This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 2.5 License.
The Case of Windy MacGillicuddy
by J. Ott
FADE IN:
INT. OFFICE OF BUDDY WINCHELL, PRIVATE EYE - DAY
Noir lighting filters in through the blinds on the stale, run
down office. Police sirens echo in the distance.
BUDDY WINCHELL leans back in his chair, feet up on the desk,
fedora cocked over his eyes, nursing a flask.
BUDDY (V.O.)
Even without a hangover on a Wednesday
morning, it was hard times in the city.
Ends weren't met and before you knew it,
even the casinos were losing money.
Normally hard times are boom times for a
private dick, but not me. I fell out of
favor when the papers got a hold of some
snaps I took of the mayor's wife in the
company of some lumberjacks.
Buddy hears something. His sits up, rights his hat and stows
his flask in a desk drawer. JIMMY, a kid with thick glasses
bursts in the door, holding something in his hand.
BUDDY (V.O.) (cont'd)
Don't matter to me what the mayor thinks,
she was no stranger to logging. Little
Jimmy was my biggest fan, and today he
had a fan of his own, a 'pocket fan' he
called it, real handy when things get
hot.
DETAIL of the pocket fan.
BUDDY (V.O.) (cont'd)
Normally I don't pay much attention to
the kid, but today he had a story that
hit me like a sack of coffee beans. It
seems that the mad professor on the hill,
Windy Macgillicuddy, had invented this
device at the behest of one J.
Spurlington Peaches, the richest man in
town. There was no mystery in that --
Spurlington was known to have a bad case
of the sweats. Something was eating his
conscience and he was desperate to cool
it off. The professor could help, but
the professor was missing.
Buddy takes the fan and pats Jimmy on the back.
INT. MANSION OF J. SPURLINGTON PEACHES - DAY
Sculptures and elaborate floral displays suggest an opulent
sitting room. Buddy sits in the middle of a big couch with
his hat held between his legs.
BUDDY (V.O.)
Normally I don't pay much attention to
Jimmy, but today I could hug him. He got
me a case, and he got me a good one.
J. SPURLINGTON enters, every bit the dandy. Buddy shows him
the fan. Spurlington starts talking.
BUDDY (V.O.) (cont'd)
It seems all was not roses at the Peaches
estate. Spurlington was still sore about
what I did for his friend, the mayor, but
he promised to make everything all right
if I could just find the professor.
Buddy looks through an open doorway and catches a glimpse of
WENDY, this story's dizzy dame.
BUDDY (V.O.) (cont'd)
It wasn't just the speech he had to give
at the Association of Magnates and
Tycoons, it was the affections of the
professor's daughter, Wendy. Wendy had
grown up fast since last I saw her, and
she made a mean impression. Some dames
are born dizzy, some achieve dizziness,
but guess in Wendy's case it was the
third kind, dizziness by nurture.
INT. PROFESSOR LAB - DAY
Buddy and Wendy enter. Wendy points around the lab at
various clues, a spilled beaker, a dropped lab coat, a half
built fan.
BUDDY (V.O.)
There had been a minor struggle, but
everything was pretty much intact and
there was no blood. I asked Wendy if the
professor had any enemies. I asked her
if anything was missing.
Wendy points at a coat hanger.
INT. BAR - NIGHT
Buddy drinks.
BUDDY (V.O.)
Spurlington wasn't the only one who
wanted that special, air-conditioned
coat, or that was what the kidnappers
wanted me to think. No one knew anything
at the lowlife dives and it started to
look like my night was going to end up in
dregs.
Jimmy enters. The BARTENDER tries to throw him out but Buddy
talks down the Bartender. Jimmy hands Buddy a note with
childish scrawl.
BUDDY (V.O.) (cont'd)
A left-handed ransom note asking a
million bucks for the professor's safe
return. Somebody didn't want their
handwriting recognized.
EXT. BAR - NIGHT
Jimmy leads Buddy to a payphone, then runs off. Buddy hears
a ring, and answers.
BUDDY (V.O.)
I knew the voice right away. It was the
professor. He said he was safe and sound
and that the goons who were keeping him
company were the serious type, so pay up.
Sound of a train whistle and clattering on the tracks.
BUDDY (V.O.) (cont'd)
What he didn't say, but what I heard, was
the one a.m. outta town blow its mournful
horn. There was only one place in this
naked city where that dirge of a eulogy
rings so cold and clear: the old train
depot.
INT. OLD TRAIN DEPOT - NIGHT
Any large, dark, and scary area will do.
BUDDY (V.O.)
A lot still didn't add up. Why did the
professor call me? Why did the goons
give Jimmy the note and not Spurlington?
And why kidnap the professor and his coat
when kidnapping Wendy and her long,
fishnet-stockinged legs would've netted
more bread?
In the middle of the space, in a pool of light with shadows
all around, the PROFESSOR sits, tied to a chair.
BUDDY (V.O.) (cont'd)
The answer is there weren't any goons.
Gunshots fired. Buddy dives for cover.
He sneaks behind some boxes, coming up on where the gunshots
originated. It's...
BUDDY (V.O.) (cont'd)
It was only little Jimmy with a cap gun.
Which he stopped firing when he saw I was
alone.
The professor stands and winks at Buddy.
BUDDY (V.O.) (cont'd)
The whole thing was a set-up to get me
back in Spurlington's good graces.
Wendy steps from the shadows. She shares a longing look with
Buddy.
BUDDY (V.O.) (cont'd)
Even the dame was in on it. There was no
doubt about the nurture bit, Windy raised
Wendy to be one clever cookie.
INT. MANSION OF J. SPURLINGTON PEACHES - NIGHT
Wendy hugs the Professor in front of a beaming J.
Spurlington, who shakes Buddy's hand.
BUDDY (V.O.)
If I was a punning man, I'd say that
everything was peaches with me and J.
Spurlington.
Wendy moves from her father to hug Buddy, whispering
something sexy in his ear out of the view of Spurlington and
the Prof.
BUDDY (V.O.) (cont'd)
For now, at least.
FADE OUT.
This work is licensed under a Creative
Commons Attribution 2.5 License.