Denny Crane: In Fiction

[Mayday Malone]

A few months back I wrote, for eventual publication on a site, a TJ Hooker fan fic that features not only Starsky & Hutch but Denny Crane. Considering it's 1985 when it's set then Denny's still in his 'prime'. The story does not feature Hooker, thus it's called When Hooker's Away. The author's note follows this extract and I might give you the full story but you never...know.
N.B Carson is a man charged with raping but is trying to have Starsky, Hutch and Romano convicted


SIX
Two days passed. The both LA County and Bay City were awash with case. It was not often that the great (and incredibly young) David Carson defended a, well bum would be a kind enough word for Forsythe. But also the great (and sort of young) Denny Crane from Boston and the relatively young Crane, Poole and Schmidt. By this time Denny Crane had been married three out of his eventual six times (even by 2006 it was still a temporary number).
Although suspended the three cops had to write reports all the same and did so in Bay City. They were sat at one end of the room and over the clamouring of the typers they heard a kind of shouting down the corridor:
“Denny Crane, lawyer. Denny Crane, Denny Crane…hey good looking, Denny Crane. Looking for a lawyer, Denny Crane. Watch out there, officer I’m Denny Crane.”
Starsky looked across the desk at Hutch and Romano.
“I guess Denny Crane’s here.”
Then he did come in and held his arms wide as if welcoming them to Fantasy Island.
“Denny Crane!”
“Holy shit,” whispered Romano.
Denny Crane looked just like Hooker, in every way but the Armani suit he wore. He was smiling a lot (which Hooker sort of did) and was loud (which Hooker was some of the time).
“Who of you am I defending?”
“Er, us three, sir,” Hutch mumbled as the three cops stood. Crane came on down and shook each of their hands. “Forget the sir, I’m Denny Crane.”
“We gathered,” Romano said. “I’ve not heard of you.”
“You wouldn’t, we’re yet to open an office here but a guy I know. Barry Stone…or is it Larry? Is planning on doing so.” Denny laid his attaché case down. “Now let’s get down to basics.”
The three cops were in open mouthed amazement pretty much as they sat back down and Denny Crane took control. He outlined the case, outlined Carson (the son I never had, but then I would never want one like him, Denny Crane) and Forsythe (scumbag) and their defence:
“We’re going to hit them like George Patton would’ve!” Crane held a fist in front of him, and extended a thumb aimed back at him, “Hang Forsythe and break their defences, show that he’s nothing but dirt. That’s how Denny Crane handles things.”
Romano stuck a hand up and Crane pointed at him. “Italian kid.”
“Er, Romano…do you always refer to yourself in the third person?”
Crane shrugged. “Back in Boston I am a legend, people know me just by my name being spoken. You say Denny Crane to someone on the street and they’ll know who you mean.”
Romano shrugged and looked at Starsky who was still open mouthed.
“How can we lose?”

The lift doors opened onto the corridor of the top floor of the LC courthouse and there they were met by a phalanx of flashbulbs and shouts. As Romano, Starsky, Hutch and Crane began to shoulder their way through so began the words:
“Denny Crane. Denny Crane from Boston. Denny Crane, you look pretty. Denny Crane, divorced three times. Denny Crane, always wins.”
Finally they got into the courtroom and the doors slammed shut but there were press in here too and they began snapping cameras like cannons at Gettysburg. The jury was already sat and watched the three cops like they were creatures from another world (some would say they were in any event). There was silence as the judge walked in with the traditional bit done by the baliff. His name tag on the desk read: JUDGE RICHARD IRONSIDE.
“He doesn’t look anything like Raymond Burr,” Starsky said.
“Huh, Starsk?”
“Raymond Burr…Ironside, y’know.”
“Starsky, TV is bad for your soul. If I haven’t told you that already.”
“Yeah, like a thousand times.”
Ironside smacked his gavel more for attention than to silence Starsky. “Are we ready?”
David Carson said so and gave Crane a look. He was a creepy little bastard thought Romano, those wide unflinching eyes. Sat at the table with Carson was a smartly dressed Forsythe.
Ironside looked to Crane for confirmation. Crane snapped to his feet and said with a dazzling smile. “Denny Crane!”
“Sorry?”
“Denny Crane.” Crane waved a hand. “It doesn’t matter if you haven’t heard of me, I heard LA was a little slow.”
“This is LC, Mr Crane.” Ironside said crisply. “And yes, I’ve heard of you. Be seated.”
“Denny Crane.”
Starsky whispered to Romano. “This is a circus, my friend. A circus.”
Romano just nodded and wondered silently if he could get a job as a lifeguard after this was done.
“As there will be no hearing, we will get straight to it,” Ironside said and looked to the prosecution desk. “Mr Carson, are you ready?”
“Your honour.”
Carson stood tugging on his suit and swept past the table like a ship at steam. He passed the press box and stopped at the jury. He pivoted on his heel. “Ladies and gentlemen of the court, my client Mr Forsythe is an upstanding member of the public and has not committed any heinous crime here.”
“In a pig’s eye!” shouted Starsky jumping to his feet. Neither Romano nor Hutch tried to stop him, they were as angry as he was. Starsky pointed a finger at Carson. “He’s a rapist you ignorant son of a bitch! What about this victims? The one’s that lived! HUH!”
Carson held his hands wide as now Hutch got Starsky to sit and Ironside bellowed:
“That’s enough, Detective. Mr Crane, control your clients.”
“Denny…”, the Bostonian stopped seeing Ironside’s look. Ironside gestured to Carson.
“Thank you your honour. My client has been falsely accused of crimes in the past,” Starsky twitched glaring, “but he was continuously harassed by the three policemen you see sitting in the defence. Detectives Starsky and Hutchinson of the Bay City PD and Officer Romano of the LCPD. All have records but records blemished by what I would say are serious infractions. Virtually on the radar with the brass for their attitude and treatment to criminals.”
Behind the cops in the front row of the spectator seats were Corrigan and Stacy, Dobie and Sheridan were a little way down. It was Dobie who stirred at this, he knew better than most what Starsky and Hutch were like. Carson was not done, his voice jumped a decibel.
“These so called upholders of the law are nothing but thugs! Bullies. They have made the news for being rough with prisoners, for breaking rules and disobeying orders.”
“I wish to God Hooker was here,” growled Jim to Stacy. “Then again, have you seen Denny he looks like Hooker.”
“Scary. I thought they only made one of Hooker.”
“They are criminals themselves!” roared Carson slamming his hands down on the jury’s rail making some jump. Dobie stood and roared: “Hey! These men are the best there is in the state! You’re nothing but a two bit punk, Carson! How do you make your millions? By defending punks like Forsythe.”
“Thanks, cap,” called Starsky.
“ENOUGH!” Ironside banged his gavel and stood looking like thunder. “This is a court of law not a political arena.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Romano quipped.
“I’ll hold you all in contempt.”
“Hold him in contempt,” Romano stood and pointed at Carson. “Slanderous if not outrageous comments, that man is nothing but a glory hunting scumbag!”
“Officer Romano you will be sent to the cells below if I hear another word from you,” Ironside warned and then added. “Same goes for Captain Dobie and Detective Starsky.”
All three settled and Starsky whispered. “Hutch, why don’t you say something?”
“I’m storing energy, Starsk.”
“That’s what the smell is, huh?”
Carson began pacing the courtroom, circling the edge of the floor like a shark. This was him demonstrating why he was one of the renowned lawyers in the city if not California. It was beginning if not continuing to irritate Starsky, Hutch and Romano. A draught was also whipping up. Carson’s gesticulations were measured and his tones slicing. After half an hour he stopped and pointed to the three cops.
“Therefore, I would ask that the state find them guilty. That’s all for now.”
Carson sat. Ironside gestured to Denny.
“Mr Crane, would you please start the defence?”
“Certainly,” Denny stood pinching at his suit. He made his way to the jury and began to turn on his heel to address the court. As he pivoted past the jury he winked and said quietly.
“Denny Crane.”
Then he had his hands in pockets facing the rest of the court. “My clients are three upstanding cops, the best in the business…,” he turned back to the jury. “A cop I met some years back once told me that I had the biggest mouth he had ever known because I had been mouthing off to him after he flagged my Jaguar down. TJ Hooker was his name,” Denny produced a finger and wagged it. “Never let it be said that Denny Crane doesn’t appreciate compliments.”
Ironside interrupted. “Stick to the case, Mr Crane.”
“But of course,” Crane returned to the floor. “Consider this, John Forsythe is a criminal. His record shows as much. He has been known to rape at least half a dozen women and use paint on their faces as a signature. There were no fatalities but they were scarred mentally, three have tried killing themselves and two have quit jobs and remain at home a nervous wreck,” Crane paused at the prosecution desk, “BECAUSE OF HIM!” Crane whirled back to the jury. “He evaded justice, he evaded everyone that could possibly stop him from doing his sick actions. But he overstepped the mark last week by trying to get away from his seventh crime. He tried to escape and was caught. But lo and behold he was released on bail for a pending trial.”
Crane paused his face red, shaking his head a little. “A man who has raped seven women, considered a safe enough risk to get out on bail. Do you blame my clients for wanting to make sure he was caught and justice done? When he went to make money by robbing a store he fired upon my clients and was wounded prior to arrest. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” Denny leant on the rail, “my clients are the one’s that keep you safe in bed at night. The one’s who make sure your children get to and from school safely, the one’s who make sure you enjoy the freedom that we Americans are allowed to enjoy. Because these men make sure that punks like Forsythe are behind bars for all time.” Denny paused and leant over the rail for effect. “Denny Crane.”
With that he walked back to the table.
There was silence, Starsky was grinning and Ironside looked dumbfounded. Then he shrugged. “Court will take a break for half an hour before the prosecution starts his case.”

AUTHOR’S NOTE
Following the ‘hardness’ of To Wear the Blue with its splash of humour and certainly with that of the sequel, Revenge of The Mexican I had opted for this one to be more humorous than hard. Thus the title (when the cat’s away…) and certainly, it would have to be to have Denny Crane in it.
But then, watching series 2-4 of Starsky & Hutch (whether you like it or not…) I saw that humour and seriousness were intermingled evenly and coincided well. Episodes were sometimes all seriousness.
Also, in one episode of (I think) series 2 of Boston Legal Denny has to defend this scumbag who raped a young girl and is bragging about it and all this. You can see Denny’s face began to twitch (reminiscent of Hooker) and then he reaches into his attaché case and produces a gun which he uses to shoot this scumbag in the ankle. Accident he proclaims but it’s the closest Shatner’s gotten to Hooker in Boston Legal since I started watching it.
I am toying, whether the mood or enthusiasm dictates to me, one Hooker story featuring Robert T. Ironside (Raymond Burr’s legendary character), this would mean taking the story back to the late 60’s and perhaps continuing Hooker’s early days. I am also toying with one based in London. The thought behind this is that this is where I live and saying that Hooker’s been to Hawaii, Chicago and Mexico (in the series at least), perhaps he can go further.