A dream I had a couple of months ago....
It was late on a rainy Monday Night when I got the call. I winced when the phone rang. When you've been doing this as long as I have, you begin to *know* when it's going to be bad news. You see, being a private investigator gives you instincts that the average Tom, Dick, and Harry just do not possess. The voice on the other line was my friend Beth. She was a cub reporter for the local daily rag and always had the hot scoop. "Jen," she said with a sigh, "he's struck again." "He" was a criminal that we'd been chasing for months. "He" was an unknown who had evaded the cops with such cunning and skill that they had turned to me: Jennifer S., Private Investigator.
The attacks began several months ago when a little girl was found whimpering underneath a twisty slide at the local playground. She was scared, but basically unhurt. The attack was unique in that the only injury to her person had been to her hands. You see, her fingernails had been bitten and chewed on just enough so that they looked ragged. Almost as if a mouse or a small woodland creature had been nibbling on them. Her cuticles had also suffered quite a bit of damage. No doubt, it WAS a puzzle. No one had seen a crime like this, well, ever really. The young girl was naturally traumatized, but through her pain she was able to give a basic description of the assailant. It wasn't much to go on, but she told the cops that the attacker was old, had chubby cheeks, and incredibly bushy gray eyebrows. It wasn't much, but it was a start.
The attacks continued to happen as many as 3-4 times a week. The victims were males & females of all ages and all races. The police searched in vain for a pattern of any sort, but came up with nothing. The description of the attacker was the same from every victim: Old, chubby cheeks, bushy eyebrows. It wasn't until the assailant attacked a harmless 80-year-old woman that the police finally got the lead that broke the case wide open. It seems that the victim was an avid fan of the well-known and much loved news magazine "60 Minutes." She was overcome with emotion when giving her statement, but she eventually was able to utter the two words that would bring this case to a head. "Aaannnddy Rooonneeey," she croaked. She swore up and down that her attacker was none other than Andy Rooney himself. It was shocking to think that the gentle face and tender voice that we associate with that sweet little man could be some how messed up in this kooky case. How could the author of such notable works as "A few Minutes with Andy Rooney," "More By Andy Rooney," and "Sincerely, Andy Rooney," commit a crime of such perversity?? It just didn't add up. Nonetheless, the search for Andy began in earnest. It was quickly determined that for all intents and purposes, Andy Rooney WAS missing. According to the producers of "60 Minutes", Andy was on a sabbatical. Unfortunately no one could locate him. Andy remained on the lam, and the vicious attacks continued.
Up until about a month ago I was not directly involved with this baffling mystery. I had been following what had been dubbed as "The Hunt for Andy Rooney" mostly on TV. Without a doubt it was a case that intrigued many citizens of this fair city. We all had been walking around like scared little rabbits, fearful of every dark corner and alleyway. We had been reduced to a society that was distrustful of old men with bushy eyebrows...it truly had become a sad state of affairs. It had gotten to the point where you could feel the tension rise every time a man fitting Andy's description entered a room. Old, bushy eyebrowed men were being needlessly persecuted everywhere. I could hardly even look at my own Grandfather without feeling a panicky feeling in deep in the recesses of my chest. It wasn't until this horrible monster victimized a close friend of mine that I began to work closely with the NYPD and the FBI in an effort to catch the criminal.
Gina Perino was a minor celebrity in the big apple, a media darling if you will. She hailed from one of the city's wealthiest families. Famous for her ostentatious wardrobe and outlandish dancing, she frequently swanned about the city with a large posse of fabulous people, causing no trouble, but entertaining those who were fortunate enough to be in her presence. I was lucky enough to be one of those people. She called me one night sounding very distressed, and begged me to come over as soon as possible. When her butler showed me to her study, she was hysterically crying. I knew what was wrong just by looking into her eyes. Andy had gotten to her. She hired me immediately to personally represent her. From that day forward it became my sole mission in life to bring Andy to justice.
This brings us to this Monday when I received Beth's call. Not only had Andy struck again, he had struck GINA again. THIS was unprecedented. The attacks had become more and more frequent, but he had yet to repeat a victim. According to reports, Gina had been found by a policeman in the back of a large Uhaul truck and had been taken immediately to a hospital. He found her sitting in the back of the truck, rather leisurely reading a People Weekly magazine. She had apparently summoned him there via cell phone. Beth told me that she was refusing to talk to the police until I had arrived at her side. When I got to the hospital I was told that she had barricaded herself in a private suite of rooms and was being heavily guarded. I was led there by an extremely large policeman who bore an uncanny resemblance to Andre the Giant (may he rest in peace.) The look of horror on her face was almost too much for me to take. I knew though that I had to remain cool and collected in order to take in and process all the evidence. Little did I know we were all in for the shock of our lives.
Unbeknownst to me, Gina had been doing a little private investigating of her own, and had tracked down a man whom she thought might be hiding Andy in his apartment. She took a deep breath and began to solemnly account an incredibly upsetting and tragic tale. Upon her arrival at the aforementioned apartment, she was roughly pushed from behind into a dark hallway. A large brawl quickly ensued. Well, actually, a rather small girlish brawl quickly ensued. There was a lot of hair pulling, scratching, bitch slapping, and the like. Mid-slap she realized that the person she was fighting appeared to be Andy Rooney. In a desperate attempt to fight him off, she grabbed hold of one of his excessively bushy eyebrows. Instead of inflicting hair-pulling pain on her attacker, much to her surprise, she found herself holding in her hand a rubber Andy Rooney mask. She glanced up at her assailant, and realized in horror that the person she was sparring with was NOT in fact Andy Rooney. She was staring directly into the face of Danny Pintauro, former child star of Who's the Boss. (I must digress for a moment, as it was at this point that I lost my cool. At one time in my life I was very close to Danny. We met in the spring of 1990 in Washington DC at the Respecteen National Youth Convention. He was the celebrity guest and I quickly became smitten. We enjoyed an abbreviated but passionate romance. Okay, maybe not passionate per se, but we did spend one glorious afternoon at the Georgetown Mall, walking the near empty corridors together…his father following close behind in a red leather “Who’s the Boss Jacket.”)
After I recovered from the initial shock of the news, Gina bravely continued on with her story. When she discovered that her foe was a tiny little man who in all likelihood could be defeated in any sort of physical altercation, all the fear left her body and she began laughing. Unfortunately the laughter and mockery really pissed off little Danny P., and he began to chase her. The chase didn't last very long as Gina was quite a bit faster than he was. She ran nimbly down the street while he clumsily followed. She noticed an open Uhaul truck and quickly ducked inside, closed the door, and sat quietly in hopes that she had lost him. Not surprisingly, she had easily outrun him and was safe and sound. Unfortunately the door was locked, and she found herself held captive by the very Uhaul truck that had provided her sanctuary. She quickly called the police on her cell phone tried to explain what had happened. Fortunately she had the People Weekly magazine in her bag to help pass the time, as it took the police some time to find her.
Danny Pintauro was found very quickly. After he lost Gina in the "big chase,” he went on a crime spree of sorts, unabashedly attempting to bite and chew the fingers of everyone he ran across. Robbed of the anonymity that the Andy Rooney mask provided, the police had no trouble locating him. A media firestorm quickly erupted and brought on the trial of the year. Though there was much speculation, the motivation behind these senseless attacks was never made clear to the general public. Danny is currently serving 3 months in a minimum-security psychiatric ward. It was Gina's testimony that put him away. Andy Rooney was located a week later. He was found at a private Swiss hospital recovering from a facelift. He has since decided not to sue Danny for defamation of character.
