BA Hammer Broadway Ch. 01

B.A. HAMMER - BROADWAY

NOTE: This is a straight mystery story. There are no sex scenes in this story. This is fiction. Any resemblance to any actual people is a coincidence.

The strangest thoughts run through your mind while you are falling from a high ledge. I had turned my back while talking to a weasel. I shouldn't be surprised he took the opportunity to end our conversation in his favor. We were both in the fly tower above the stage of a Broadway theater and had been discussing "things" that were making him uncomfortable. His solution was to push me into sixty feet of air above the stage floor. How did I get into this mess? I could see the obits tomorrow, "Thor" Hammer can't fly after all", etc, etc.

Maybe I should start at the beginning.

My name is Britton Allen Hammer, BA to my friends. I am a thirty-five-year-old former military M.P. I was a New York Cop until nine eleven. I enlisted and was made a military cop. When I got to Afghanistan, my Captain took one look at me and nicknamed me "Thor". It may have something to do with the fact that I am 6'4", and 220 pounds of pretty solid muscle. I hated the name, but the military doesn't really care what you like. I was "Thor" for my entire time in the military. You are what they say you are. I also brought many of the things I learned as a cop. One thing I did was to not talk much. The quieter I was as a big hulk, the more people would maybe underestimate me. I found it worked well in civilian police work. I brought it with me, and before you knew it, I was the "thoughtful investigator" for my office in Kabul. I spent a year solving minor soldier violations. That all changed when a Major was murdered in the city. The captain believed he was murdered by civilians. Since I had a good friend in my interpreter, Ahmad, the Captain decided to drop it in my lap. It didn't take us long to determine no civilian had anything to do with it. No civilian would talk to me, the huge American, but they liked Ahmad and didn't want the Americans to start shooting up the town. We had a bad habit of doing that too often. It turned out, the Major was dealing on the side, and Ahmad was told about the American soldier he was always with when he came to town. It didn't take Sherlock Holmes to figure out it was a partnership gone bad. We arrested him, and he was convicted easily.

That changed my Captain's outlook toward me. I started getting more serious cases. I was able to solve a few sensitive cases, and my name began filtering into the upper management of the M.P.s. This brings me to the case that changed my entire life. There was a mass murder in a small town near Kabul. Several older men, young women, and even a couple of children were gunned down in a open area. It made news worldwide and my team was sent in. Ahmad found several witnesses that told him it was an American squad responsible, but there was no way they were talking to us.

By checking the duty logs and talking to the entire company stationed nearby, I was able to narrow down the possible squad to a couple. One squad had a terrible reputation with two leaders with a hair trigger. The other was clean and had been here a year. My cop nose told me it was the first ones. Now I had to prove it. The break came when one of the Ahmad's civilians fingered one of the leaders of the first squad. However, he would not testify, and we were at a dead end. I turned in my findings and the authorities decided to quietly send the entire squad home early.

I saw the bullet-riddled bodies of women and children. It really didn't sit well with me to let them off. The more I was told to let it go, the more it rankled me. In the end, I decided the two leaders weren't going home. Maybe the rest of them were just afraid of their leaders, and did what they were told, but these two are cruel, evil bastards.

They didn't make it out of Kabul. The military wanted even less of that made public, but they made sure to get rid of me. It was quiet, but I was out, a dishonorable discharge.

After landing back in New York, I needed to find some work. The military made sure no police force would touch me. Fortunately, I had two friends that had worked with me in New York, and the military. Ed O'Sullivan, a lifetime cop in New York, and Lenny Pasquale, a friend from the wrong side of the tracks that was in Afghanistan with me. Lenny grew up in one of the "families" in the New York underworld. He had joined the military with me after 9-11. After his stint in the military, he came home to try and find work outside of the family. Even then, he was well-known around the city.

He called me one day. He had found work in a television studio in the city. He thought they had probably hired him for his contacts, but he didn't care. He needed the job, and it was a good job. "Hey, BA, how about coming to see me? I may have a job for you."

We met at a small coffee shop near his office. "BA, I know you are not going to like this, but Fat Tony wants to see you. He swears it has nothing to do with his regular business." Fat Tony was Lenny's "Family" boss. He was in the trades, the teamsters, and few other things. I didn't want anything to do with him. Considering my present reputation and circumstances, it would not look good even meeting, But, you don't really say no to Fat Tony.

"You're right, I don't want to see him, but I don't want to piss him off even more. Where does he want to see me?"

"You know, the only place he feels safe, the restaurant "Luigi's".

"Ok, call him and tell him I'm on my way." I headed to the restaurant. After entering, I waited until Fat Tony waved me over.

"Hello, Mr. Hammer, welcome back to the city. How are you settling in?"

He knew how things were going with me. He wanted to put the screws to me, and he was good at it. "I get by."

"I'm sure you do. I want to offer you a job." I started shaking my head, but he stopped me. "No, not like that. I know you would never be caught dead with me, so to speak." The man did have a ghoulish sense of humor. "No, I have money in a Broadway show. I do have some legitimate things going on." What in the world. Broadway was the last thing I thought he would get involved in. That is a good way to lose a lot of money in a hurry if you didn't know what you were doing. It was a good way to lose a lot of money if you KNEW what you were doing. He may be nuts, but I'm not saying anything.

"Like I said, I am a backer on a musical that will open soon off-Broadway. If it works, it might make it to Broadway. That's not why I need you. I believe my money is being siphoned off, and I want you to find out who is doing it and get my money back."

Of course, just shake the tree, and the thief and the money will fall out. No problem. "Anthony (Nobody called him anything to his face but Anthony) I know nothing about Broadway, or plays, or musicals. I wouldn't know where to start, who to talk to, anything. If "Thor" starts rattling cages, they are going to be gone in the wind."

"That would be true if you went in guns blazing. But you're not going in that way. I have a nephew in the production." Of course, he does. It makes sense now. "Chad is my sister's boy. He's a little fruity if you know, but, he's my sister's kid. What am I going to do? I want to send you in as his bodyguard. Everybody knows who he is, and I can slip you in without much fanfare. You haven't really done much since you are back, and nobody really remembers who you are." Thanks a lot, Fat Tony.

"Look, for you, I will talk to him. Have him come by my office." I was trying to get a PI license, and I had gotten an office in a not so nice area to have a place to go. Let's see if he can find his way there.

"Thanks, Hammer. I knew I could count on you." I left him eating his dinner, wondering what in the hell was I going to do at a play?

Chad showed up at my office the next day. He was a young man, maybe in his mid-twenties. Slender, five foot something. He was pretty. You could tell he did bat for the other team. I didn't care, as long as he didn't try to bat with me.

"Mr. Hammer, my uncle says I am supposed to see you. Do you know what it is about?"

"Well, he wants me to watch out over you while you are there."

"Why? Does he think someone in the industry might try to harm me?" I could tell by the look on his face, the thought had never occurred to him. It occurred to him now, and he wasn't happy. "Why me? Look at me. No one is going to mistake me for a gangster." He was certainly right about that.

I had to calm him down. "He really needs me to check on his money, and he wants you to provide me with cover. I am to be your bodyguard until I can do my job. You will need to help me with everything about Broadway. I don't know shit, and I will need to learn quickly."

"I can do that, Mr. Hammer."

"Please call me BA. What do you do in this thing?"

"Sure. I just have a couple of lines, and I am in the choruses. Just because of my uncle, but I'll take it. Our next rehearsal is tonight. I can meet you at the theater at six. I will introduce you to everyone. Come to the stage door and tell Tommy you are with me. Tommy is the man who watches the door."

I met Tommy at the door at six. It's a good thing no one wants to get in there, because Tommy couldn't stop a breeze from getting in there. He had to be a hundred and could barely walk. He told me where to find Chad.

Chad was talking to several people when I walked up.

"Everybody, I want to introduce you to BA Hammer. He is here from my uncle, and uncle wants him to watch me. I don't know why." Great, announce to the world that I'm a gangster here to threaten everyone. That ought to make my job easier. My size already had some of them uneasy, and now he added that to the mix. He introduced me to everyone on the stage. I will address each as I need to. No need to do it here.

A real winner came onto the stage, shouting. "Everybody let's get to our places. Who are you?" He was looking at me like I had just dropped out of the sky.

"He's with me. He just wants to watch." That didn't make him any happier.

"Don't mind me. I will go sit in the audience." I saw a couple of older men sitting in the seats, so I went to join them.

I sat down beside them and introduced myself. "So, what do you guys do here?"

The gray-haired old man laughed. "Not much, to hear him tell it." He was pointing to the director on the stage. "My name is William Henderson. I'm the producer, and this distinguished gentleman is the musical director, Wallace D. Thornton. I'm sure you've heard of him." I hadn't heard of anyone connected to Broadway since Stephen Sondheim, but why start there?"

"Sure, I've heard of you."

"You're too kind." He did look pleased with himself. Good. Maybe he wouldn't be as suspicious.

"So, Mr. Henderson, what does a producer do?"

"Please call me Willie, everyone does. I solve whatever problems these people can dream up. And believe me, they can dream up a few winners." Here is where I need to start. He was the man Fat Tony had given the money to.

I sat through four hours of real boredom. After they broke up, I called Chad over. "I will need you to help me with who these people are. Can you do that?"

"Sure, BA. You want to get something to eat, and I will tell you everything I know."

After we got our dinner, he ran down the principles.

There was the lead guy, Conner Woods. He was supposed to be a big guy in the business. Chad told him Woods hadn't had a hit in a while and was desperate to make this his comeback. The leading lady was someone he had heard of Samantha Knowles. She was a rising young actress in New York. She had been in several big productions, and he knew her by sight. The second banana, as Chad called him, was Thomas Mellon. He was a young man trying to move up in the world. Chad thought he might be willing to do anything to move up. The leading lady's friend was a young girl named Mary P. Smith. She was cute, and fresh, and Chad thought she could do the lead role if it hadn't gone to a famous person. That was the main cast. The stage manager was a crusty man named Robert Young. Chad told him Robert Young was a well-known stage manager, and he would be in charge of the production as soon as it opened. That left the director, the winner who had asked about him at first. He was supposed to be a famous director on Broadway. Of course, I hadn't heard of him. His name was Rutherford C. Reynolds. Chad said he has had many successful shows on Broadway, and his presence was what had made his uncle put money in. His last three shows had been very successful.

The next day I sat by William Henderson, producer, and quietly pumped him. All I really had to do was butter him up a little, and he took off. I sat for a couple of hours listening to him spill his guts about his entire life, and the problems with this show. I don't think I said more than ten words the entire time. People will go on if you let them, and I let him. I learned they had money problems, but didn't know why, exactly. They should have enough money, but they are always close. He thought the director was spending too much on designs and costumes, and the musical director kept bringing in more "experts" to help him with the songs and choreography. He was going to have to get an advance to do the marketing ahead of the opening.

I didn't know enough to know if this was normal, but it didn't sound like a way to run a business. The man I needed to talk to was the stage manager. Chad said he was the real boss in the long run. He knew everything that happened in this world. I think I will see if Robert Young had a regular hangout. Chad said most of the theater crowd hung out at "Opening Night". It was a club run by a former bigwig in the business who quit and started his nightclub. He name was Bobby Bagwell. I had heard of him.

I decided to see if Robert Young was there that night. I got there around eight and sat at the bar where I could see the door. Around nine, he came in and headed to a side door. I took my beer and sidled over in that direction. As I got to the door, it flew open, and an obviously drunk man staggered out. I sidestepped him and went in as he staggered out. It was a private room that had what you would expect. Pretty girls, a little gambling, and a big bar. The room was crowded. I went to the bar close to where Young was sitting. I needed an in with him, and I got my chance when a big guy came toward him.

"Hey, big man, remember me? The guy you fired last week. Why just because I was drinking a little?"

Young didn't look up as he said, "Wilson, if you ever want to be in another production, you will go home and sober up."

It didn't look like Wilson was in the mood to let it slide. He was a big man, probably worked on the crew, and looked determined to express his unhappiness with Young physically. Young stood up and faced him. He wasn't as big as this guy, but I had to admit, he wasn't backing down. He swung at Young as he arrived, but Young just stepped aside and let him lose his balance. I stepped between them and caught Wilson as he fell. "Come on, fella. It's about time you slept this off. How about I get you a cab?" Young nodded, and I took him to the front door, and gave him to the doorman. He knew him and said he would take care of him.

I went back to the private room and sat down on the bar. After a few minutes, Young came to see me. "Don't I know you? I know every person in this room, but you. But I have seen you somewhere."

"Yes, Mr. Young, you have. I am here to assist in the production with Willie." I figured they would believe that. They had seen me sitting with him for the last couple of days. "My name is B.A. Hammer." He shook my hand.

"Thanks for helping. I could have taken care of him, but he gets sloppy drunk. You are big enough to get through to that lug."

"You're welcome, Mr. Young."

"No, my friends call me Bob."

"Thanks, Bob. I was wondering if we could talk a bit about this production. You know more about this industry than anybody here in this club. I would appreciate any insight you might have."

He was just drunk enough to not think about what I was asking. He got another drink, and we sat at his table. He told me of his suspicions around the production. He wasn't sure who, but he knew money was flowing. It always flowed to get a production up and running, but this was different. He wasn't sure who it was, but it was one of them. I bought his round, thanked him, and headed home.

The next day I got a call from Fat Tony to see how it was going. I told him money was moving out, and I had a couple of leads. I would let him know when I knew. Chad told me they were going to have a complete run through today. I decided to stay backstage. I wanted to see how many people it took and how everyone moved during the production. I counted ten stagehands in the back, in addition to the cast. I had never been backstage, and it was impressive. They had the backdrops hanging from "battens' as Chad called them. They were hanging on cables that went up into the "fly" and could move up and down quietly and quickly. The bigger sets could roll on and off on each side as needed. It was slick. A fully furnished room could move off and be replaced by a park in a few seconds. I nodded at Bob, but stayed clear of him while he was working. The biggest surprise I got was finding a man I knew on the crew. It was Eddie. Eddie was a little weasel that I had a few run ins when I was a cop. Eddie saw me, too, and made sure he wasn't anywhere near me. I would have to squeeze that resource in due time.

It was then that I saw Eddie climbing a ring-encased ladder up into the fly. I guess this was as good a time as any to have a talk with him. I followed him up the ladder. It was high up there. I looked down between the beams that crossed the stage. The cables from the battens were laying on the beams, and it would be dangerous to leave the catwalk at the end of the fly tower.

I saw Eddie at the far end of the catwalk. He was working on a cable. It appeared to be jammed. I walked up behind him.

"Hi, Eddie, long time no see."

Eddie jumped and almost lost his balance. "Hammer, what are you doing here? I thought you were in the military, or something."

"I got out, and now, I am here wondering what you are doing here. You have never done a day's honest work in your life."

"Come on, Hammer. A man's gotta make a living. This is good work, and I have insurance."

"Insurance is a good thing, Eddie." I looked over the side." You never know when you might need insurance."

"Come on, Hammer, don't be that way." He climbed over the rail and stepped out on the landing that held the motors for the cables.

"Eddie, where do you think you are going? I just want to talk to you."

"What about?"

"You know whose money is paying for this production? Fat Tonys."

"I heard something about that. You know how gossip is." I climbed over the rail and stood near him. He was dwarfed next to me, and I could see he was very nervous.

"Yeah, well, some of the money is missing, and Tony is wanting it back. You know anything about that?"

"No, I swear I don't know anything about anything. I just work here moving the scenery around on these cables."

I turned to look at where he was pointing, and as I leaned over, he pushed me over the edge. This is where you came in.