Georgia is belting out a tune as Bert Haber plays piano at a swanky nightclub.  And she’s pretty dang good.  For a change, a singer on TV that I would pay to see.  But I went to see Bob Dylan this week, so my judgment is not to be trusted.

Infamous gangsta Little Dandy Dorf enjoys her just as much as me.  He sends a couple of martini’s up to the stage which strikes me as stupid:

1. You don’t want a great singer slurring her words.
2. Is she supposed to drink them on stage?
3. Why did he send two?  Was he going to join her on stage?

Georgia walks away, leaving the drinks on the piano with no coasters.  The diminutive Dorf is highly insulted by her snub and disregard for fine spruce.  Bert tells the bar owner Joey that Dorf has been “dogging” Georgia for two weeks.  Joey advises them to be careful.

Bert goes backstage to Georgia’s dressing room.  Apparently this writer is too smart for me:

1. Georgia refers to the owner as Bert’s pal Joey.  I get the reference, but I don’t think Pal Joey was a good guy.  The Joey here seems like a good egg.
2. Georgia off-handedly says to Bert, “I love you.”  He replies, “You’re key is B flat, not A flat.”  Someone please explain what that means.
3. She refers to Dorf as “the working girl’s nightmare.”  OK, she is literally a girl who works, but that usually refers to a hooker.  What does it mean here?

One of Dorf’s henchmen, who makes Luca Brasi look like George Clooney, comes to the door with a bouquet of flowers from Dorf.  They pretend not to know who Dorf is until Georgia says, “Oh you mean Little Dandy Dorf.”  Luca warns her, “He don’t like to be called Little.”  But Dandy and Dorf are acceptable?  She tells Luca to take the flowers back and “tell him they don’t smell — they stink!” Zing, I got that one!

As Georgia walks through the crowd to the stage for her second show, Dorf grabs her hand.  He stands up, showing himself to be a few inches shorter than her.  He is so persistent that she finally pours a martini over his head.  Bert runs to her defense.  There is a scuffle and Dorf falls to the floor.  He, Luca and Clemenza beat it out of the club.  Bert goes to the bar and orders a double.  A well-dressed goon tells him Mr. Dorf recommends he buy some insurance.

The next night, Georgia does not show up at the club.  A detective calls Bert over to his booth.  He asks for identification of a photo.  It is a photo of Georgia dead in an alley.  The detective interrogates Bert for the next 9 minutes — an eternity in TV time.  Well, with that investment of time, there’s one thing Bert can be sure of — this is a real policeman!

After Bert tells the detective about the incident with Dorf, the detective offers him police protection.  He follows the detective to the police car.  Only after the car pulls away does he notice the other passenger is the guy who earlier suggested he might want to invest in some insurance.

It’s a long way to go for a quick twist.  That is often the case with AHP, but the journey is almost always well done, and the ending worth the wait.  The biggest negative about this story was unavoidable.  I would have been happy to see Linda Lawson (Georgia) singing, wise-cracking, or just standing around for much more of the episode.  Sadly, that was not the story they were telling.  This series sometimes has the same actors appearing again within 2-3 weeks.  Inexplicably, it will be 4 years before AHP has her back (that’s about 20 in Genre Snaps years, so adios!).

The 5’3″ Frankie Darro (Dandy Dorf) was perfectly cast as the little man who was used to getting what he wanted.  He was truly menacing in a humorless, entitled performance.  He leaves the stage about the same time as Georgia, and his absence is felt as much as hers.  Of the other men, only Luca Brasi was truly memorable (but not enough to recall his name).

The 9 minutes of conversation with the supposed detective went on a bit long between 2 ordinary actors.  But never once did I think he was not a cop.

Other Stuff:

• The Insurance Guy (Pat Harrington) was last seen in A Miracle of Rare Device.