has a gun on you,I felt for the guy. It's not
often that you witness a person's worldto collapse around them without notice. Okay,
well, you have the opportunity tokill me, you have the resolve.

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I'm bidding you don't, and I'mbidding that you're not a killer.
Shut up, he said. Helowered the gun a bit, A good
sign. I'd hate to be inyour place, Novello. I like to
know where I stand, to knowthe consequences of my next move right now.
You don't have that luxury. Heraised the gun, and I was

(26:41):
sure that I had talked myself intoa bullet in the head. Chances were
this time it would be more thanjust a part in the curly locks.
Without warning, the Bugatti roared tolife. I flew through the air and
landed on the cold driveway. AlthoughI was dazed, I was aware of
a gun shot, followed by adeafening crash, and then screaming. As

(27:03):
the world gradually stopped spinning, Irealized Novello had tackled me out of the
way and fired at the car.When jean tried to run me over.
Novello, who was pinned between thecar and a portico column, was saved
only by the small space between therecessed radiator and the extended fenders. A

(27:25):
wreath had fallen and wrapped around hisshoulders, and by some miracle, he
was alive and climbing out. Jeannegot out of the car and rushed to
him. You tried to kill me, Novello said, in a matter of
fact voice. And you tried toshoot me, jean said, in the
same unflustered tone, as she removedthe wreath from around him. The exchange

(27:51):
between the two crazies got even morebizarre. They fell into each other's arms,
confident their position would distance them fromthis nightmare situation, but I wasn't
so sure. I turned away fromthem ast a distant whale of sirens cut
through the chilly air. Soon they'dbe the police's problem. As my hope

(28:14):
of receiving the twenty five grand genehad promised melted away like snowflakes on a
griddle, it hit me it wasChristmas Day, and though I knew I'd
never received the twenty five thousand dollars, Novello had surprised me with a couple
of gifts that I really appreciated,the first saving my life and the second

(28:34):
showing me that maybe there was aplace for this PI in Connecticut. I
pulled up my jacket collar and laughed. Because Jean had been right about one
thing. The media would have afield day.