THE STORY:

L.A. -- the lurid Lotusland of malevolent myth and far-out fable. That one fearful fall. Hear me hatch this story of the Hush-Hush holocaust.

My name is Danny Getchell. I hoard scandal skank. I heap hurt on Hollywood stars. I'm the edifying editor of Hush-Hush magazine.

I dish dirt. I create baaad journalistic juju. I juke the juvenile antics of silly celebrities. I try them in a court of public opinion. I've made millions of enemies.

I've got a corrupt corps of informants. My snitches toss me tantalizing tidbits. I buy off bellhops and busboys. I bug bathhouses and bordellos and wiretap at will. I'm the imp of infiltration.

Cal Kashner is my No. 1 snitch. Cal's a cop. He's corruption personified. He's contemptible and caustic and convinced that he's all calm charisma. Cal calls himself Cool Cat. He's the vulgar vampire of the vice squad. The LAPD loves and loathes Cal. He's made more enemies than I have.

Oct. 4: A breezy day in L.A. A fine day to dig up and distribute dirt.

Cal Kashner called. He left a message with my secretary. He said he had some information. It was one way-out wallop of dirt.

I drove up to Cal's pad in Coldwater Canyon. CalŐs Cadillac was camped out front. I bopped up to the door and rang the buzzer. It bzzzzzd and boinged through the house.

Nobody answered the door. I leaned on the lock and let myself in.

HOLY HUSH-HUSH HANNAH!

Dig it: Cal Kashner -- dead on a deep-pile carpet! Shockingly shot!! A fat corpse laid out in state!!!

The living room was wrecked and racked and tramped into a trash heap. Overturned ottomans. Chairs chiseled into chunks. Bookshelves bottomed-up. Sofas stabbed down to their stuffing.

Heaps of Hush-Hush dirt files -- scattered and skittered and blotting up blood by the body.

Scads of scandal skank. A victim with a score to avenge? Palpitating payback? A murdered man mashed to mulch by -- ?

I heard a floorboard squeak. A shadow shot out and sheared me. A voice shot out of the dark.

Her vibrating vibrato. The voice that made men childlike chumps and callow castratos.

"You're next, Danny. Unless you help me."