Of the lot, the News printed the most striking picture: Holly, entering policeheadquarters, wedged between two muscular detectives, one male, one female. Inthis squalid context even her clothes (she was still wearing her riding costume,windbreaker and blue jeans) suggested a gang-moll hooligan: an impression darkglasses, disarrayed coiffure and a Picayune cigarette dangling from sullen lips did notdiminish. The caption read: Twenty-year-old Holly Golightly, beautiful movie starletand cafe society celebrity DA alleges to be key figure in international drugsmugglingracket linked to racketeer Salvatore "Sally" Tomato. Dets. Patrick Connorand Sheilah Fezzonetti (L. and R.) are shown escorting her into 67th St. Precinct.
See story on Pg. 3. The story, featuring a photograph of a man identified as Oliver"Father" OShaughnessy (shielding his face with a fedora), ran three full columns.
Here, somewhat condensed, are the pertinent paragraphs: Members of cafe societywere stunned today by the arrest of gorgeous Holly Golightly, twenty-year-oldHollywood starlet and highly publicized girl-about-New York. At the same time, 2P.M., police nabbed Oliver OShaughnessy, 52, of the Hotel Seabord, W. 49th St., ashe exited from a Hamburg Heaven on Madison Ave. Both are alleged by DistrictAttorney Frank L. Donovan to be important figures in an international drug ringdominated by the notorious Mafia-fuhrer Salvatore "Sally" Tomato, currently in SingSing serving a five-year rap for political bribery ... OShaughnessy, a defrockedpriest variously known in crimeland circles as "Father" and "The Padre," has a historyof arrests dating back to 1934, when he served two years for operating a phonyRhode Island mental institution, The Monastery. Miss Golightly, who has no previouscriminal record, was arrested in her luxurious apartment at a swank East Sideaddress ... Although the DAs office has issued no formal statement, responsiblesources insist the blond and beautiful actress, not long ago the constant companionof multimillionaire Rutherfurd Trawler, has been acting as "liaison" between theimprisoned Tomato and his chief-lieutenant, OShaughnessy ... Posing as a relativeof Tomatos, Miss Golightly is said to have paid weekly visits to Sing Sing, and onthese occasions Tomato supplied her with verbally coded messages which she thentransmitted to OShaughnessy. Via this link, Tomato, believed to have been born inCefalu, Sicily, in 1874, was able to keep firsthand control of a world-wide narcoticssyndicate with outposts in Mexico, Cuba, Sicily, Tangier, Tehran and Dakar. But theD.As office refused to offer any detail on these allegations or even verify them ...
Tipped off, a large number of reporters were on hand at the E. 67th St. Precinctstation when the accused pair arrived for booking. OShaughnessy, a burly redhairedman, refused comment and kicked one cameraman in the groin. But MissGolightly, a fragile eyeful, even though attired like a tomboy in slacks and leatherjacket, appeared relatively unconcerned. "Dont ask me what the hell this is about,"
she told reporters. "Parce-que Je ne sais pas, mes cheres. (Because I do not know,my dears). Yes -- I have visited Sally Tomato. I used to go to see him every week.
Whats wrong with that? He believes in God, and so do I." ...
Then, under the subheading ADMITS OWN DRUG ADDICTION: Miss Golightlysmiled when a reporter asked whether or not she herself is a narcotics user. "Ivehad a little go at marijuana. Its not half so destructive as brandy. Cheaper, too.
Unfortunately, I prefer brandy. No, Mr. Tomato never mentioned drugs to me. Itmakes me furious, the way these wretched people keep persecuting him. Hes asensitive, a religious person. A darling old man."
There is one especially gross error in this report: she was not arrested in her"luxurious apartment." It took place in my own bathroom. I was soaking away myhorse-ride pains in a tub of scalding water laced with Epsom salts; Holly, an attentivenurse, was sitting on the edge of the tub waiting to rub me with Sloans liniment andtuck me into bed. There was a knock at the front door. As the door was unlocked,Holly called Come in. In came Madame Sapphia Spanella, trailed by a pair of civilianclotheddetectives, one of them a lady with thick yellow braids roped round her head.
"Here she is: the wanted woman!" boomed Madame Spanella, invading thebathroom and leveling a finger, first at Hollys, then my nakedness. "Look. What awhore she is." The male detective seemed embarrassed: by Madame Spanella andby the situation; but a harsh enjoyment tensed the face of his companion -- sheplumped a hand on Hollys shoulder and, in a surprising baby-child voice, said:"Come along, sister. Youre going places." Whereupon Holly coolly told her: "Getthem cotton-pickin hands off of me, you dreary, driveling old bull-dyke." Whichrather enraged the lady: she slapped Holly damned hard. So hard, her head twistedon her neck, and the bottle of linement, flung from her hand, smithereened on thetile floor -- where I, scampering out of the tub to enrich the fray, stepped on it andall but severed both big toes. Nude and bleeding a path of bloody footprints, Ifollowed the action as far as the hall. "Dont forget," Holly managed to instruct me asthe detectives propelled her down the stairs, "please feed the cat."
Of course I believed Madame Spanella to blame: shed several times called theauthorities to complain about Holly. It didnt occur to me the affair could have diredimensions until that evening when Joe Bell showed up flourishing the newspapers.
He was too agitated to speak sensibly; he caroused the room hitting his fiststogether while I read the accounts.
Then he said: "You think its so? She was mixed up in this lousy business?"
"Well, yes."
He popped a Tums in his mouth and, glaring at me, chewed it as though he werecrunching my bones. "Boy, thats rotten. And you meant to be her friend. What abastard!"
"Just a minute. I didnt say she was involved knowingly. She wasnt. But there,she did do it. Carry messages and whatnot -- "
He said: "Take it pretty calm, dont you? Jesus, she could get ten years. More." Heyanked the papers away from me. "You know her friends. These rich fellows. Comedown to the bar, well start phoning. Our girls going to need fancier shysters than Ican afford."