Out In The Film Noir Night- With Richard Basehart’s “Tension” In Mind

Clare Moore Lopez (forget that Umbry/Jones/Martin married name stuff, that losers name stuff) had it all down pat about men, men and their wanting habits, their silly peacock wanting habits. Had it down pat from about sixth- grade and played the line out, played it out to the end. Maybe it was that San Diego father steps creep up to her bedroom, maybe it was that Roger at thirteen who went way too far one night (although after that she got to like it, got to like it with him, like it a lot, and later with other men for keeps), or maybe it was just hunter-gatherer generic men (although she would have balked at all that high-flying talk, she just called it sex hunger, and let it go at that). She, all, uh, fresh blonde, and please don’t call her a bimbo or dizzy blonde, that will get you nowhere, just took men, men one after the other in order and in line (she had read, read in some sex magazine that she was serially monogamously, hah), and took the next best thing when it came up, whosever number came up, even a cop’s, and she never looked back.

 After the war (World War II, if anybody is asking) Clare was kind of tired, tired of Diego, kind of men tired (for a minute) and grabbed onto this Walter Umbry that she was married to as her next best thing. He was cute, was a fresh-minted veteran, lived in L.A. had some dough, had a decent job coming up, and best of all was putty in her hands, she could cry sometimes the things she made the guy do, bring her breakfast, breakfast just so or else, clean the house, really clean it, and so on while he held down that night job at the plant. Jesus.  And about two days after they were married, once she knew the score on the guy and his silly dreams, his silly no dough dreams, she started looking for the next best thing. Started heading to the local gin mills in Malibu looking, looking for that next best thing.

Yah, and the next best thing, Benny Jones was in a gin mill, Peggy’s, waiting for her, with his beautiful new car, his spendthrift ways, his Malibu cottage, his sack of reefer, and his promise to buy her a fur coat if she dumped Walter. Easy pickings. She got her coat, her cottage, and her dope, plenty. Oh yah, and his name. Still, after a couple of weeks of Bennie and his whining about his ex-wife she got that wanderlust again. Not one guy, not any particular guy, until the cop, until Cody swept her off her feet. Benny wasn’t happy about her going out every night, especially once he had a friend check out whether she went to the movies every time she said she did. And Benny, being Benny and no sucker like Walter, once he found out she was two-timing him (or whatever timing it was) started to slap her around, slap her around a little and picked up a gun, threatening to kill her if she kept it up.                        

Well, what was a girl to do in that circumstance but once he put the damn gun down, and after she had got into her bathroom to repair herself a little, but put a couple of slugs in him, maybe six, and head back to Walter. Of course that was bad form as the cops, as Cody Martin, came around, to see what was what. She carefully laid it out to Cody (and his partner, Pedro, or something like that, some mex) that Walter, jealous Walter, don’t let that Mitty come on fool you hated Benny enough to do the deed. And it worked, worked for a while anyway, once she got her hooks into Cody, got them in bad. Yah, Walter took the fall, took the big step off, and Cody, beautiful Cody, set it up perfectly like only a very good cop could.  

After the trial, after the big frame-up, Cody, maybe in a fit hubris, maybe feeling guilt, maybe just tired of being a flatfoot, making little dough and having big headaches, pushed for heading them heading to Mexico and some easy living.  So they got married and headed south, south to Sonora, where the living was cheap, and Benny’s dough would go a long way. And they were happy for a month or so, yah, a couple of months and then Clare, Clare shopping downtown caught the eye of some local hacienda ranchero guy, Diego Hernandez Lopez, all Spanish dark and beautiful. And so old Cody started finding out that he was left to wait until she got back from the movies, the Spanish sub-titled movies a few nights in a row. And wondering, wondering if he should turn his back on her in her presence.