The Godmother

The Godmother

by Charlie Fischer



Francis and two thugs sitting talking:



Francis: Pete will not take any narcotic unless the pain is so bad, he sheds tears. When he was first brought to the emergency room after being knifed, the only anesthetic he would take was to bite on his shirt collar.



Jimmy: The Don is a courageous guy.



Sam: Yeah, Godfather is tough as nails.



Francis: Tough he is, but he isn’t running the business; he’s been in bed for a month and not expected to be out in less than eight months making him less effective than a rusted piece. So, Jimmy and Sam-guess what! I am the boss. You work for me not Pete. You are my left and right hand Captains; are you good with this?



Jimmy and Sam (In unison): I am good.



Francis: Great sign this. (Hands them a contract and a pen)



Jimmy: (Takes contract and reads) Mrs. Bendini, what does it mean Top Secret?



Francis: What happened when Billy, The Monk, confessed to the priest?



Sam: That’s easy; Billy had an accident. His car was blown off the bridge during a big storm.



Francis: Top Secret is not having an accident.



Jimmy: Silence one who isn’t silent.



Sam: Here, all signed.



Jimmy: Signed, Ms. Bendini; I signed it.



Francis: Good. Now to make you more of a believer, read this.



Sam (Reads aloud): “Dear Francis: Certainly! You being boss is George. What you need is assurance that no member will be bothering you. Any trouble at all, let me know. Yours, Bernard Magnieseo Farentino,” Palermo, Sicily.



Jimmy: From Bernie, The Tractor, OK Mrs. Bendini. I have received the word. I am your most unworthy, lowly and humble servant. You nod you get action end of problem.





Francis: You know Bernie, the Tractor?



Jimmy: Yeah. Does business via the computer; if you don’t know the computer, don’t learn the computer, don’t be interested in learning the computer, and then don’t count on bein in the business of breathing.



Francis: Right, Bernie is where we’re headed here in America also. You guys know something about the computer?



Jimmy: Yeah, and will be happy to learn more.



Sam: Me too-happy to learn more, boss.



Francis: Good. My first job is to computerize our family. Every one of them will be computer literate or find themselves being a statistic on the coroner’s computer. What we need to do is communicate with our drug pushers, off track runners, prostitutes and pimps via e-mail. We’ll have web pages that will bring business our way by using pornography as a ploy business where we are able to contact certain possible clients for our more lucrative business. Can you dig it?



Sam: You explain plan, we’ll work it.



Jimmy: Right.



Francis: Good. See this? [She points out a computer desk with electronic equipment including a PC?]



Sam and Jimmy: Yeah.



Francis: Great now watch me. First I check on our site, Ladies of Lost Love, for subscribers’ names and credit card numbers. Here [she types on the PC] notice this list. Let’s take this one that I have been working on: William Johns, whose Visa number by inserting it into this data base software program reveals his address, home telephone, place of business, outstanding loans, and all this other data on him. He gave this data, not only to his credit card company, but his bank, Social Security Administration, employer and the IRS. Mr. Johns is rich and has a habit of using his card to purchase porno, alcohol, female escort services, massage parlor services, and expensive dinners for two. He has purchased expensive women’s jewelry, furs and other similar items through out the year. Now, watch while I contact him.



Sam: OK.



Francis: (Talking while she types) Dear Mr. Johns, we here at Ladies of Lost Love, have a discounted female home cleaning service. Since you implied it was OK to let you know of any sales we may have, we want to introduce you to our FHC, Female Home Cleaning Service. Our Ladies of Lost Love are more than happy to come to your house to perform an in house cleaning service at a sale price. One or more of our Ladies, for a modest fee will pay you a home visit to wax your lunchroom, scrub down your communication system, and dust off your personal items. Call us at 483-993-8766. Now push “send” There, that’s it.



Sam: I can do that.



Jimmy: Me too. Just put the card numbers into the software program and all the guy’s data comes up on the screen. When I see a prospective client, send the e-mail.



Francis: It’s that easy, but you need to send about 100 a day, and then contact the ladies on this list, watch.

[She takes out the list and types] This is a guy, Dan Wright, who, like William Johns, has a weakness for the ladies. Jean: This prospect, Dan Wright, (data enclosed) has received our invite and has expressed an interest. Make the follow up. Push “send” good. Now Jean will contact Wright with her explanation of her cleaning service and her charges. If the guy goes for it, she’ll pay him a home visit and perform the chores. Then you check that she deposits $100 into our checking account tomorrow. Got the idea?



Jimmy: Sure.



Sam: Sure.



Francis: OK. Now try it out. Here’s our Ladies of Lost Love membership list, a list of prospects that have been sent the invite, the list of prospects that have expressed an interest and the list of ladies currently available to perform cleaning chores.



Jimmy: Great. Dear Mr. Franks: We here at Ladies of Lost Love have on record that you might be interested in our sale priced items. Our FHC (Female Home Cleaning Service) is currently discounted. Our Ladies are happy to come to your place and perform their chores. They wax your lunchroom, scrub down your communication system, and dust off your personal items for a modest sum. Call us at 483-993-8766. Now, I push “send.”



.

[Men begin working-seen shuffling papers, typing, talking quietly barely heard by audience but obviously talking about the business at hand]



Enter two uniformed police with drawn guns.



First policeman: Freeze. You’re under arrest for soliciting prostitution, illicit gambling and perpetuating frauds on the American Citizens.



Francis: OK, OK. Put away those cannons. Christ, the judge will understand. Those are false accusations.



Second Policeman: [Looks over lists] False, heh? What are these men and women’s names all about?



Jimmy: Let me explain. This list is of women who want to launder clothes. This list of men is perspective clients who may need their shirts washed, and this list…



[Sam, kicks a table over onto one policeman, while Francis takes out a pistol from under her dress where it was holstered to her thigh and fires at the police who fire back. The two criminals run out, but Francis, though hit by gunfire, returns more fire killing both cops. She, holding a tablecloth to her bleeding wounds, runs out.] [Lights fade out]





__________________________________________________________________________________







[The lights fade up, but the bodies of the police are gone.]



Enter Vibes with a female detective from the SFPD, Detective Kathleen Osbourn:



Vibes: This must be the place.



Detective Osbourn: How can you tell? Is it the blood spattered about that gave you the clue, or the stench of gun powder, or is it just male intuition?







Vibes: Neither, I know this is the place because you look right at home. Go to it wolf hound; it’s your meat and potatoes.



[Vibes begins taking photos, while Katie takes notes and stashes papers in a folder to be used as evidence.]



Vibes picks up some lists and reads: Betty, Gail, Barbara, Susan, Molly, Tina, Vivian-this must have been an all girls school. Home cleaning services, hmmm. Why $300 to wax a kitchen and the same for dusting off TVs and computer keyboards?



Katie: The money charged isn’t for waxing kitchens, it’s for performing illegal sexual favors.



Vibes: Oh, I see; I thought maids must have joined a more powerful union.



Katie: Very funny, Magee.



Vibes: The Johns who hire these sex workers must be on the Fortune 500 list of billionaires.



Katie: Has anyone told you that your jokes are stupid.



Vibes: Sweetheart, my jokes aren’t stupid; I am. That’s why I’ve been called to help you cops, because I am stupid. In my stupidity, I just noticed that you stepped in some blood, but I won’t photograph it. Forensics wouldn’t find it funny seeing a policewoman’s shoe print in their evidence. [Vibes chuckles under his breath.]



Katie: Lord, that is blood. Damn! Vibes, don’t laugh like that. I won’t call your jokes stupid ever again.



Vibes: You must be afraid you’d put your equipment bag on some fingerprints.



Katie: You think that would happen?



Vibes: Experiment.



Katie: [Sees some ammunition (bullets)] Vibes, forensics will have work to do on these. [Puts bullets into a plastic bag.]



Vibes: Right! Some bullets like those may have had Jensen and Walker’s name on them.



Katie: Their name on the bullets. Good joke, Vibes.



Vibes: Jensen and Walker instead of Smith and Wesson.



Katie: Not funny.



Vibes: You have plenty of plastic bags; here, I lifted some prints. Shove these in one, and mark it-prints from the telephone-mark this one-prints from the toilet handle, and this-prints from the inside doorknob.



Katie: Thanks.



[Vibes performing more evidence gathering-tweezers and a plastic bag of his own.]



Vibes: I’ll give you this last piece of evidence, and you’ll be on your own. Here’s a long, long strand of









hair, a good source of DNA. Mark it taken from the bathroom sink.



Katie: Thank you. What are you doing now?



Vibes: Making notes into my recorder.



[Vibes moves to another part of the stage where he is more alone, while Katie is gathering evidence, taking notes and photographing another part of the scene, across the stage.]



Vibes: [Into recorder]: February 22, 2001. The prostitution ring, that makes contact with John’s by computer, has been operating under the name of Ladies of Lost Love. The front,a laundry service, must have reached approximately 600 possible client's PCs all of which I can hack into and discover the communication via e-mail after hacking into the PC located here.



Vibes: Detective Katie, did you lift any prints from the keys on this PC?



Katie: Yes sir.



Vibes: Good! [Vibes sits at the PC and begins typing in numbers etc.] I’m performing a hacking job. [Aside: Loop 432, …chi45, zone 34, Ladies 8837jj, of-+++, ``` of Lost```888 Love $$***###, loop f, zone^^^. Aloud:] I won the lottery; I won the lottery. Here it is Katie. Here is the e-mail address of 643 Johns.





[Vibes takes out his laptop and begins working on it.] (Should have a nice dramatic sound effect here of typing).





Vibes: (aside): Zone 4; string 00034, 343; loop 34522, loop 4432, string 3. OK. In like Flynn. Let’s see: Ladies of Lost Love, to dust your PC and answering device call: [phone]. [Vibes takes out cellular and dials the number-bell on telephone on desk in scene rings. Good. Detective, either this is the place, or these e-mails are from outer space. I have all the facts I need. May my Guardian Angel bless me. Never mention this hacking, or you’ll be back on the beat, Detective.



Katie: Mum is the word. Where did you learn such techniques?



Vibes: My 12-year-old nephew.



Katie: He should work for the military.



Vibes: I hope so; wouldn’t like to see him go bad. He may send a missile off to Russia.



Katie: A missile off to Russia?



Vibes: Don’t worry, not all 12 year olds can hack into the Department of Defense’ missile system.



Katie: My kid is a hacker too; he hacked our backyard fence with a Boy Scout knife.



Vibes: Kathleen, you are so lucky. Now, I repeat, unless you want to see your son needing to get work to help you out, do not, I mean do not breathe a word about seeing me hack into these criminals’ computers.



Kate: What about using what you learned about this case by hacking?







Vibes: You know that I can’t use this evidence unless I can prove I got it by other means.





I need to make a private call; would you mind stepping into the hallway?



[Katie exits]





Vibes: [Dials a number] Rocco, this is Vibes. I need to collect on that favor you owe me.



[Background voice-Rocco: Eugene, the Innocent, Vibes, what rebellion have you committed this time?



Vibes: No rebellion, but I needed to hack into a few computers.



Rocco: Did the DA find out?



Vibes: Not yet; Rocco: I need to devise a way to present the ill gained evidence, so no one will know I got it by hacking. Can you help?



Rocco: Suppose I found the evidence you have amongst the papers of a deceased prisoner? Charlie Petrino, an ex pimp, showed me how he got information on the made members of a Cleveland mob. He recently died. No one will doubt that Charlie had the info you obtained by hacking.



Vibes: Really?



Rocco: We’re even now, Vibes.



Vibes: It’s all set. This evidence, here, this ill-gained evidence, by hacking will be presented to the court as evidence gleaned from a deceased prisoner.



Katie enters: Vibes, Vibes, a Jane Doe showed up at SF General’s emergency room wearing a table cloth, and bleeding from gun shot wounds. She died just before the med techs reached her. Forensics matched the bullets they found within her to Officer’s Jensen’s and Walkers’ 9mm weapon.



Vibes: Those sweethearts won’t need to write any reports on how they put their assailant into the morgue, but we will.