PINOCCHIO

                                                                                                                                  Word count is 2905

PINOCCHIO

in the style of Law & Order: Criminal Intent



In Tuscany’s war on crime the worst criminal offenders are pursued by

the detectives of the ‘Maggiori’ Case squad.  This is one of their stories.

*******

Two figures struggle to hold on to a capsized boat on a river, the lights from the city illuminate the name “Monstro” on the boat’s backside in the dark.  One is a young man with a boyish look and the other is a very old man.  The elder, looks down the river to where the current is pushing them – straight at a bridge piling.  “We need to swim to shore” he says, as he lets go of the boat.  “Now!” he calls back when his companion does not move. 

“I’m trapped – I can’t get my foot loose” the teenage boy says.  The boy dives his head under water to see his foot wedged beneath the boat ladder.  The older man swims over to him and helps pull at the entrapped leg, without any luck.  The man is able to wrench a section of trim from the boat and hands it to the boy, “Break it free” he says. 

The boy whacks the piece of wood against the aluminum ladder with all the force he can muster. Hitting it repeatedly until the ladder finally gives way. The “Monstro” begins to sink, trying to take them down. The older man nearly drowning says “Save yourself, swim to shore.” 

The younger boy grabs the man and tries to swim to shore, but in the process, bumps into the side of a bridge and they are caught in a current which washes them apart.  Again the old man says “Save yourself son”, and struggles to keep his head above water.  The boy floats and watches his father struggle to the shore.  He does not see the boulder’s jagged edge above the river’s waterline as he is pushed onto it.

*******

“The Father says the last time he saw the boy was in the morning when he left off for school.” the tall male said, as the two detectives stood outside the stone plastered façade of a rustic looking shop front.  A small unassuming wooden hung outside reading Geppetto – Toymaker.

“So the boy goes off to school and is never heard from again?  No phone calls, no carrier pigeons, no village gossip?” asked his petite partner in crime fighting.

“That’s the old man's story, and his story stinks. In fact it smells as rotten as the sewage in Venice on a summer’s day.” Detective Goven said, as he holds open the large wooden door with wrought iron handles for his female companion sleuth.

“Well, maybe we will have to flush the sewage out of this case."  Detective Eames quipped.  They went inside the Toy Shop.



“Hello sir,” the male detective greeted the hobbled old toy maker that approached them “I’m Detective Goven and this Detective Eames.”  They all nod in acknowledgments.

“We understand that your son is missing?”  Goven follows-up.

“Yes, my boy is missing, I have not seen him in two days.  My poor, poor Pinocchio.”

“We are sorry to hear that. And Mr. Geppetto, how old is you son?”

“Let’s see… I carved him myself last week, so...”

“Carved him?  You carved your son?”

The two detectives flinched and frowned at each other.

“Ya, carved him just like all the other puppets I’ve carved.” waving his hand around the toy shop.

“Hold up, hold up, first you say he’s a boy, then you say he’s a puppet.  So what is he?” Detective Goven asked in a raised voice.

“He’s a puppet and a boy.”

“A wooden puppet that’s a boy?” Goven asked.

“Not a ‘real’ boy.  A wooden boy.  The kind that walks and talks… and you’d think would also float.” Geppetto answered, mumbling the last part to himself.

“Mr. Geppetto, are you on any medication? That you may have forgotten to take?” Detective Eames asked with concern in her voice.

“No, no. You aren’t part of the narcotics squad are you?” the old man asked looking around nervously.

Detectives Goven and Eames exchange glances, and Goven starts to wander around the shop as Eames continued to question Geppetto.

“Is there anything else you can tell us about your son, Mr. Geppetto?” asked Eames.

“Well, he’s a very good boy.  And the fairy tells me he can become a real boy if he proves himself ‘brave, truthful, and unselfish’.  She came here after I wished upon a star for the boy.”

“I see and do you speak to the, umm, fairy often, Mr. Geppetto?” asked Eames.

“No just that one time.  She was beautiful though… I wish she’d come back.” again the last part mostly to himself.

“And so, you have a wish that Pinocchio becomes a real boy, but the fairy will only grant the wish if he can prove himself.  Anything else?”  Detective Eames opened a notepad and took notes.

“Pinocchio has a friend Jiminy Cricket.  Jiminy’s a good friend because he tries to keep Pinocchio out of trouble.” Geppetto offered.

“Is Pinocchio a trouble-maker?”

“No, no, no.  He’s a good boy, I tell you.”

“What does this Jiminy Cricket look like?”  Detective Eames asked.

“He’s about a half a foot tall, green with wings, and a very nice dresser.”

“Green, wings, nice togs, anything else?”  Eames asks.

“He likes to whistle.”

Across the room Detective Goven stifles a laugh.

“Whistle.  Who whistles?” Eames asks.

“Jiminy Cricket, of course.  What’s that song he sings?  ‘Give a Little Whistle…’  He kind of acts as a conscience for Pinocchio and that’s their secret call signal.”

“I see.” said Eames taking more notes.

“Are these made out of silk?” Goven interrupted holding up balls of string from the workshop table.

“No, they are a synthetic material.” Geppetto answered.

“Huh, I thought that traditional puppet makers used silk thread for the lead strings.” Goven threw out as if a question.

“You can use silk string or you can use synthetic.” Geppetto shrugged.

“Interesting, because I was just at the village well last week talking with that puppet master… umm… what’s his name?”  Detective Goven asked looking at Geppetto expectantly. The old man just shook his head.

“What’s his name?” he repeated.

“Stromboli.”  Detective Eames said.

“Stromboli, that’s right,” Goven wagged his finger and turned to Geppetto, “Do you know Stromboli?”

"No." Geppetto answered.

“He doesn’t know Stromboli,” Detective Goven says to Detective Eames “He is a puppet maker and he doesn’t know the town puppet master?”

“You need to broaden your customer base here, Geppetto.” Detective Eames suggested.

“I am just a simple toy maker.  I make toys that are durable. And people that like them – well, they buy them.” Geppetto said.

“And you use synthetic string because if you were pulling on strings you would want them to be good and tight, wouldn’t you?”  Goven asks.

“This is what I think, but I do not work the puppets.”

“So if I wanted to know more about pulling strings, I should go talk to Stromboli?”  Goven gives the old man a look.

“I suppose.” the toy maker said casually looking down at his worn shoe clogs, “I have much work to do here so if that’s all the questions you have.”

“That’s all. For now.  But don’t get any ideas about leaving Florence anytime soon, ‘capisce’?” answered Goven.

As they walk out the door Detective Eames stops and she picks something off the floor.  She shows them the burnt cigar butt “Is this yours?” she asks Geppetto. 

“No, not mine. I don’t smoke.  A customer’s perhaps.”

“You might want to discourage smoking around here, Geppetto.”  detective Goven said as he looked around at all the wooden toys.  “I’d hate to have to send out the arson squad.”



Outside the shop Eames paused and said to Goven, “Goven, this cigar – its just like the ones sold at Pleasure Island.”

“You go there Eames? To Pleasure Island?” Goven asked.

“Hey, I have a personal life.” she protested.

“Not like that you don’t.”

“OK, I go to keep an eye on the criminal elements.  And there are lots of kids there.”

She looked at Goven and held up the cigar butt, “Kids that get into trouble. Gambling, smoking, getting drunk - they make complete jackasses of themselves.”

“Interesting, we will have to stop by. Let’s check in with Stromboli on our way.” Goven answered.



“I saw him, yes. Three or four days ago, Geppetto came in here trying to sell me one of his puppets,” answered Stromboli the large, sinister, bearded puppet master was sitting backstage at his theater counting his money.

The two detectives looked at each other and nodded.

“But his puppets are no good, so I refused to buy them.” Stromboli boomed.

“Are they no good because of the workmanship?”  asked Goven.

“It’s the shoddy string work. I use only silk strings – they are light and airy – they make the puppet graceful. Almost like a puppet without strings.”

Goven took a turn around the stage, thoughtful, and said, “I took you up on your invitation, Stromboli.  After meeting you, I caught a matinee performance the other day.  It was very good.” Detective Goven said.  Stromboli smiled, so did Eames; for different reasons.

“There was a puppet there that looked so real.” Goven continued, “So real. It almost like a real boy.  Like you said, almost like a puppet without strings.”

“Geppetto told us about a puppet with no strings - a wooden boy he made himself.” Detective Eames added.

“ ‘Pazzo’!” Stromboli spat, making a twirling hand gesture up by his head signaling crazy.

“His puppets only make good fire wood."

“So, Geppetto didn’t make that puppet?”

“No. Stromboli would not put one of those crazy old man’s puppets on his stage. I have a cousin in Assisi who makes puppets and he made that one.  He does excellent work,‘sì’?”

“‘Sì’.” answered Goven.

With that acknowledgement, the detectives left Stromboli’s and Eames said to Goven, “Before we go to Pleasure Island I’d like to drop by the station and run a check on Stromboli’s cousin.”

“Just what I was thinking.”  he answered.





On the way to back to the police station, Detectives Eames and Goven stopped at end of the Ponte Vecchio bridge, to catch a bite to eat.  After ordering, Frittelle di riso from an over-exuberant sidewalk vendor, the detectives scarfed down lunch and chatted about the case.

"What do you think is Stromboli's tie in here?"  Eames asks.

"I think he is very exacting, and he constrains the puppet game in this town," Goven spoons a hot helping in his mouth.

"Yes, and I think he will go to any lengths to meet his own Stromboli standard."

"Even criminal acts?" questions Goven.

"Maybe...." Eames answers.

Their conversation was interrupted by shouting voices.  From what they overhear, two groups were arguing about the delivery of material, on the river at night.

One voice says "The fire-eater wanted the 'goods' to sink, and then he could he could quietly recover them.”

“That makes no sense, because it is useless, water-logged, and soaked, at the bottom of the river.”

“So, whatever,” the associate tapped his companion on the shoulder, “as long as the kids think its possible, we can make profits as the middle-men.  Let’s go see what Pinoch and company are up to tonight.”

Eames and Goven look at each other and she says, “This may be a missing report and not a homicide…”

“Let’s go downtown.” he said.



As they walked in the front door of the ‘stazione di polizia’ the desk sergeant stopped them “You should see the characters we have in there for you to talk with,” he says and points towards the interrogation room.



In the room sat two sly looking fellows, one reedy thin, the other squat and heavy.

“Yo coppers, I’m J. Worthington Foulfellow, my friends call me ‘Honest John’” the lean one said and put his feet up on the table reclining back with a crafty fox like expression on his face. “And this is my associate, Gideon.” His friend said nothing but gave them a dumb, wide feline smile and hiccupped.

“A pleasure to meet you both. Tell, me do you know a Pinocchio?” Detective Goven asked. 

“Don’t think so.”

“He’s a wooden boy – like a puppet. I’m pretty sure I saw you with him the other day at Stromboli’s theater.” Goven said.

“Oh yeh, the kid with the big nose who wanted to be on stage. Hi-Diddle-Dee-Dee, an Actor's Life for Me"  Honest John laughed to his friend who also snickered.

“You boys ever been to on Pleasure Island?”  Detective Eames asked.

“Nope. Never.”  Honest John said and looked at Gideon who hiccups again like he’s coughing up hair balls and shakes his head no.

Detective Goven reaches over to Honest John’s jacket pocket and lifts out a pack of matches embossed with the Pleasure Island logo.

“OK so I’ve been, what of it?”

“We think Pinocchio was there the night he disappeared.  Did you see him?” Goven asked. 

“Nah, haven’t seen that kid for days.”

“Did you ever take him to Pleasure Island?” Goven asked. 

“I got better things to do that hang out with puppets.  Isn’t that right?”  his friend Gideon yawned his agreement.

“We think Pinocchio was tricked into going there and we want to know who did it.” Goven said.

“Had to be Lampwick.  Now there’s a dishonest one, man, always leading Pinocchio astray.  He probably convinced him to go to Pleasure Island.” Honest John looked nervous.

“We’ve talked to Lampwick already and his alibi seems to check-out.” Detective Eames replied.

“Can I cut a deal with you?” Honest John asked with his beady eyes squinting at them.

“I don’t know, Honest John , what do you have to share? Detective Goven replied.

“It’s the owners.”

“The owners of Pleasure Island?”

“They turn these kids into jackasses, and then literally sell the donkeys to work in the local salt mines. And the boys, man, they just disappear.”

“I wonder who’s behind an operation this big?” Detective Eames asked. 

“It’s the coachman.” Detective Goven speculated.

“Yeh, man, he owns and operates Pleasure Island. And he makes sure the kids have a way of getting there without their parents knowing. Brilliant?” Honest John laughs again.

Goven turning to Eames, “Let’s get down there.”

“You can’t miss him, he’s the only chap in Florence that speaks in a Cockney accent.” Honest John offered.



After crossing the Orno river, Detectives Goven and Eames walked up the embankment towards Pleasure Island.  The sound of sirens rang across the water as police cars moved in to breakup the operation. Geppeto was standing on the hill looking towards the chaos.

“Mr. Geppeto?” Detectives Goven called out.

“What brings you here tonight?” Detectives Eames asked.

Geppeto turned his sad face towards them.  “I have a confession. That night Pinocchio disappeared, I had him locked in his room but he managed to escape and come back again to Pleasure Island.  I was distraught and went in search for him. I found him here and was taking him home, but when we tried to make it back across the river - I think my Pinocchio drowned.  I searched everywhere for the body but finally had to return home alone.  My poor, poor Pinocchio.” Geppeto said weeping.

“Why didn’t you tell us this before?  You know we're going to have to book you now for filing a false police report?” Detectives Goven yelled.

“Well, at least, other kids will be safe now.  We should call in and have the river dragged.” Detectives Eames said looking backwards.

At that point, they heard braying and shouting as two young characters came racing up to them.  Lampwick had been completely transformed into a donkey but Pinocchio was recognizable with only a donkey's ears and tail.

“ Pinocchio!” Geppeto shouted with joy.

“Yo, papà ” Pinocchio answered him back in a drunken voice.

“Son, my Pinocchio.  I am so happy you are alive. We must go home and celebrate with Cleo and Figaro.” Geppeto exclaimed.

“Maybe later dude.  I’ve got a party to go to first, right Lampie?”

His friend brayed his enthusiasm.

“But Pinocch, why?” Geppeto asked, “why?” whispered quietly.

“Papa, its just part of the business, capisce?  I’m trying to make it possible for us to get the good stuff, and you and I will have a ‘real’ life forever…”

Now Pinocchio says loudly, “Hey man, you can’t tie me down. I've Got No Strings on me," yelled as he ran off after Lampwick with their tails wagging.

“I don’t mean to offend you sir, but it looks like your son’s turned into an ass.” Detective Goven said.



“I’m thinking we should put some time into tracking down that Jiminy Cricket character so Pinocchio gets his conscience back.” Detective Eames added.

“At least he’s still alive and maybe someday he’ll be a real boy.” sighed Geppetto.

*******

As the detectives walked away.  Goven said “What I still don’t understand is - who’s writing this stuff nowadays?  Don’t they know that in a tele crime drama the victim is never found alive!?”

“I don’t know either.  The writing has never been the same since Disney bought up a broadcasting company.”

“Well, next time I wish they’d give us a body.” Goven complained.

"Maybe next time you should Wish upon a Star." Eames suggested.

Alla fine.