Description
Mystery. Intrigue. Murder…
Welcome to the gritty world of a 1940s detective, where shadows run long and motives run deep.
A woman with unfathomable eyes walks into his office. Her sister has been kidnapped. Her husband? Gone—along with the ransom money. The detective takes the case, drawn in by her beauty and tangled in her lies. As he chases the husband and the cash from the streets of Southern California to the dust and danger of Baja, Mexico, the truth unspools like smoke from a cigarette—and by the time he uncovers her real motives, it might be too late.
Inspired by the hardboiled fiction of Raymond Chandler and his iconic detective Philip Marlowe, I envisioned a piece for narrator and ensemble that would immerse listeners in this noir world. I turned to Timothy Decker—acclaimed author and illustrator of The Letter Home, Run Far, Run Fast, and For Liberty—to craft an original story in that same gritty style.
Told in the detective’s own words, the story is underscored by music that paints his world: a solitary clarinet theme introduces our hero, sultry motifs hint at the woman’s dangerous allure, barroom brawls erupt with cacophonous shouting, and ranchero-inspired melodies score his southbound journey into the unknown.
This piece premiered with the Definiens Project at the 2010 Fresno New Music Festival and received its Southern California premiere with the Biola University New Music Ensemble on November 9, 2010, in La Mirada, California.
Performed during the 2018 LunART Festival in Madison, Wisconsin
Liz Sexe – dancer
Buzz Kemper – narrator
Aaron Yarmel – violin
Brian Grimm – cello
Iva Ugrcic – flute
Kristina Teuschler – clarinet
Kyle Johnson – piano
Promenade Hall – Overture Center for the Arts
Text by Timothy Decker
My father always said.
Nothing good ever came out of the rain,
at least not in Los Angeles.
And she was obviously no good.
Not in that dress.
Not with that hair.
Not with those lips.
Lips that could pour lies like smooth, Kentucky bourbon.
But it was her eyes, that’s what got me.
I couldn’t read them.
And that’s what made me a sucker.
She said they kidnapped her sister.
To get the girl back, it’d take money.
A roll big enough to choke a horse and then some.
The family was good for it.
Old money from back East.
Boston Brahmins with deep pockets
and a need to keep off the front page.
When she’d reached L.A. she learned to never trust a lawyer.
Especially one that’s your husband.
He up and vanished with the ransom money.
So she found me.
Those unfathomable eyes and a lost girl.
Just the sort of things to get me into the right bar on the wrong side of town.
His boys weren’t as tough as they looked.
One punch and a nose gave way like an oyster cracker.
I pistol whipped another.
After that, they made nice.
They said he didn’t trust her.
Just like a lawyer, just like a husband.
They said he said that all she cared about was taking the cash.
That she had other plans.
It didn’t take much persuading to get his address.
It was morning when I reached his motel.
It was hot, even for Baja.
I checked my watch, it would get hotter.
He was right where they’d said he’d be.
Looking nervous, looking scared.
So I didn’t take my eyes off him.
You’ve got it all wrong, he said.
Is that so, I replied.
And then I got cold-cocked from behind.
So I guess I did have it all wrong.Hadn’t noticed being followed either.
I awoke to a blood-red sunset.
It didn’t take many pesos to find my pretty, American dame.
She’d driven to the marina.
To a ghost ship, as it turned out.
No sister, no money, no clues.
Just her hubby floating on the tide.
And I finally understood what her eyes gave away.
That I was an easy mark.
I was smart enough to find her husband.
To find the money.
And dumb enough to lead her to it.
To let her get away.
All I could think of was what my old man used to say.
That nothing good ever came out of the rain.
© 2010 Timothy Decker
Used with permission of the author
Narrator, flute, clarinet, violin, cello, piano sheet music
