Holly Krakowski was going on 78 years. She was a blue-haired, tall and statuesque lady of some refinement. The scuttlebutt around the hotel was that she was once married to a rich German general during the big war overseas. As the story goes, he was nearly twice her age, and when he was captured by the allies and imprisoned, Holly unscrupulously cashed in all his wealth and headed for America.
Some say she won The Pink Flamingo in a poker game from some local mobster by the name of Tommy Luchessee, but somewhere along the way she lost control of it to Frank, "Big Daddy Frank," Diderot, who made his fortune in the produce business and was a big time club owner. As far as I know, Diderot never showed at The Pink Flamingo, but Holly was most certainly minding the store for him.
Holly Krakowski spent most of her time running the gift shop, called The Over-Easy. She sold all kinds of paraphernalia, some of it pretty sexual in nature, some of it just plastic doodads made in Japan. At 78 years of age, she hadn't lost a step in her ability to handle the comings and goings of the hotel. She hired and fired staff at the drop of a dime, and if she had one rule, it was to always remain dignified, even in the worst of situations.
And so it was that Holly commandeered the police presence at The Pink Flamingo on the day after Big Tom Tunney was sliced and diced into a hundred filets during a hot, sultry July night when Big Tom was in the back of his cab with Lucy Sky Diamond.
"Get dressed proper," the young Officer Bryson growled at me. "I'm taking you in for questioning."
A disembodied voice drifted in from the front door. The words, "No, you're not," rang through the room like a church bell.
It was Holly, who appeared in the room as if out of thin air.
"That boy is clean as a whistle," she continued. "And as far as I can tell, Tom Tunney simply got what he deserved. So, I would appreciate it if y'all would haul that mess out of my parking lot, and let working folks get on with their business."
Bryson turned to face the matriarch of the hotel. He eyed her up and down with that same look of disdain he felt for everyone at The Pink Flamingo. But he knew who she was, knew she had connections far beyond the powers of the police force, and he almost sheepishly left the room without saying another word. Just as suddenly as my life seemed to be going downhill in a Red Rocket Soapbox Racer, everything came to a sudden stop.
Bryson and his cohorts were gone by noon, and all that remained was to find Lucy and somehow secure her safety. That never happened. Wherever Lucy was, no one knew or at least no one was telling. There were 83 rooms at The Pink Flamingo, and I think I must have checked every one.
Lucy Sky Diamond had simply vanished.
Tuna Milk ♫ Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds
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