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TT Spalding - PI

By: thecelt



The second case for TT, and again, just for fun.

TT Spalding- PI – The Partridge Case

Maggie reminded me that I had a 3 pm appointment with a Mr. Henry Partridge today so I pulled out my trusty log book to review the client. What I had written there was in my own style and brought a picture of him to mind.

When Henry Partridge came into my office, I knew something was up. He was a tall, heavy set man with a balding head and a swarthy complexion. His hands were big: big and gnarled, showing a lifetime of hard work. The same could be said of his face. The face of money well earned. There was also the look of a man who had seen his share of hard times and bad breaks. It was the face of success over adversity. That showed in the beer belly that flowed over the edge of my desk when he leaned across it to snarl at me.

Damn! I loved this shit. I read it again and just loved the way the words rang out. This was one of the things I loved about my job. I kept a record of every visit and every client in this little tome. I was transported back in time to Sam Spade again. He was my hero, and the inspiration for my becoming a PI. Licensed right here in Richmond, Va. Maybe I would write a novel one day. Yeah, sure!

Henry was a client: the one that I told Maggie about last week. He thought his wife of 24 years was cheating on him and he wanted me to prove it for him. It was strange though. It seemed to me that he loved his wife very much, and he talked about her as though she was a saint and he was the sinner. I got the impression he thought she was forced into cheating by his own actions. I wanted to get to the bottom of that little scenario and asked for another meeting with him. He was due in today at 3 sharp and I hoped to get what I needed. Since I had already agreed to help him, this was more of a fact finding mission than curiosity. Sure it was. 

Maggie buzzed me right at 3 sharp to tell me Henry was waiting. I told her to send him in and, as a thought, asked her to join us. She knocked a few seconds later and opened the door, ushering in Mr. Partridge. He looked exactly the same as I motioned for him to sit in the torture chair. You know the one. Maggie moved around to one side and took the more comfortable chair there. She crossed her legs with a smirk while I watched her. Damn she had nice legs!

"Thanks for coming in again Mr. Partridge. There were some things I wanted to go over with you. Oh, by the way, this is my wife, Maggie. She doubles as a secretary and keeps me honest. I get a lot of female clients, you know."

I was trying to keep it light and loosen up our Mr. Partridge but it wasn't working. He just sat there like a slightly balding mafia hit man and stared at me. Well, what the hell. I'd just try again.

"You brought the information I asked for last time?" I asked. I had asked him for all of the credit card info, the bank account numbers and her cell phone number. I also needed the home phone number, her SS number and any schedules she kept as to meetings, work, and the like. All stuff I could use to track her comings and goings. 

"It's all here" he said as he handed Maggie a very large manila envelope. Seems he took me seriously and brought everything that could possibly be used. 

She took it with a smile.

"Thank you Mr. Partridge. We'll give you a receipt today before you leave and a copy of our license and bond to assure you. We will keep all information strictly confidential." 

It seemed that Maggie's smile and voice were more suitable to Mr. Partridge since he gave her a huge smile. He actually blushed a little when she smiled at him in return. Well, what have we here?

"Tell me Henry, may I call you Henry? Why do you think your wife is cheating on you? What has she done to give you this idea?"

Maggie had gone right to work. She was quick on the uptake and saw the response she got from him so she decided to ask the initial questions. I was content and sat back to watch a pro work. And pro she was. She always made me feel like the employee and her the boss. She was my pride and joy! 

"Connie, my wife, has always been very shy. She never did go out much and she was a great mother to our children. We have four, you know. I have one son who is a dentist and another son who is doing his residency in the hospital here in town. The other two, both girls, are still in college. They want to teach, both of them. They're great kids and it's all because of Connie. She did a great job. It was really special for us since neither of us ever finished High School. So you see?"

Henry seemed to be lost in a memory for a while as Maggie tossed me a look. It said, get some coffee or something before this guy goes to sleep. Maggie was not very sentimental when it came to kids. She never wanted any. So, neither did I. 

"Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah, Well, I own my own company. We do preparation work. You know, we clear and grade the land for new homes or buildings. We get it ready for the construction crews to start. A lot of those big yellow bulldozers and front loaders and the like you see are mine. I make a good living but it takes a lot of money to put the kids through college. Not that I minded you know, but it takes a lot. Having two in college at one time means a $50,000 a year bill for me. That meant I had to work a lot of hours to get the money. I was working fifty to sixty hours a week and still am. That makes for a lot of alone time for Connie now that the kids are all out of the house." 

He paused to take a drink of the diet Pepsi I brought in from the cooler behind Maggie's desk. He took a deep breath and continued.

"Connie and I always had a good sex life."

Here, he glanced at me and then back to Maggie. I could see the flush spread over his face and down his neck. It was almost funny to see a grown Mafia type sitting here in my office, embarrassed to death to be talking about sex with his wife. It was a riot but sort of sad too, since it was now very clear that this man loved his wife.

"I'm sorry to be talking about this but it's important. We made love you know. Not that kinky stuff these kids do nowadays. We made real love. Twice a week, sometimes more. I thought Connie liked what we did but maybe I was wrong."

He stopped to take another drink of the Pepsi and I saw him casually wipe away a tear when he thought we didn't notice. I saw Maggie and damn if there wasn't a tear there too! My Maggie, the hopeless romantic! I thought this was worth a ribbing or two before my better judgment kicked in. More likely, this could lead to some hot sex later if I played my cards right.

"Has your love life changed recently Mr. Partridge? Is there something different that you noticed? Anything at all?"

"Yes, it's very different. She has wanted to have more sex lately and when we do have sex, it's really hot. I mean, you know, ah, very, sort of more, intense. She wants to try different things now and she wants me to be more, ah, 'aggressive' is the word she uses. I mean, I don't know where this is coming from but it is certainly different."

This really did him in. He had spilled his guts and it had cost him a great deal. It was clear that this bull of a man was embarrassed by all of this and he was just barely managing to hold it together to tell us this. He must have thought it was important so he did it. I think that's what he always did. He did what was necessary. 

I glanced at Maggie to see that she was still watering at the eyes. She had been devastated by the hurt in this man's soul. I decided that I should take it from here.

"Mr. Partridge. What you have described to us is a classic case of the changes we see with cheating spouses."

I watched the pain spread over his face with this announcement so I hastened to try to give him some hope.

"But, it is could also be a sign that she's just doing some soul searching and trying to decide how she wants the rest of your lives to be. Remember, she lost her children now and she feels totally alone. You may be surprised at what we find." 

As I hoped, some light came back into his eyes. Maggie stood up and held out her hand to our client.

"Come on Mr. Partridge. Let's get you back to work and you let us take it from here. Don't worry. We'll find the truth for you."

Mickey Spillane would have been proud. 

After he left, Maggie and I discussed the case. We listed all of the signs of a possible affair: the change in behavior, the change in their sex life, his observation of her actions, and not much else. If she was having an affair, she was leaving very few clues, and the changed sex life was too much of a cliché. Still, we had to operate on the theory that she was having an affair and then either prove it or disprove it. That's how we operated.

I called Bruno Morelli this time since Polly took the last case. Polly was a better snoop, knowing a lot more about electronics, but Bruno was a brute force man. He was good at watching, waiting and then acting. He would watch until he established a pattern of behavior, he would wait to confirm what he suspected and then he would act by getting the evidence. We had never failed with Bruno. His method produced irrefutable evidence in several court cases. He and Polly were good friends and never minded sharing the cases. 

When we gave everything to Bruno, he listened to the tape of our conversation with Mr. Partridge and just shrugged his shoulders. 

"Doesn't sound like much to me. I'll watch the Missus, see if she is meeting anyone and then I'll get the goods if there are any to get. How much time do I have?"

"You have a week to start and then another week if you see something. OK?"

"You got it boss. I'll start first thing tomorrow. Anything happens, it'll start after he goes to work."

So, the case was active. We were in business.

Friday afternoon, exactly one week later to the hour, Bruno walked in the door to my office with a grin on his face. I was not surprised. He generally worked this way: nothing while he was in the field and then, "Hi, Boss".

"OK Bruno, what've you got?"

"Well, there is definitely something funny going on. I spent the whole week outside her place and I watched this guy go in three times: Monday, Wednesday and today. Just like clockwork. He got there at 1:15 each day and left at 4:20 or thereabouts each day. Same guy, same time and same place. Awfully funny and awfully stupid for a cheater."

"Who is this guy? You must have done something besides just sit on your ass outside the house. You're too good at patterns to just let them go by without doing something. What'd you do?"

"Hah! You know me too well. I ran the plate on his car and found out who he is. His name is William Price. Lives here in town on the upper north side. Good neighborhood. Not married and lives alone. At least, that's what it says on the lease for his apartment."

"OK, so we know who he is. What does he do for a living? Did you find that out?"

"Of course. That's what you pay me the big bucks for. He works for the city as an inspector for building permits. He travels all over but never misses his time with the Mrs."

"So, any idea of what's going on in there?"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. You want me to get pictures?"

I considered. I had told Mr. Partridge the cost and we had agreed on the initial $500 only. I needed to call him and ask him. So, while Bruno waited, I called him at work.

"Hello, Mr. Partridge, it's TT Spalding. Yeah, it's me. Listen, do you know a man by the name of, . . . William Price?"

"No? OK. Well, listen Mr. Partridge. Huh? OK, Henry. We have proof that Mr. Price is visiting your home in the afternoons but we don't know what's going on inside."

"Well, we don't like to assume anything Henry. What I'd like to do is get you the proof in pictures and do the report for you so you'll have everything you need if you want to do something about it."

"Yeah, we can but it will cost as we discussed. Right, the 3 grand. You're OK with that?"

"OK. Yeah, goodbye."

I turned to Bruno and gave him the thumbs up. He had the go ahead to go after pictures. He smiled, thinking of the $800 he would earn and left. I knew it was in good hands. As I said, Bruno was a real mechanic when it came to stuff like this. More focused and less emotional than Polly, but just as good. 

I told Maggie later that evening about what Bruno had found and she just shook her head back and forth. I knew what she was thinking. Why would this bitch cheat on such a good man. I agreed but I wasn't ready to throw in the towel just yet. We had only what Bruno saw. Nothing more. Yet!

After this week, Maggie and I both had the urge to make quiet passionate love with each other. We went to bed Friday night, made love gently and sweetly and fell asleep in each other's arms.

We both woke up Saturday morning horney as hell. I awoke to the wonderful feelings of a warm, soft mouth on my morning hard on. I had to admit, waking this way was much better than the alternative. Maggie noted me awake and smiled up at me as she continued to work me into a frenzy. When my hips started to move frantically, trying to shove myself down her throat, she pulled away and quickly crawled up my body until she was face to face with me. 

"No you don't big boy. I want that thing inside me now. You do right by your woman, you hear? Right this very minute!"

Smiling, I felt her hand move down to my erection and guide it into her warm wet crevice. The one between her legs this time. 

Her mouth was great and she was very talented but this was more like it. This allowed me to look at her wonderful body, her tits hanging within reach, her face showing her pleasure and her hips moving up and down as I watched. This had to be what it was like in paradise. This was what it was all about. Sex with the woman you loved. Nothing better. In my line of work, I knew that for a fact. I told her exactly that and she rewarded me by moving faster and presenting her tits for my feeling pleasure. So I did: I felt her tits and gave myself great pleasure.

Maggie was now ready to explode so I grabbed her hips as she placed her hands on my shoulders to steady herself. I watched as she rose up and then slammed back down, her tits swinging wondrously. God, what a vision! I helped her establish a rhythm and closed my eyes to better enjoy. She was moving now faster and faster and driving down as far as she could and then grinding onto my groin. I pulled her tighter on each stroke and felt her muscles begin to grip tightly. She let out a deep groan, sort of like a sound of pleasurable agony, and then she shuddered and slammed down one last time. As I felt her walls grab and squeeze, I came with a mighty splash inside her. She let out a high pitched squeal and I knew she had come as well. 

For several wonderful minutes, we just held each other and gloried in our passion. I wanted nothing more out of life than this. I was content. Maggie groaned as she moved away to roll onto her back.

"Don't you ever cheat on me, you hear? If you do, I'll cut off your balls and make you eat them for dinner. I swear" 

"Not to worry sweet one. I have all I want. You are more than I had any reason to hope for. I love you to death!"

"Good!"

We spent the weekend with each other and it was great. Sam Spade would understand what I was feeling. He knew a good woman when he saw one.

Monday was a down day for us as we finished up some corporate stuff with reports and charts and graphs. Most of it was corporate intrigue that meant that we told them who was stealing from them and who was getting the information. It was very simple in most cases since most industrial thieves were just poor slobs trying to make an extra buck or two. Fortunately, it allowed us to do the same. Maggie and I worked most of the morning and were almost done when Henry came into the office.

"Henry! What are you doing here? We don't have the pictures yet. Should be done in a day or so but not now."

"Just wanted to pay you up front. That's how I do business and seems to me you folks have the goods anyway. I'll just give you a cashier's check for the $3000. OK?"

"Sure, that's fine but you don't have to pay us now. Remember, you can decide if you're satisfied before paying the full amount."

"I understand. I'd just feel better doing it this way."

Well, I took the check and filed it away for later. In the meantime, Maggie was talking to Henry sort of quiet and I could tell he was close to breaking down. I moved over to where they were and just listened. Henry was talking.

"No, you can't blame her. See, I worked so many hours and I left her alone so many times that she had to do something. I guess she wanted more but I was either not there or too tired most of the time. No, it's not her fault."

"Now Henry, you listen to me! You were working so very hard just to make sure you could give your children all you could. She knows that. She wouldn't hold you responsible for not being there when you did it all just for her and for them. No woman can blame her man for working to put food on the table and to put their children through school. That's your responsibility. Don't you dare try to excuse her behavior!"

"But what do I do? I love her so much but I don't think I can share her love. I know I can't forgive her for this. I have to let her go, but it'll kill me."

"Before you do anything, consider all you two have been through together. Can you forget that? Can you live with her, knowing what you do or can you let her out of your life? These are questions you have to ask yourself."

Henry was almost in tears, but he listened and he considered. He was a good man who had been dealt a hard blow. But he was a survivor and he would survive. That much I knew. However, I still had my doubts and I expressed them.

"Henry, I want you to go home and remember this. Right now, we suspect but we don't know. Until my man comes back with proof, remember she's innocent until proved guilty. And another thing. The reality of the pictures may be worse than you can imagine. You have to be sure you want to see them when the time comes."

Corny but effective. I would have to put that in my trusty log. Mickey, watch out. 

Wednesday Bruno called and said he was done. Wanted to come in first thing in the morning to put it together. I agreed but asked if he could give me a hint. He laughed and said mystery was my bag so I could just wait and wonder.

By the time Bruno was finished the next day, it was close to quitting time so I called Maggie in and locked the doors. We wanted to hear this and we both were too tense to wait any longer. It was unusual but we found we all liked Henry. The big, mean looking, balding, pot bellied, mafia look alike was a pussy cat. In our business we saw cheaters, thieves, liars, two timing SOBs and their like. We rarely saw a Henry, and we all wanted him to come out a winner. With fingers crossed, I gave Bruno the go ahead.

"OK, folks. Here goes. Our Connie Partridge is a very pretty woman who works out for an hour a day in the little home gym that she and Henry set up in one of the spare rooms. Connie is a babe. She looks very good in her capri's and workout shorts. But I digress."

Bruno was just being Bruno. He loved people and what made them tick. This was right on the money for him. Maggie and I both understood him so we patiently waited.

"OK, her visitor, Billy Boy Price, is a very smart man. He is the office manager for the city planning board and he is the guy that gives the certificate of occupancy to people wanting to move into their new home. It's a good job and he gets out a lot. That gives him the opportunity to make his three times a week visits to our Connie."

"Now, what goes on in that house when Billy Boy stops by you might ask. Well so did I but I was surprised by the answer. Now, I'm going to surprise and delight you with a couple of pictures. One for you lady boss, and one for you Mr. boss."


TT Spalding, PI - The Wordsworth Case



For you, the most loyal fans I've known. I wish the readers in the Loving Wives category were as intelligent as you. 

TT Spalding, PI-The Wordsworth Case.

There it was. The envelope addressed to TT Spalding, return address, Beltline Press, Inc. I raised it to the light, trying to see if I could read anything that way, but it was just a blur, the words hidden behind that infernal seal. All I had to do was rip it open and pull out the single sheet of paper inside. At least it was thin so I assumed it was one sheet. Probably a rejection letter. One of those damned form letters saying "We regret to inform you that….." You know the ones. Probably. Maggie didn't say anything when she brought it in. Just laid it on my desk and walked out. Not a word. What the hell was that all about? Unfortunately I knew. 

She was pissed at me for sending it to Beltline. She said that I should wait and make a few contacts first, people she knew, people she said could help. But since when did I wait for anything? Maggie knew what I was like. She knew I couldn't be patient. Not with the Great American Novel, written by none other than yours truly. 'Hell Leads to Chaos'. That was the title Maggie came up with. She made me contact Mickey Spillane's foundation for permission to use the name Mike Hammer which they soundly rejected! Can you believe it? But Maggie said change the name of my main character from Mike Hammer to Harry Sledge which I did, sadly giving up the attempt to resurrect Mike. But hey! If I published, and my book was a best seller, and I got famous, maybe then they would allow me to use Mike's name. Worth a shot.

I was about to tear open the envelope and read my fate when Maggie came in, looked at me and the envelope and then shut the door. She walked over to me and sat down on the edge of my desk, one leg on the floor and one swinging slowly back and forth. She leaned over toward me, her blouse opening slightly giving me a bird's eye view of her very nice cleavage and waited. She knew perfectly well what she was doing to me. That's why I loved her. My Maggie. 

"OK, what's up? What'd I do wrong now?" I figured I might as well get it out in the open. I was already in trouble over the submission but it looked like I had done something even worse.

Maggie looked stern for a moment longer than leaned over and kissed me with a hot, wet, tempting kiss. Not one of those kind where she brushes her lips over mine, like in those Nora Roberts romance novels. (OK, so I read some of them once in a while. A guy has to get his inspiration from somewhere) This was a real Maggie kiss, the kind she gives me while when we take inventory in the stock room.

"You're not in trouble. I love you, you know that. I have a favor to ask." She leaned back, taking her lips and her cleavage with her. My mood was ruined. But, if she had a favor, then there would be a reward if I came through. 

"What flavor of a favor. You know I'd do anything for you. Well, almost anything. What's really up babe?"

"I have a friend, Myra Watson. She and I met at the shop and we stayed friends even after I sold it. She called me with a problem and I told her you could probably help her." 

She rose and walked out of my office to shut and lock the front door. For Maggie to close early, it must be serious. I was hooked now. I watched her come back and sit back on the desk. At least this way, I could look at her legs while she filled me in on her 'friends' problem. Hah! Her friend? We'll see.

"Ok, here's the deal. Myra's husband, Phillip has been acting funny. Strange, was the word she used. She says he's always taking phone calls and talking so low she can't hear him. If she asks, he says it's just business. He's a stock broker on Wall Street. Handles some hedge funds and some mutual funds with big dollars involved."

Maggie stood up and walked over to the one comfortable chair in the office and pulled it up next to the desk. This was less fun for me but what could I do. I just waited, my pen and my pad open and poised. Wanted Maggie to see I was all serious about this. The better I did the favor, the better the reward. Hah! See? That's why I was the boss. Smart!

"Myra says he gets these phone calls at all hours. If she answers, no one speaks, they just hang up. And Phillip always wants to know where she is going to be and when she's going out. During the day, he calls her at home several times just to check on her. She says it's weird. She's really spooked."

"She wants you to find out what he's up to. What's he doing? Is he cheating on her with another woman, or even a man? And why does he want to know where she is at all times? She's just going crazy wondering. Can you help her? Can you find out what he's up to?" 

I made a few notes, tapped my pencil against my nose, looking very private eye-ish. "I believe I can do a few things. I have some ideas that I can check out. And I'll probably want Bruno on this. He can do some of his crap with computers. I know that's right up his alley. Give me a couple of days." 

Maggie jumped up to wrap her arms around me, kissing all around my neck and face before moving away to say, "I knew you could do it. Thank you honey. I'll just call her and tell her the news. With that, Maggie was out the door and on the phone. I was hoping for a little more as a down payment, but beggars can't be choosers.

Once Maggie left, I opened my envelope and read the words that would make my day. "We regret to inform you that. . . . . . . Thank you for your submission." I read it one more time and then filed it in the circular file. Well, Maggie was right as usual. She was waiting to hear back from her friend, the one that she said could help me. Well, I really needed help. 

Maggie had left me a page with all of the information on her friend Myra Watson. She had a part time job at the YMCA, filling in three times a week at the reception desk. She was the one that called whoever it was that was in charge of whatever it was. That job. Her husband was a broker with one of the biggies on Wall Street. I looked at the list of his Mutuals and actually recognized two of them. I bet Bruno would know most of the rest. She had listed some of his credit cards and his driver's license number. His SS was also there. I had all I needed. Enough to call Bruno.

When I found the boy, he was planning to call Polly to see if she wanted to spend a weekend with him up in the Catskills. Seems Bruno had a cabin up there, one I hadn't known about. That wasn't right. I told him so and he said that it was always available if I wanted to use it. I forgave him. He was on his way in. 

I heard the commotion outside when he arrived. He and Maggie would shoot the breeze for a few minutes, she would invite him to dinner, he would promise to come and nothing would happen. But it made Maggie happy to ask and it pleased her when he agreed. I just waited.

"Hi boss. What's up? Got a hot one? I could use the work right now. Things are going way too easy. Market's up, royalties are coming in regular and I'm bored. Hope you got a good one." Bruno sagged into one of the visitor chairs. He actually liked them. He was the only one.

"This one's a freebee. A friend of Maggie's. Are you up for that? No payday for this one. Except for me, if you know what I mean." I gave him a grin. 

"I'm in. Anything for Maggie, you know that. Do we need the princess? Polly, I mean." He looked guilty for a second and I wondered again how things were going. The last I heard, they were spending a week or so in Hawaii, just the two of them. I was alternately proud then uncomfortable. Somehow, it seemed like incest to me. I thought of both of them as my kids. 

"I don't think so but you decide." I gave him chapter and verse and we discussed it some. Bruno wanted to hit his accounts, check his cash flow and see if anything popped. He would also monitor his Mutuals and his hedge funds to see if anything out of the ordinary was happening. I suggested a bug in his car and maybe in his briefcase. We had access to both via Myra. He said he would call her to set it up. 

"Give me five days boss. I should have something by then. We can decide then what we want to do. OK with you?" 

It was and we parted, planning on meeting in five days. Bruno would call the shots from here on. I would coordinate, something I did very well. Meant little work for me but big rewards later.

For the next three days, it was business as usual. Only one thing happened that was important. That happened just that morning. Maggie stuck her head in my office with that look that said, 'A client and one that has some money. Be nice!' I got it and nodded my head.

"TT, can you see Mr. Wordsworth? He has something he wants to discuss with you."

"I have a few minutes. Show him in if you would." Polite as you please and very professional. I leaned over my desk, looking very, very busy when Maggie showed him in. He was a tall, skinny soul. He had on a plain black suit, white starched shirt, black string tie and polished shoes. He carried a black leather briefcase, scuffed and worn. He walked in, stiff as a plank. I motioned to one of the uncomfortable chairs, thinking that they were oh so appropriate for someone like him. 

"Please have a seat Mr. Wordsworth. How can I help you?" I was all business now. This kind usually had a story to tell. They were the ones that waited until the world was about to end before asking for help. They were too up tight to let go of anything, even trouble.

I swear, he sat down in the chair like he had a stick up his ass that would poke him if he unbent even a little. It was fascinating to watch. I admit, I was spellbound. He started to talk in a voice that was almost as tight as he was. 

"I own a chain of pawn shops here in the city and all over the island. They go by different names since I purchased several of them from some of my less fortunate competitors. But there are four in particular that I need you to look into. They are operated by my brother, Tito Morelli. He is married to my sister, a particularly unfortunate relationship in my opinion."

He reached into his briefcase and produced a large add, one that was taken from the paper. It proclaimed in big red letters, 

Best Prices with No Hassle! We Give You Top Dollar For Your Items. John's Pawn Shops, Four Locations To Serve You Better!

"These are the shops that have repeatedly shown a lower than expected profit. I have reviewed the books but I fail to see where the money could be going. And I assure you, I am a very good accountant. Can you do this kind of work?" 

"Of course we can. It shouldn't be a problem if what you suspect is true. But I have to ask, could you be mistaken in the anticipated profits? Maybe they are just not doing as well as you expect." I had to ask, but knowing this guy, it was a sure bet he knew to the penny the amount of money they should be taking in.

We discussed it some more with assurances from Mr. Wordsworth that he was correct. I went over the standard contract with him, adding a surcharge of 5% of any discovered funds just because he seemed to be able to afford it and sent him out to sign with Maggie. Then I called Polly and had her come in.

I went over the deal with Polly, asked her about her trip with Bruno and listened with amazement when she told me how much fun they had. My Bruno? Fun? Now there was a disturbing picture. One I didn't want to pursue. But we worked out a deal where Polly was being sent in by Mr. Wordsworth to take inventory and audit the books. Something that should not be unexpected by Tito. She knew what to do and where to look.

It was later in the day that Maggie came in, picked up the discarded letter from Beltline and read their despicable words. She grimaced, then put it back in the circular file. She gave me a funny look and then turned to walk back out into the outer office. I was staring out the little window of my office, the one that looked directly onto a brick wall when she returned. She walked over, pushed my chair back and plopped herself down in my lap.

"Why didn't you wait as I asked you? You know I'm talking to some people about your book. You need someone who wants to help, not some anonymous clerk whose job it is to weed out most of the garbage they receive." She took my face in both hands to look me directly in the eye.

"I know. I just thought if I did it on my own, you would be more proud of me. I really thought they would give it a chance. But, you were right as usual." I gave her the biggest puppy dog look that I could. Sitting on my lap, she was giving me ideas, and not ideas about a new book. When she smiled, I held my breath. 

"Well, I think we need to discuss this some more. You've been a bad boy and Maggie needs to punish you." With that, Maggie stood, moved to straddle my legs and then sat down on my lap, facing me. I reached for the buttons on that lovely blouse she was wearing and began to slowly unbutton it. She didn't stop me so I knew I was going to be much happier in a few minutes. God, I really love my Maggie!

Since what goes on between my Maggie and me is private, I have to skip ahead a little. I know you understand. She already makes me very happy every day of my life but she had that way about her to know when I was really hurting and make it better. I swear, she could make me smile during a funeral. And she did cheer me up considerably. 

It was a Monday morning, almost a week after Bruno left when he came in the office. After the usual banter with Maggie, he came in and shut the door. He had news.

"OK boss. We've got a bit more going on here than we thought. This guy Phillip Watson has some guts, I've got to say. I tapped his home phone with Myra's permission and also bugged his car and his briefcase, which was tough to do. But I got what I needed to put it all together. It breaks down like this: Watson is siphoning off money from two of his biggest funds. He has the help of an auditor from his firm and together they've been skimming off the top, disguised as management fees."

"Instead of the usual 0.01%, they've been taking .1% and banking the difference. I know it doesn't sound like much but I got into his accounts with the access numbers from his briefcase and found no less than three off-shore accounts that have over $12.5 million dollars in them. It gets worse. He also has a house in the Caymans that was purchased by money he stole. There is a woman named Patty Harris living there now, and he calls her twice a day. She's his lover and they've been seeing each other for the last two years. He met her there when he went down to buy the place."

Bruno reached into his own briefcase and pulled out a file. He pushed it over to me and continued.

"That's about all. He intends to end this at the end of next month, which is the end of the quarter, and he and his accountant intend to flee the country before the shit hits the fan. They've already booked their flights and there are only two tickets. His and the accountant. Myra will be left holding the bag."

Well damn it and damn it some more. Myra was getting screwed big time and I had to tell Maggie. This wasn't the good news I had hoped for but it was the real world. I told Bruno to sit still while I got Maggie. She came in, sat down next to Bruno. I told her we had the goods but that it wasn't going to be nice. She bowed her head a second and then told me to give her the truth. I did.

When I was done, Maggie just sat there for a minute, thinking as she was so good at, and then said, "Call your friend Cal Taylor at the FBI. This should be right up his alley. He can put a stop to it and arrest both of them. Maybe the girl too. I want his dirty ass stopped!" My Maggie was really mad! Thank God it was at someone else.

"Wait just a minute babe. Bruno can't be a part of this. What he does isn't strictly legal you know. Matter of fact, it isn't even close to being legal. I'm not putting his neck in the noose even for your friend."

"Don't be silly! You don't have to tell him how you came by this information. Just give him the facts and let him prove it. In the meantime, I can't tell Myra because she'll just tell Phillip. She loves the guy and she'll do anything for him. This is going to kill her, I know, but he has to be stopped."

While we were all there, I called Cal, gave him the basic facts over the phone, told him he was on his own for proof, then relented and gave him some account numbers. I reminded him that this was off the record and if he tried to call me in, I would plead the 5th. He promised to keep me out of it and hung up. We had done all we could and now we just had to wait. 

After Bruno left, Maggie and I sat and talked and she got all choked up about her friend. "Why can't she find a good man like I did? The more I see of the world, the more I appreciate you. I love you to death old man." 

When I suggested we head home early, Maggie agreed, went to the safe and took out one of the videos we had from one of our cases. This one included some really juicy scenes and we had viewed it a couple of times before. When I saw the title, my heart started to pound, my lower regions reacted, and I wondered how I was going to make it home. Maggie saw my problem, put the video in her purse with a smile, and proceeded to make it possible for me to walk without embarrassing myself. You can guess how she did that. God, I loved that woman! 

It was the following week when I heard from Polly. She had the goods on Tito Morelli. It seems that Tito was doing some very clever doctoring of both the video surveillance tapes and the records of payout. There were two sets of books, one with the real payouts and receipts and one with the doctored values. For example, Tito took in a digital video recorder, paid the owner $100, but recorded $150 in the fake book. He pocketed the other $50. Didn't seem like much, but with four shops and several hundred every day, it added up. Seems Mr. Wordsworth had a keen eye for what the real value should have been. Polly gave me video, a copy of both books and surveillance photos of Tito pulling the tapes and editing them. Good clear prints all. Polly was a pro as you know. 

I sent her home with a check for a grand, plus a bonus of another two hundred and wrote up the report. I spent the better part of the afternoon on it, figuring we could get at least two or maybe three grand extra from our rigid client. I estimated that Tito had skimmed at least $4,000 a week for the past four months. I came up with a total of $64,000 just for that period, and he had been up to something for the past two years. Being conservative, I figured our Mr. Wordsworth owed us the base contract of $3500 plus a recovery fee of 5% or just about $19,200. So, we made $22,700 less the $1200 I gave Polly. 

When I gave the report with the bill to Maggie, I was rewarded with a kiss and a hug. She promised to call him immediately and then suggested we take inventory again. When I questioned this as maybe being too responsible, she told me seriously that she felt there were some very expensive pencils missing. Well! This had to stop! I went with her to the stockroom right then and there! After all, I had my reputation to uphold. Have I mentioned that I really loved my Maggie?

The meeting with Mr. Wordsworth went well. He was delighted with the news, nodded his head at the totals in the report and reviewed the videos and the pictures with a smile. I have to tell you that his smile was not something worth waiting for. It gave me the creeps! Maggie too. When I asked how he wanted to handle this, he just handed me a cashier's check for the total amount plus a 10% bonus and said that it was taken care of. Not to worry. Well, I gave him the original report and all of Polly's stuff and wiped my hands of that deal. As I said, he gave me the creeps. I mentally wished Tito well, but I didn't expect he was going to be very happy.




TT Spalding, PI - The Wordsworth Case



As to Myra, I saw her the other day with Maggie. The shit hit the fan alright when Cal got the goods on Phillip Watson. He got permission from Phil's bosses to monitor the fees he was charging his clients and used his own contacts at Homeland Security to follow the money trial to the Caymans. They also tapped his phones and monitored his computer and located the accountant and Patty Harris. When Cal took them down, it made all the headlines, got front page coverage in the New York papers and nationwide TV coverage. Cal was a hero, Myra was found to be innocent of all knowledge and released, and her husband went down big time. Maggie was pleased but concerned about her friend. We had her over to dinner several times and she seemed to be getting along much better now.

Cal called, made sure I was cool with him taking the credit and then told me I had a favor coming. If and when I needed to collect, he said to just call. Well, that was fine with me since I was often on the verge of doing something illegal. One of these days, I was going to slip over the line. Good to have favors owed. 

Well, all in all, things went pretty well considering. I got lucky a couple of times myself and Maggie has been just as happy as can be. When Maggie is happy, so am I. For many reasons. Maggie is about as perfect as they come but a happy Maggie is without equal. Trust me. 

Oh, yes. Maggie sent my manuscript out today to her friend. She seems to think it has a good chance of being published. I'll just hold my breath and hope for the best. Actually, my motto is 'expect the worst and hope for the best'. We'll see. Stay tuned. 



TT Spalding-PI: TT's Story



This is the story of TT Spalding. By now, if you've followed his career, you've met Bruno, Polly and Maggie. They are his friends and his family. He was a cop, a detective and finally a PI, but this is a quick glimpse into his life. As he himself says, life didn't really begin until he met Maggie Malone. But, judge for yourself.

Edited by Angel Love. As always.

TT Spalding-PI, His Story

This was really boring work but it had to be done. It was stuff like this that reminded me again why I considered getting out of this line of business. I was getting too old to be sitting in a cold car watching for some shithead to do something bad. I checked the rear view mirror one more time before sliding down in my seat to take the stress off my ass. I had been sitting here now for close to two hours. Two fucking hours in a cold car on a dismal side street in the worst part of the damn city. Jersey City, NJ to be exact. Nestled snugly between Newark Bay and Upper New York Bay, both scenic waterways to be sure, and just across the water from New York City proper, Jersey City was in its heyday as one of the top crime cities in Jersey. The tourist brochures called it the cream of the garden state if you believed the mayor and the PR guys. But then I wasn't a tourist. I was here on business and Jersey City was the armpit of the world if you ask me. But, this was the place Ratface and his crowd did their business.

I was staking out the place for the District Attorney of one of the five boroughs of NY. He had a tip that one of the crime bosses, a guy called Ratface since his eyes were small and beady I guess, was going to do some serious business here tonight. Make a score of drugs that would end up in NY. Can't tell you which DA, because that would be breaking the law. I was on official business. Who am I you ask? Well, let me tell you.

My name is TT Spalding. Shit! OK, if you really have to know, my name is Theodore Terrell Spalding, a name most proudly given to me by my sainted mother, long live her beautiful soul. She was full of love and so proud of her baby. She poured both into my name. Theodore was my father's name and she adored my father. Her father's name was Terrell whom she also adored, so that became my middle name. 

My mother was Irish and my father was English. They came to this country when they were newlyweds. Dad wanted to make his fortune here in the states and my mother would go wherever my father took her. They were devoted to each other and that devotion came down to me when I was born three years later. That was back in 1957. They raised me with the same love they showed each other and in my memories, our home was always filled with laughter. I grew up in that home and it made me the man I am today. I know a lot of cops had bad childhoods but I wasn't one of them. 

I was already a man grown when I lost both of them in a fire. I had been accepted into the police academy and training had begun when I was called into the commandant's office for the news. Both my mother and father had died in a gas explosion and resulting fire in their apartment. They were both dead on arrival in the hospital. At twenty-one years of age, I was alone for the first time in my life. The first time their laughter and joy were stilled. The first time I had no one but myself to share my life with. Just me. When I went home that night to my small flat, I knew that the love and laughter I had known all my life was gone. It was just me now, with only the memories of them and their love.

I survived, of course. Life never lets us off that easy. Arrangements were made, they were buried side by side with dignity and I had a stone erected where they lay. I put some sentiment that would have pleased my mother and amused my father on the stone and I still go there when I can. For the next twenty years, I talked to them and discussed my plans with them and it seemed like they were still there for me. But, they weren't and I knew it, but the fantasy gave me peace.

I graduated from the police academy, and worked hard on the job. I learned the streets and the lessons it taught me. I applied for, and was accepted as an aide with one of the detectives and trained with him for two more years. He brought me along quickly and within another three years, I was a detective for the NYPD. Proud moment for me and one I shared with Mom and Dad. Me, their son, TT Spalding, a detective. I had my shield and I swore to them to use it with integrity. I might not be great and I might not earn accolades but I would always be honest and straight. I would make them proud. I hadn't let them down on that score, but I was also not one of the real stars in the department. Honest, yes. A great detective? Not really. But it was not because I didn't try. 

So it was as I sat there, waiting for this Ratface and his crew to do their thing. It was a big operation. Ratface was trying to make his bones and take over one of the biggest drug syndicates in Jersey. He was a smart guy. He found it was easier to steal drugs from the current drug lord, peddle them on his own in the current drug lord's territory and use his distributors in the process. A tactic guaranteed to piss off the current drug lord and make the shit fly. So, I was there to try to stop all hell from breaking loose. I had help but it was still going to be dicey. But, success would be a rose in my jacket.

Just as I was about to get on the two-way and see if we were still on, I saw a big black SUV pull up in front of the building I was watching and sat up straighter. I knew Ratface by sight and I waited. Sure enough, he stepped out of the back and stood there waiting until his bodyguards surrounded him. Then, as a group, they walked into the building and out of my sight. But that was the key. We were going to give them a few to get inside and then SWAT would go in and roust them out. We needed them in possession of the goods we had found inside. Just let them establish ownership and we had them all on felony possession. From there, the DA could have them.

The SWAT team moved into position from their concealment. They had been waiting in an abandoned building just across the street. Dressed in black with their helmets and their weapons they looked like the vision most people had of the SS Storm Troopers of the second world war. Only these were the good guys. They moved in groups around to the back and to the front door ready to bust in. Just as I saw the commander arrive on site and prepare to give the word, shots rang out upstairs in the building and the hell that I was there to try to prevent did indeed break out. Pandemonium reigned as gunfire broke the silence all to hell and back. Shots from the upper floor became constant and the SWAT team backed away and took positions blocking all exits. But instead of going in, the commander just held them in place, a small smile on his ugly face. 

As I watched and fretted I was about to get on the radio and order SWAT to go in now when they did just that. As the gunfire began to die down, SWAT went in fast, both front and back doors with guns ready and bullhorns screaming. I got out of my car and watched, figuring these guys were better at this than me. As I stood watching the action, I saw a man crawling out of a side window. I moved over to get a better view, and saw it was Ratface, trying to sneak away. Well, I hotfooted it over to the side alley where he was trying to make himself invisible and snuck around the corner just as he was about to make a run for it. 

Just as he turned, I said, "Going somewhere asshole? I wouldn't try it if it was me." 

I had my gun on him but the son of a bitch must have been holding his piece just out of sight because as I spoke, he drew and fired. As I felt the burn just below my waist and very damn close to an area that I fervently prayed he missed, I fired. I got him in the gut and he went down like a sack of potatoes. It got very dark then, and the lights went out. 

I woke in the hospital, sore, but alive and wondering how things went down after I bit the dust. I didn't have long to wait as my Captain came in and gave me the news. Seems I was a hero. I had single handedly stopped the top guy, Mr. Ratface, from escaping. He left his crew behind to take the heat from the small army the drug lord had waiting for him. He split when the first bullets went flying and then he waited until SWAT went upstairs. When he thought it was all clear, he made the move out the window where I spotted him. He was going to survive and face the music. The rest is history. 

Speaking of history, as I lay there in my hospital bed, not badly hurt but very badly frightened by what had almost happened, I asked myself what I wanted out of my life. This sure as hell wasn't one of my top ten, that's for damn certain. But I did like being a detective, or at least, being in the position of figuring out how to beat the bad guys. I also kinda liked the power it gave me over the evildoers. (I really liked that word). But I didn't like the idea of other people shooting at me, so how to have the best of both worlds? Good question and one I chewed on for the next twenty-four hours before I was discharged. 

When I reported to duty a week and a half later, relegated to desk duty by my healing injury, I got a visit from the DA. He asked after my health and then made me an offer. Seems he wanted a small task force to go after the drug trade in and around the city. He wanted me to head it up, referring to my vast experience with said drug lords. I could call the shots, set up the stings and order others in to do the heavy lifting. Not a bad gig. I accepted. I became attached directly to the DA's office as a special investigator. 

For the next two years, I headed the task force that the DA set up and I have to say, we were very successful. In that period, we had more than fourteen major busts, all of which ended up in convictions and we took probably well more than twenty million dollars of illegal drugs off the streets. Of course, for every bust, someone else moved in and for every million or so we took off the streets, another two to three million came back in. It was sad, but true. We did our jobs trying to protect the people, but I soon came to realize that too many people didn't want our protection. But, for those that did, we stayed. 

It was on one of those raids, much like the one in Jersey City, that I met a man named Bruno Carlette. Bruno was a small time junkie who had a flair for things electronic. When I came across him, I had been staking out a building where I had a line on the group trying to muscle in on the local drug distributor. I was going to bust the newbie since I wanted the established druggie to stay in power. He was dumb, trying to make a big name for himself and I had him infiltrated every which way but Sunday. So, I needed him to stay in business. The new guy had to fall. 

Anyway, while I was staking out the building, I saw this junkie making tracks to get into this building. He was very good apparently since he did something I couldn't make out and the door opened. I expected the alarms to go off but none did. Well, well. What do we have here? I went in after him just to see what he was going to do. Gun drawn and being as quiet as I could, I snuck into the building and followed the light I saw from the flashlight he carried. I found him working on the alarm for the building, which was a really good trick since the alarm was top of the line. As I watched, he disarmed it, re-set the code and locked it down. When he was finished, I made the collar, took him in and turned him over. But it was the strangest thing. As I watched his interview, something about the guy struck a chord inside me and I wanted to save his ass. I heard him admit to being a junkie and he said he worked for drugs or drug money. Same story I had heard a hundred times. Why was he different? I hadn't a clue.

Anyway, I had him released to me, used him for this bust, putting him back in where I found him but now with a wire. He delivered and after the bust was over, I got him to agree to rehab and I worked with him as my CI, my own informer. It was a hell of a ride, him wanting the smack and me determined not to let him have it. He tried though and I made damn sure he stayed on the path. He did good, stayed clean and we worked together for the next three years or so. We became friends, or at least I like to think he was my friend. I helped set him up in business for himself. He was into electronics so that's what he did. I even helped him make some contacts to get a patent or two. I suspected he made a lot of money from stuff like that but I never let on that I knew. To me, he was always going to be Bruno, the wiz kid when I needed surveillance. He was tops and still is. 

During that time, I decided that I was going to call it quits. I had almost twenty in with the NYPD and I wanted to retire while I was still in one piece. I gave notice, set my retirement date and decided to go into the private dick business. I got the idea, believe it or not, from reading some of my dad's old books. Ones I salvaged from his apartment after the fire. They were all detective novels, but the ones that I started reading in the hospital and at home after I was discharged were books by a guy named Mickey Spillane. He wrote a lot of stuff but the ones I liked best were about this private dick named Mike Hammer. I got into it by accident. I started reading one called The Girl Hunters, thinking it might be really hot in a sexy way, but it was one of the Mike Hammer novels, and once I started it, I couldn't put it down. Damn, it was good stuff! I loved it! From then on, I was hooked. I checked my stash and found I had five of those novels. I found some others by Mickey and they were detective novels as well, but not Mike Hammer ones. I think back now and I know I modeled myself after Mike. TT Spalding, PI. 

Anyhow. I started my own firm, TT Spalding, Investigations. I got my license, still kept my carry license for my 9 mm and opened a small office. I put the word out with some of my cop friends, some shop keepers and bodega owners and then waited. I did ask Bruno to join me, but he was into his own thing. Said no, but to call if I needed him and he would come. And to this day, he has never refused when I did call. I guess he had enough money to make it on his own now. That was good. It gave me a good feeling to know I had been part of that. 

For the next year or so, I did enough to keep me busy. Mostly cheating spouses and identity tracing but got one or two business cases. Ones where someone was ripping off funds or merchandise. I liked those, since they could make me a buck or two more than the domestic stuff. I got Bruno on a couple of those and we worked well together. Just like before. I had missed him at first. Just a guy thing, so don't get any ideas. But I did miss him. It was good to work together again. It was on one of those cases where I met Melvin Haynes, an attorney who worked like me: on the cases the police and the well to do lawyers wouldn't take. We worked for the little people, although neither of us would admit that to anyone. I felt Mike Hammer would have been proud. We were just trying to make a buck. But we liked what we did and we never worried about tomorrow. Just do the job.

I had done several jobs for Mel, mostly gaining evidence in divorce cases. I hated that type work but it paid some of the bills. And it gave me time to read my Mike Hammer novels while staking out the places these no-imagination types used for their meetings. Jesus! These people can really be dumb! Like this one night. It seemed like a regular domestic stick, just catch the cheating wife. No biggie. I handled it on my own. Never thought to ask Bruno. A simple stakeout, a couple of pictures, some work to identify license plate numbers and done. A quick $500 for a couple of hour's work. Right?

I followed this woman to a no-name motel where she registered under her own name. Stupid? Of course. A $20 bill later, I had a copy of her signature on the register, complete with name of motel, time stamped and dated. While she went into the room, I waited, reading 'One Lonely Night' a Mike Hammer novel Mickey penned in 1951. Great read! I was just getting into it when Mr. Stupid pulls up, walked into the lobby and has the clerk connect him with the room Mrs. Stupid rented for their meeting. I watched him say something, then walk to the room where Mrs. Stupid was waiting. I stopped reading long enough to get several good pictures of him and then both of them when she opened the door. Mrs. Stupid was wearing nothing when she answered the door. Great pictures. I waited, walked up to the window where I had noticed the curtain left a gap between the edge of the window and the curtain giving me a nice view of the bed. Well, you can take it from there. Really good pictures!

I wrapped it up after that, took my camera and stopped at Max's photo shop to have them developed. Max knew what I did so he never questioned the pictures I gave him. He just grunted, developed them and gave them back to me. On this occasion, however, my life changed forever. It seems Max had hired a new woman to work for him. When I saw her, my heart started to pound and my legs felt a little wobbly. I was sweating bullets and I was afraid I was having a heart attack. She didn't seem to be paying me much attention so I was able to recover my wits and get my body back under some sort of control. I almost forgot what I was doing when Max handed me the pictures in an envelope. 

I took the envelope, looked again at the woman and asked Max, "Who is that working behind the counter? Did you hire her? Does she work for you now? What's her name? Is she...."

"Name's Maggie and she's none of your never mind. She works for me. Not for you to think about. She's got troubles and she doesn't need you to make it worse. You hear me?"

I heard and wondered what those troubles were. As we talked, she glanced over to us and smiled at me. I returned the smile, sort of sickly though not being able to understand what was happening to my insides. That was the beginning of the end for me. I was lost even though I did as Max asked and stayed away. But, I was weakening.

It was several weeks later that Mel called me to do a job for him. I was at loose ends so I agreed. I went into his office, he showed me some pictures of a man and gave me his address, SS number and some other information and told me he wanted to know everything there was to know about the guy. Especially financial info. He wanted it yesterday and told me it was urgent. Never mentioned the client's name though so I had no idea of whom he or she was. Just a target. Just up Bruno's alley. 

Bruno and I started right away and before the week was out, we had a good amount of info ready. Seems the guy was a creep, with several misdemeanor charges of abuse, misdemeanor assault, disturbing the peace and other similar charges. Most pleaded out by the local DA which meant juice to me. He knew someone or had something on someone. Whatever. Bruno was able to find at least two separate accounts in his name and two accounts in another city. All were in his name: Jonathan DiCarlo. His wife was a Margaret DiCarlo but she was absent on all of his accounts and on the deed for their home. Just a joint account which had virtually nothing in it and some small savings accounts at two local banks. By the time we were done, we found more than $250k the guy had hidden from his wife. 

We gave the info to Mel the following Monday and he looked like a shark who just spotted his next meal. Mel's laugh boomed as he read the file. "Damn, you do good work TT. No wonder I let you work for me. No shit! This guy's a real bastard, ain't he?" Mel read the file over again and the grin on his face just got wider if that was possible. "This is exactly what I needed. Good work guys! Damn good work!"




TT Spalding-PI: TT's Story



After that, things went back to normal and Bruno and I went our separate ways. I started stopping in to Max's place once or twice a week, just to see Maggie. I spoke to her politely but felt tongue-tied around her most of the time, so I settled for watching her as she helped customers. Busy days were my best times. I could just watch and not have to say anything. I knew that I was in trouble. This woman was real trouble for me and I wasn't sure I wanted that kind of trouble. I had been single for all but one year of my forty-eight years. A brief marriage when I was twenty-five was a big mistake and we both knew it right away. We parted friends and I never had the time to try again. I was happy being single, lonely sometimes but I had friends. Good friends. Bullshit, why do I lie about stuff like that? I knew people. I had one friend: Bruno. 

Things changed again about a month later. Mel called and asked me to come in to see him. Seems the client was asking for a divorce and the husband was being a real pain in the ass. Didn't want to admit to the extra money, made noises about moving it again if she tried to take any and threatened to make trouble for her if she didn't drop the divorce motion. "I need you to put the move on this guy. I need for him to see that it would be less painful and better for his health if he comes around to my way of thinking. I know you don't do that stuff, but you know people. Talk to your people. Do this for her."

"Who the hell is her. You never told me the client's name so I have no idea who you're talking about. If you want my help, level with me."

Mel just gave me a puzzled look. "I thought you knew. It's Maggie. Maggie that works for Max. I thought you knew her name. Jonathan DiCarlo is her husband. Her name is Maggie Malone DiCarlo. His wife."

I sat there stunned! I didn't know. I never made the connection. I never knew Maggie's last name. Hell, I was lucky to even talk to her, let alone know anything about her background. But now! Whoa! This was big. "Let me get this through my head. Maggie is this creep's wife? She's breaking away?"

"Finally, it registers. I thought you were a top notch snoop. You honestly didn't know? I'll be damned. Hah! Well, you gonna do it for me? For her really."

Long story short, hell yes! Told Mel to give me a couple of days and we would talk again. So, when I left, I called Bruno and asked him to meet me at the local watering hole. One of my favorite haunts. Cheap beer and good company. Mostly male, and the occasional female. Not that I was interested but some were good listeners. So, when Bruno arrived, I motioned him over to a booth and joined him with a fresh beer and a shot, his choice of refreshment. 

"Listen my man. Remember that woman beater we worked on a few weeks ago? You found a whole bunch of hidden accounts he was keeping from his wife. Seems he needs some encouragement to make Mel's job easier. And here's the thing. I find he is the husband of that woman who works for Max. You know the one?"

Bruno smiled a little and then asked, "You mean the one that has your shorts in a wringer? That woman?"

"Yes, that one. And I just think she's a nice lady who needs our help. That's all. Just a person in need of our professional services."

"Sure boss. Whatever you say boss. Just a nice lady. I got it. What do you want to do? I assume you have a plan, like always. One where I do all the work and you take all the credit?"

"Something like that. I have the brains, you have the skills. Without me, you're just a nerd. With me, you're a special nerd."

Bruno and I talked it out. I wanted three things from this asshole. First, I wanted Bruno to find and freeze all of his accounts when I gave the word. No way for him to get his hands on the bread. Second, I wanted him to know that regardless of what he did, we had him nailed. If he tried to make a move or switch an account, I wanted him to know we knew! Finally, I wanted him to feel what Maggie felt when he beat the hell out of her. I wanted him to have a couple of ribs cracked as a reminder that he either agreed with Mel's conditions or he would receive much worse. Bruno knew the guys for that part, but so did I, so we flipped a coin and I lost. I'd do the guys and Bruno would do the rest. We agreed on one week. On the last day of next week, Mr. Jonathan DiCarlo would sign the divorce decree. Or else.

On the appointed day, Mel got a call from Mr. DiCarlo who wanted to come in and sign on the dotted line. Mel agreed, set a time and I watched from my car as Mr. DiCarlo pulled up, walked slowly and painfully in, signed without a word and then left. I followed him to his house, watched as he went inside, moving around the guys loading his furniture. I sat there for another two hours as the movers completed their job, closed up the truck and left. During that time, Bruno came by driving one of those SUVs, Hummers I think they call them. He pulled up beside me, rolled down the window and asked me if things were going fast enough. I laughed and said it was fine. He waved, then drove off. After the truck moved away, Mr. DiCarlo came out, locked the door, looked around once and then got in his car and drove off. I followed him as far as the interstate. 

Out of respect for Maggie and what she had been through, I waited until the divorce was final before resuming my visits to Max. It seems that in the meantime, Max had also adopted a sweet young thing for his protégé. That was a good thing since Max wanted so badly for someone to pass on his love of photography. I think her name was Polly something. Cute kid, but tough. I spoke one day to her and got a curt "Yo!" but nothing more. But Max was sold on her so she must be OK. 

I was on a new project that unfortunately took me out of state for a good long time. It was one of those damned import/export things that had me going to several states and finally down into Mexico. Took me over a year to solve that one and during that time, Max died. I was in Mexico at the time and couldn't make it back for the funeral which pissed me to no end. Max was one of the good guys. But, I sent flowers. And hoped Maggie would be OK. And Polly, for that matter. I decided to try to end this job as soon as possible and get back home.

Things at home were fine, my business was solid, nothing was out of line and I relaxed once more. I had made enough from the last job to pay my bills for a while so I was loose. I let Max's affairs settle and just sort of bided my time. I know Max left everything to the girls since he had me and Mel witness his new will. Seems he wanted Polly to have all his photo stuff and he left the shop and the loft apartment to Maggie and Polly together. I was happy in a way because that meant Maggie might be staying. I was happy in a selfish way. So sue me. I watched and waited and finally I couldn't stand it any more. I had to do it. I put on one of my only suits, with a clean shirt and tie, my good shoes, screwed up my courage and went into the shop.

Maggie was there, and it wasn't very busy thank the gods. She was working on a display of something or other and I just watched her for awhile. I think she caught me looking but I turned away really quick. She finished, walked away and turned to see me watching. I think we were both caught by surprise. But now was the time. I checked my reflection in the window, smoothed what hair I had left back and wet my lips. Just so I could speak coherently. I gathered my courage, walked right up to the counter and introduced myself. 

"Hi. My name is TT Spalding. Everyone calls me TT. You're Maggie, aren't you?" 

She answered me and we talked for a while about whom we were. You know, just chatting. I finally decided to go for it. I swallowed, wet my lips again, and asked, "Would you like to have dinner with me some evening? We could try that new place on Seventeenth Street, if you like Italian." 

There! I did it. Not even a stutter or a stumble. I made it through the speech I had rehearsed over and over and it came out perfect. Now, what would she say? No? I could handle it. No, I couldn't. No way could I stand that. She had to say yes. She had to! But, she didn't. She didn't say anything. Just looked at me as if I had two heads. Oh, shit! I hadn't planned on this. I had only yes in my head. 

"OK, I'm sorry. You don't know me and it's OK. I shouldn't have sprung it on you like that. I'm really sorry. I'll go now. I'm sorry." I turned and headed for the door, praying I could make it before I broke down and cried. I was so humiliated. What the hell was I thinking? Stupid! Stupid! I reached for the door and almost walked out before it dawned on me she had called me. 

I stopped, turned and said intelligently, "Huh?"

"I said I don't know. I'll have to think about it." Then she must have realized how that must sound so she quickly added, "It's not you. Please don't think that. It's just, well, I've not dated for some time now."

Well, it wasn't no. I could do that: give her time. Sure I could. "Take your time. I'll stop back in later and then we can talk about it some more." 

She smiled and nodded. I bobbed my head a couple of times and walked out quickly before I lost it. Maybe! She said maybe. OK, all right! Yes was not far from maybe. Maybe was closer to yes than to no, wasn't it? I thought so. OK, tomorrow. I could wait. 

Well, Maggie said yes and we went out on our first date. I had the best time of my life. She was bright, witty, easy to talk to and very, very easy on the eyes. She had on a white blouse that fit her very well and showed her very bountiful cleavage to good advantage. Not too low, not too tight, just damn perfect! She had on a skirt that had a slit up one side so that when she walked or sat and crossed her legs, some thigh would show. Again, not too much and not too tight. Perfect. She had on heels, about two inches I would guess and it did things to her calves that made my mouth go dry. But, her legs were perfect. As a matter of fact, every thing about her was perfect. I had the best time. Did I already say that? Well I did. 

I have to say, I fell for Maggie that first night. I was hooked, completely hooked and I wanted nothing more than for her to reel me in. I walked her home, she gave me a chaste good night kiss and I went back to my apartment in a daze. But it was a good daze and it carried me through the night. It was a wonderful night and my dreams were very good ones. It was the start. Maggie and I continued to date and we were drawn to each other from the very beginning. Neither of us could get enough of the other and we became almost inseparable. We did the deed for the first time on our fifth date and we went to my apartment. All I can say is, 'Wow!' I never knew sex could be like that. I guess it was love that made it so different from anything I had ever experienced. 

I wanted Maggie to move in with me but she refused. She was living with Polly and the two of them were still working the shop and Polly was becoming very well known. I knew money was not a problem for either of them so I began to think. Maggie and I belonged together. I had to have her in my life. I had no life now without her in it so I decided to give it a go. I asked Maggie to dinner the following Wednesday evening. She closed the shop early on Wednesdays so she was always able to go out that night. I paid a visit to a good friend of mine and made a purchase. I made reservations at a really good restaurant up town and got flowers. I snagged a guy I knew for a limo for the evening and he agreed. He owed me. I was all set. 

I picked her up and escorted her to the limo. She was impressed when she saw the limo and the flowers I had waiting for her. She slid into the seat and I told Murray to head for the restaurant while I poured a glass of champagne for each of us. I was going to wait till we were in the restaurant but I was too anxious. I toasted our relationship and we drank to more to come. As I took the glass from Maggie, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the little box I had inside. Maggie saw it and became very quiet. I gulped once, took her hand in mine with the ring poised and took the biggest leap of faith in my life.

"Maggie, I want to live the rest of my life with you by my side. I love you more than I thought possible and I know now that I can't be happy without you. I want you to be my wife. Will you accept what I have to offer and marry me, Margaret Malone?"

I held my breath while I looked into her eyes. They began to glisten with tears and I wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, but she let me know with a single word.

"Yes!"

Even though I was ready to shed the mantle of single male and do the deed with Maggie, she told me she had some things to do first. I had no choice but to agree and asked what I could do to help. She told me nothing and to just let her take care of it. I finally agreed and stopped wondering. Maggie was her own woman and when she decided to do something, it got done. 

I knew that Maggie and Polly were co owners of the loft apartment and the photo shop. Polly had a whole lot of stuff in the apartment and in the studio right above the store. I knew that was one of the things Maggie had to decide. So, I was quite surprised when she told me later that she had a buyer for the shop. I asked her if she really wanted to let it go and she told me that while it was a special place for her, she would rather be my bride and spend her time with me. I had no problem with that and told her so. Polly had agreed to take over the apartment, the loft studio and all of the equipment so the deed was restructured by Mel to separate the shop from the rest and the shop was then sold as a stand alone. Maggie was now free to move in with me but not until we were married. 

Now, you may ask how that all worked. Well, simple. Maggie and I searched and found a nice two bedroom apartment not far from the shop. We both liked it so we made an offer and were accepted. We now had a place for us when we married. In the meantime, Maggie stayed with Polly until the wedding. Most of her stuff was moved into the new place, just waiting. In the meantime, Polly and Maggie planned the wedding. Why we couldn't just do to a JP, I didn't know, but it was important to Maggie so we compromised and did it her way. I should have realized then that this was the way it would be from now on. But, I was still a little dazed by Maggie agreeing to marry me. 

The wedding was a small but very nice affair with my one or two and her many friends. Bruno was my best man and Polly was her maid of honor. We were married in a small chapel just around the corner from the shop, a place where Max was well known. I think his friends came just to remember him, but it was a great ceremony and I was now a married man. For a honeymoon, we flew to Florida and stayed in one of the ubiquitous hotels on Miami Beach. We never left the room for the first three days and they were days I still remember fondly. But we did eventually hit the beaches and do some swimming. Maggie was beautiful in her swimsuit and I had a hard on, I mean a hard time, getting used to the looks she got from all the men on the beach. But Maggie paid them no mind. I was hers and I was all she wanted, something I never stopped wondering about. But, I feel the same way about her so we're even.

When we returned, Maggie came to work with me as my secretary, my bookkeeper, my accountant, my conscience, and my motivation. She quickly took over the place and I was left to myself to drum up business and work on the novel I was going to do and publish as the next Mickey Spillane. I would make him proud as I assured a doubting Maggie. She simply patted me on the cheek, pressed a quick kiss to my mouth and then dismissed it. But we did OK and business remained steady, mostly because of the contacts I still maintained with the owners and shopkeepers. And the cops. They still pushed business my way. I even worked for the DA on some occasions. Life was good, Maggie and I were still in love, the business was solid, and we had no problems.

At least up until the phone call from Bruno . . .



TT Spalding - PI



Bruno handed Maggie and I each an 8x10 glossy of Bill Price and Connie Partridge together in the living room of 1126 Landing Place Lane, the home of our Henry and Connie Partridge. As I studied the picture I began to laugh, followed immediately by Maggie. We laughed so hard we had tears coming out of our eyes in buckets. I couldn't help it, I laughed until I was almost sick. I had never been happier in my life. When we began to slow down, he gave each of us a small note with something written on it. I read it and began laughing again, only this time harder if that was possible. 

Maggie recovered first and went over to Bruno and gave him a big wet kiss. I watched in satisfied pleasure as Bruno's eyes flew wide open. Ah, Maggie could kiss a mad bull into submission without breathing hard. God, I loved that woman. But I think I've said that before.

Maggie went immediately to the phone and called Henry. He was still at work and she told him to stop in before going home. She had something he had to see. No hint or clue from my Maggie. She wanted to tell him this in person. So did I.

The three of us were waiting for Henry when he came through the door. I almost blurted it out right then when I saw his face. He looked sadder than an unhappy bloodhound. If looks told the tale, he believed his world was coming to an end. I was glad I wasn't the one responsible for making him look like that. Hell, I decided to put him out of his misery.

"Henry, this is Bruno Morelli. He is one of my top investigators and he was assigned to your case. I'm going to let Bruno give you a verbal report right away. The finished report will be done tomorrow and you'll have everything we have then but no use making you wait. We'll also give you back the information you gave us. That will conclude our business."

I turned to Bruno with a solemn look on my face and told him to go ahead and give a 'verbal report' to our client. Bruno returned my solemn look with one of his own, almost causing me to crack up right then. I turned and sat before I burst out laughing. 

"Mr. Partridge, I can tell you that your wife, Mrs. Constance Partridge, has been seeing a man by the name of William Price three times a week from 1:30 pm to 4:20 pm give or take a few minutes. This has been occurring for just over three weeks as of last Friday. He visits on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday."

"Are there any questions so far?" Bruno waited to see if Henry was going to ask but it appeared not.

"Well then, the purpose of the visits is clear in these pictures I have. Please look at them before I give you the conclusion."

With that, he handed three pictures to Henry, similar to the ones he gave Maggie and me. Henry looked at the first one, then the second and finally the third. I watched his haggard face begin to relax and then the smile began. By the time he had understood the significance of the pictures, we were almost beside ourselves. One last thing to do.

As Henry looked up at Bruno, Bruno very solemnly gave him the clincher.

"I have some further information about Mr. William Price. Mr. Price is lovingly referred to as Billy Boy Price. He is the son of a woman your wife knows. He is gay and is currently cohabitating with another male friend named Clyde Post. So. In conclusion, your wife has been meeting three times a week with a gay male friend who is helping her complete the requirements for her GED. She is going to complete the course this very week and she is hoping to surprise you this coming Friday with a small party at your home."

At that we all burst out laughing as we watched Henry. He was sitting there with the pictures forgotten in his hands grinning like a moron. He was absolutely beaming! His wife, his love, was not cheating on him! 

Bruno had spoken to Bill Price. Billy boy told him she was doing this as a gift of love. She wanted to get her GED so she could get a job and make some money so Henry didn't have to work so many hours. Billy was helping her to complete the requirements laid out by the state and he promised to help her find a good job, maybe one with the city. 

"This is all true? This is what she was doing all along? You're sure? Please, are you sure?"

"Positive Henry. Absolutely positive. Congratulations: your wife loves you and she is completely faithful to you. Go home, Henry. Go home to your loving wife and enjoy her." 

When Mickey Spillane wrote Mike Hammer, he was more concerned with the bad guys and I loved his novels like I loved my wife. But damn! Wasn't it fun to see the good guy win one once in a while?

Henry left, I gave Bruno a check for $900 instead of the $800 he normally got because I was so damn glad it worked out as it did and Maggie and I locked up for the night. We had done well: case solved, husband and wife still together, money in our pocket and love in our hearts. We went home to enjoy our own life.





TT Spalding-Polly's Story



For those of you who follow and enjoy the TT Spalding-PI series, this is Polly's story. It is too closely aligned with Maggie's to separate them completely, but I tried. This is the Polly that you may have wondered about. She and Bruno are the tools that TT uses to close his cases. There is little humor in this but I began in this category and I continue. Enjoy.

Edited by Angel Love who continues to encourage me. Thanks as always.

TT Spalding-PI, The Bowers Company Case.

Polly searches for a suspected embezzler.

I had to admit, the past two weeks of work were just about the best I had ever had so you might wonder why I was trying so hard to finish early. The temperature here was a balmy 80 degrees and the sun was a golden ball in the clear blue skies. The location was the Island of Fiji and I was on a swimsuit shoot for a national magazine. I could have extended it for another week at least but last night I got a call from TT Spalding in New York. He wanted me to come home to help him on a case. So, I was cutting it tight to finish today so I could be on a plane tonight. 

Working with these overdeveloped, undernourished, vapid women and men was just about to drive me mad. The only thing they knew how to do well was bitch. Bitch about the heat, the sun, the humidity, the time, the wind, the . . . , you get the point. But, my fee for this shoot was enough to make up for it. And the location? Fiji? Come on! Who wouldn't take a few bimbos and male gigolos for a week in Fiji? Actually I had taken one of the gigolos for a couple of nights, but that was another story.

I maneuvered the tall, skinny blonde wearing two pieces of cloth that someone laughingly called a swimsuit, into the right position, checked the light and the exposure and shot the picture. This one would be a full pager, I was sure. She was beautiful, the swimsuit was almost nonexistent, and the location was to die for. How could it be any better? Not possible. 

I stood up, worked the kinks out of my back and shouted for all to hear, "That's it people! We're done! Great job by all and thank you." 

There was a loud shout of joy, hands clapping, words of praise and congratulations and then almost by magic, the beautiful people were gone. The only ones left were the guys I hired to take down the lights, the props, the backdrops, the coverings and the other paraphernalia that went into a photo shoot. My manager, Philippe, would take care of getting everything packed, loaded on the plane and then back to the states where my studio was located. Philippe was in his 50s but had the energy of a twenty-year-old. He and I had been together for more than five years now and I trusted him with my stuff. No greater trust has any woman for a man! (Corny, but I think I read something like that once.)

I was booked on the next flight out and I was anxious to get back, since I got the call last night from TT Spalding, the PI that I often worked for. When he called, I went. Not so much for TT, but because he was Maggie's husband. For Maggie, I would jump into hell without a parachute and since she would do the same for TT, that cinched it for me. Those two were like my own father and mother, since I never knew my own. 

The flight back was long but I was able to get a lot of sleep. I could sleep anywhere, a trick I learned a long time ago, when my career was less lucrative and very illegal. I needed to be sharp and quick, traits which were still good to have. Maybe a little about me would help.

My name is Pollyanna Gooding, a name given to me by a well meaning, but clueless social worker in rural Ohio. I was found wandering the streets, a seven year old, not knowing who I was or how I got there. Someone called the police, I was taken in, Social Services was called and my life in the system began. Since I had no idea who I was, someone began calling me a Pollyanna and the name stuck. The last name Gooding came sometime later but I don't know when or from whom. A lot of stuff happened, most bad, some good but I can't really remember much. I have been in therapy for several years but those early years are still buried so deep I may never get them back. My shrink says not to worry about it. I don't.

I stayed in the system until I was sixteen when I decided to go out on my own. I split one night when everyone was asleep, took all I had to my name at the time and made tracks to the bus station. I had saved enough to get a bus out of town and I ended up in Jersey City in the great state of New Jersey. I lived on the streets, stealing food, sleeping in alleys or deserted houses, sometimes selling my body if I was desperate, and just staying alive. When I could, I haunted any cyber café that would tolerate me and learned to use the computer. I had a couple of friends that taught me the fine art of hacking and for an exchange of favors, they taught me how to use the net to do anything I wanted. I survived that way for the next two years, doing as well as I could but staying independent, avoiding the pimps and the police. A miracle when I look back at it.

My life changed when I turned nineteen. I was living in a small deserted house a block away from a small strip mall. There was a photo shop in the mall that I loved to visit. I went in at first because I was cold but I became fascinated by the pictures on the wall behind the cash register. They were all black and white and were the most striking things I had ever seen. After being sent out several times when I was caught standing there staring, the woman who worked there asked me who I was and what I was doing there. I decided I would tell her a story just so she would let me stay, but when I did, she got this funny look on her face and stopped me.

"Listen young lady. I asked you a question and I expect an answer. And not this crap you're trying to sell. If you want more information about those pictures, and if you want to be able to come into my store and keep warm, you'll tell me the truth. Do you understand me?"

Well, hell yes. When she put it that way, I figured what the hell. All she could do was throw me out and that was no worse than I was already. So, I started in and before I knew it, I had told her the whole damn story. She listened without comment, stopped a few times to help customers but always came back. I saw that she really cared, made comments from time to time and seemed fascinated by my story. I blurted it all out to that lady and she listened to the whole thing. 

After I was done, the lady told me to stay as long as I liked but to be there when she closed the shop for the day. I agreed, figuring I might get a meal out of her and came back later at closing. She turned out the lights, locked the drawer and motioned me out the back way. She locked the doors, set the alarm and led me to a small car. She drove to a Denny's restaurant a block away and sure enough bought me dinner. As I ate, she introduced herself as Maggie Malone. 

Maggie told me that the shop was owned by Max Bower, a retired photographer. He was the one that had taken the pictures I was so fascinated by. She had mentioned me to him and he wanted to meet me. She told me that if I was really interested, Max would offer to teach me what he knew about Photography. I asked her why he would do this and she said he had no one to pass it on to so he was waiting for that one person who had the love and the desire that he shared. She thought it might be me. 

Living on the streets had taught me that if it seemed too good to be true, it probably was. In this case, I figured what the hell. Maybe the old boy wanted to get in my pants like most of the old guys I had experience with, but then again, maybe he was real. What could I lose? My virginity? Hell, I sold that a long time ago for enough to buy a hot meal and a room for a night. I told Maggie to set it up. 

To make a long story short, Max was the real deal. He was a sweet man, just over five foot and skinny as a rail. He didn't have a hair on his head and looked like he was about to keel over at any minute but appearances can be deceiving. Max had more energy than anyone I had ever met. And he did exactly what he said he would do. He taught me photography and I soaked it up like a sponge. I loved the cameras, the dark room, the stink of the chemicals, the frustration of taking shot after shot only to be disappointed. And the joy the day the shot turned out just as I planned. Max was with me for it all. When I was down, he lifted me up with a word or two. When I was full of myself, he took me down. But through it all, he taught me. And I learned.

Max died two years after I met him and to my surprise, he left all of his equipment to me, the shop to Maggie and the loft where he lived to both of us. Maggie and I discussed it, decided to keep the shop since Maggie and I could run it, and decided to move into the loft apartment together. It was bigger than Maggie's apartment and I was still living in the deserted building. We sold most of Max's furniture since it was older than he was and moved Maggie's stuff into the loft. I was in seventh heaven, my first real apartment and a wonderful friend that didn't want anything from me but my friendship. And the studio! Life was perfect.

Over the next two years, I got better and the shop did well. Maggie and I were getting along great and we had enough money to stay independent. I started to get some photography gigs and did pretty well. More and more, Maggie was running the shop by herself while I traveled, doing some magazine work and the occasional wedding for some celebrities. The money was good and I was getting a reputation. We were comfortable and life was even better.

I was looking over some prints one evening when Maggie sat down beside me and tapped me on the shoulder to get my attention. I pushed the slides away and gave her my undivided attention. She asked me if I had noticed a gentleman that came into the shop regularly. His name was Spalding. First name, TT. I asked her what the hell TT stood for and she just shrugged. Said it didn't matter but did I remember him? I thought about it and I could just see a short, good-looking guy, about Maggie's age or a little older, very friendly. Yeah, that was him. I told her I could place the guy and asked why. 

"He asked me out on a date. Today, when he came in. Just walked right up and asked me out on a date. To dinner. And a movie." 

Maggie seemed confused, but I didn't know why. I was surprised that more guys hadn't asked her out. She was a knockout. Beautiful, blonde, leggy and with a rack that could have earned me a lot of money in the day. But she was straight, not the type to hop into bed with a guy just because he asked. In the two years or so I had known her, I had never known her to go out on a date with a man. Not once. 

"He seems nice, and he's cute so what's the deal? Did you say yes?"

"No. I told him I had to think about it. I'm thinking about it. That's all. I think he's cute too. But that's not the issue."

"What is the issue? A guy asks you out, you say yes or no. That's all there is to it. Just yes, or no. He doesn't look like a perv, so no big deal." I was surprised when she shook her head at my words. 

"It is a big deal. For me anyway. It's a very big deal." Maggie was actually shaking a little and her hands were cold when I gripped them.

"Talk to me Maggie. What's the deal? Why is this such a major issue with you? He seems like a nice guy so why not try it?" I was worried now. This wasn't like the calm cool Maggie I had come to know. "Talk to me Maggie."

Maggie squeezed my hands before letting go. She took a deep breath and then told me her story. "I was married before, to a man that beat me. He hit me so many times that I came to expect it. I believed for years that it was my fault before I finally understood. I got help and divorced him. I haven't been with a man since and I'm afraid. Afraid that it will happen again. It's been five years. Five years without being hit."

God, I felt like I had been slapped across the face. This beautiful woman, my friend, and one of the sweetest persons I had ever known, abused. I thought my life was bad. This was worse. If I came across someone who treated me bad, I split. I just took off. Maggie was married and I guess she felt trapped. Well, it was over now and I had to convince her that not all men were bad. Even I knew that and I had met all kinds.

"Maggie, listen to me. It's over now and you have to forget about him. He's gone, out of your life and he has no power over you anymore. This Spalding guy seems really nice, but it's only a date. You can walk away if he gives you any shit. You know that. And you have me. I'll kill him if he tries to hurt you." 

Well, I won't go any further except to say that's how Maggie met TT and that's how Maggie and I later came to be working for him. I owed Maggie big time and she adored TT so I adored TT. That's all there is to that. Maggie may tell you her story, but that's her choice. This is mine. 

Anyway, TT called me while I was working in Fiji and I told him I could be back give or take two days from then. He said that was fine and that he had a cool job for me. Could be I could make a cool $1,500 for a few week's work. Not a bad deal he said. I agreed, told him to wait for me and here we are on the plane headed for balmy Trenton, NJ. I was going to go to work for TT and maybe make a cool $1,500? I had just finished a gig, spending two wonderful, all expenses paid, sunny weeks on the beautiful island of Fiji earning $20,000 in the process. TT was offering me $1,500 for a couple of weeks as a drone in New York City? It was a deal I couldn't refuse. Not for the husband of Maggie Malone Spalding.

As promised, two days later I strolled into the offices of TT Spalding Investigations to find Maggie sitting at her desk, pounding the keys of her computer. She was as beautiful as ever and looked happy. My heart sang every time I saw that look, knowing what she had gone through before TT happened to her. Because of him, she had learned to trust again and accept all that life had to offer. I just stood there watching her until she noticed me.

"Polly! Welcome home! God it's good to see you again. It's been a while. How was Fiji? Is it as beautiful as everyone says?" She rose and came round the desk to take me in a warm hug. I returned it with interest and pushed her back to look at her.

"You get more beautiful every time I see you. God, Maggie, I'm so jealous." I laughed and sat down on the corner of her desk. "Fiji is more than I expected. It was gorgeous and I enjoyed every minute of it. Of course, being surrounded by the beautiful people helps."

"Ha! And how many of the beautiful man-people did you enjoy? I bet you had a little fun on the side?"

"You know me too well Mom! But, just one this time. I was busy and then TT called so I cut it short, but he was a real winner! I may use him again. As a model, I mean." I laughed because she knew exactly what I meant. Maggie did know me too well. 

"Good for you. You need to find a good man and think about settling down. But, if I know you, that's not going to happen for a while." She pushed the buzzer, letting TT know I was here. "Go on in. He's waiting for you. Be nice now." 

I walked in to find TT at his desk, his feet up and his chair balanced precariously on two legs while he held his precious copy of Mickey Spillane's novel, The Snake, which I knew was one of his favorites. It was battered, dog eared and worn, but he still kept it. I think it was the first one he read. In his honor I had read a couple of the Mike Hammer series and actually enjoyed them. Not really my cup of tea, but worthwhile. Mostly because it made TT happy that I would take the time.

"Hey, Polly O! How you doing? Heard you were on vacation on some island in the South Pacific or some such. Do any sightseeing? You weren't actually working were you? Wouldn't want to take you away from shooting pretty pictures. At least unless you were making some real money, like I pay. Fifteen-hundred smackers, just to be your pretty self."

I laughed, not ever letting him know what I really did for a living. As far as he knew, I was a photographer who did weddings and funerals for a couple of hundred a pop. Maggie wouldn't tell him and she wouldn't let me. She said he didn't need to know that I didn't need him to make a living. As long as I was cool with it, she wanted me to keep it that way. So, I did.

"What's the caper boss. What do I have to do this time?" 

Caper, jargon right out of his precious Mike Hammer novels. I knew that was the way to his heart. He was always going to write the next Mike Hammer novel, just like a ghost writer as he put it. He plugged away at it, and it seemed like he had been doing it for the last several years. I wondered if he were serious about it or just in love with the idea of it. Well, it was not my place to decide. 

TT put his precious book in a drawer of his desk and gave me his full attention. It was time for business and in spite of appearances, TT was the best. If he couldn't handle a case, it couldn't be handled. Between TT, Bruno and I, we had solved more than a hundred cases between us. Not all were pretty and not all were easy but we completed them all, 100%. Bruno was the electronics, I was the picture taker and infiltrator and TT was the brains. Speaking of Bruno, I wondered if he were in on this. I enjoyed working with him but he and I were just friends. Never went any further, although I wouldn't have minded. 

"OK, doll, here's the deal. I have a client, name of John Harris, who knows for a fact that someone in his office is ripping him off to the tune of four or five-grand a week. He has been trying for more than six months to catch the guy or gal but so far, nothing. He had the books audited but the shortage never shows up. Yet he knows it's there and someone is skimming."

"So how does he know it's just not coming in? Could be his business is not as good as he thinks and the money just isn't real. Happens."

"Let's just say he's convinced me that he's right. Trust me on that, OK? Take it as fact that the money is missing and going into someone's pocket. You are going in as a part time bookkeeper and your job is to find it. I don't know anyone better at that than you. How you got so smart about books and money laundering and embezzlement is beyond me but you produce so the job's yours. It's just you and me on this one. No need for Bruno's talents."

How I got so smart is another story and maybe some day . . . But for now, I would accept TT's word since he was never wrong about stuff like this. I got all the details, got the name of my contact inside the company and told him I would be on the job come Monday morning. I needed at least two weeks to find out what I could and then we could touch base. TT agreed, asked me if I needed any seed money to keep the bills paid until we collected on the job but I assured him I was OK for a while. Actually, I had enough to hold me for the rest of the year and it was only April but he didn't need to know that. Bless his heart for asking though. That was just like TT. 

I touched base with Maggie on the way out and made plans to go shopping with her as soon as this job was done. Maggie loved to shop and she loved to help me pick out my stuff. Said it kept her young to shop with me. If only Maggie knew that I wished I had her body and her looks. She just never recognized what God gave her. I should be so lucky!

I spent the weekend working on the proofs from the past two weeks of shooting. They were pretty darn good if I did say so myself. The location had a lot to do with it, bringing out the best of the young gods in bathing suits and these particular youngsters were very beautiful. As I scanned the thumbs for the ones I wanted to enlarge, I noticed one particular young Turk and remembered a very special night when he acquainted me with the finer points of erotica. He had some moves that even I had not seen before, but he was also very pleased by what I was able to show him so it was a fair exchange. He actually expected me to call him when we got back, Silly boy. But after a few reflections about a particular time under the stars, maybe I would.




TT Spalding-Polly's Story



I finished the work, made contact with Philippe and made sure the equipment was safely on the way. He assured me it would be home and in my studio by Monday afternoon. He wanted to know how the proofs came out and I told him we were golden. He laughed, said it was not a surprise to him and he would see me later. Good old Philippe, always dependable and good for my soul. 

Monday morning found me dressed in a simple skirt and blouse with my hair in a ponytail and wearing solid working shoes with matching socks. I looked like a part time bookkeeper and reported to my contact in HR. Within an hour, I was at a desk with a computer and the master access code that give me complete access to the corporate server. From there I could access any and all files and databases. This is what I did well. Give me a computer and I would locate the last dollar in any account in the world. Not bragging, but I could actually do it. I could have been wealthy by cyber stealing but that was against my own principles. Not cool.

For the next three days, I called up and examined every single transaction that Wallace Inc, the company I was working for, made. Their business was importing clothing from China and Taiwan. Most of it was designer label and was ordered by particular stores. Each account had its own label and designs. All on the up and up. Only the biggest clients could afford their stuff and they paid top dollar. That's where I started looking. By going back over the history of purchases and disbursements, I began to see a pattern. 

The same pattern that Mr. Harris came to TT about. Historically, the imports and disbursements were slowly increasing, showing a nice growth rate. But, about two years ago, that growth rate slowed and by the end of the first year, had begun to level off. Yet all of the numbers indicated the growth rate should have increased. During the second year, growth was flat, even though imports and disbursements increased. Prices were steady so that was not a factor.

Now that I was convinced that Mr. Harris and TT were correct, I began to examine the sales personnel and the inventory personnel. Somewhere in those files I expected to find the skunk. I only needed time. I spent my days working the computer, printing out files that I wanted to go over later and evenings were spent finishing up the layout for the magazine article I had completed. Things were going great and I was pleased. I expected to finish this little caper for TT by the end of the second week for sure. Then things took an unexpected turn.

It was Friday, the end of the first week and I was deep into an examination of the files of three people I had flagged for concern. I wanted to dig deeper into their files so I tapped the HR database and somehow came to the attention of the Head of Personnel. He was not on my watch list but he was also not privy to what I was doing there. So when he stumbled on to my search of his information files, he came to see me. 

I was deep into a search of one of the suspects when I became aware that someone was entering my little cubicle. I hit one of the function keys to bring up an innocuous screen that would hide what I was really doing. I glanced up and batted my eyes when I saw a good looking man about thirty-five or so standing there watching me. I recognized him as Carson Palmer, the Personnel Director and decided to give him the innocent act.

"Excuse me but what are you doing?" 

He seemed angry and I was even more convinced that innocence was the right way to play this. As I thought of an answer that would sound convincing, I had a sudden thought. How could a civilian, a personnel guy, catch me digging into some personnel files? No one who wasn't a pro in this area should be able to track me. I was damn good at what I did and I had never found another person who wasn't a computer pro who could track me. Ever! Something was rotten in Jersey!

"I'm sorry? I'm working on tracking some shipments from Taiwan that seem to be late. Did I do something wrong?" 

I put a look of panic and fear on my face as I looked up directly into his eyes. Guile was one of my better acts. Innocence just dripping off me, I stood and put my hands together in front of me and started to look wildly around. I was really getting into this act. But more important, I suddenly decided I would find out more about our Head of Personnel!

"Were you trying to access some Personnel files? Someone from this computer station showed up as trying to access my files." 

He was looking around my desk and actually picked up some papers I had laying there in case someone checked on my work. They were actual bills of lading that referenced some existing orders. He looked at them and tossed them aside, apparently convinced that it was some sort of glitch. 

"No sir! I wouldn't have access to that kind of information. I only have limited access for this job sir. Please, you can ask Mrs. Evans. She gave me the access code." I kept the fear look but dropped the panic. 

"I guess it was some sore of error in the system. You're not in trouble. I'm sorry to bother you." He was about to turn away when he looked at me again with a small smile.

"I haven't met you before. I'm Carson Palmer and I'm head of Personnel. Have you been here long?" He was relaxed and smiling now. So, that little crisis was past.

I gave him my cover name. "I'm Susan Marks, and I just started Monday. It's just a two-week fill in position. I'm glad to meet you." 

I held out my hand which he took and then held far too long as he stared directly into my eyes. He had nice eyes, a deep green that had little flecks of gold in them. I could get used to looking at them, but I noticed the ring on his finger. Married! All the cute guys were either married or gay. Just my luck.

Carson Palmer stayed a few minutes and made it clear that he was hitting on me, a fact that only reinforced my desire to get into his files. While I was not a prude and had done my fair share of kinky stuff, I had a thing about married men. They were taboo! I was going to make it a priority to check on this slime ball, but I was going to use a great deal of care. Since it was late in the day and I had been caught due to carelessness on my part, I decided to put it off till later. Just one last little thing to do and then I was on my way home to change into something a little more funky for a date with a guy from the stockroom that hit on me my second day here. He was cute, sexy as hell and could be fun. A job with benefits! 

Stockroom guy turned out to be a winner, so after a really great weekend, I was back at work and hard at it on Monday. Carson was not in his office, a fact that I confirmed myself so I began to open some very personal files. His, of course. I had done a little homework over the weekend, accessing the Personnel files via a worm I installed last Friday just before I left. It allowed me to register as a valid user so I could log in and not be flagged by the little program Carson or someone else had installed. I pulled up the files, traced them through the system and found exactly what I was looking for. I started working in earnest then and continued through the day. By quitting time, I had what I needed.

What I found was that the two disbursers were modifying orders from several of the largest buyers. The way it worked was that the actual order would be for 2000 pieces of some item. The bad guys would alter the posted order to show only 1000 pieces. All other system trackers would continue to make the real order come out right but the tracking would show that order to be 1000 instead of 2000. The difference in collected monies would be diverted into a separate account that was eventually used to transfer funds into an offshore account. It was quite complicated but it worked. Only three people had access to those accounts. You guessed who the third person was.

I called in to work sick the next day and instead, called TT. I told him I had the information he wanted and made an appointment to see him and Molly later that day. TT was always ready when I called. Made me wonder if he didn't already have some way of knowing what I was doing. Spooky, but it wouldn't have surprised me. TT seemed to know everything. He was too much like his hero, Mike Hammer. Mike always knew things he shouldn't have known. 

I met with TT and Maggie that afternoon, all of us sitting in TT's office. Maggie had found another comfortable chair somewhere and the three of us were together, me with a Pepsi and Maggie with a cup of tea. TT was just leaning back, his hands crossed over his ample belly waiting. "OK, Polly O, talk to us. What did you find? I bet it was more than one and I bet I have a good idea who was the ring leader. A guy named Palmer?"

"How in the hell did you know that? He wasn't even one of my primary suspects. At least until he almost caught me going through his files. The creep even tried to hit on me, and he's married." I was floored! How could he have guessed? He wasn't human!

"It wasn't all that hard. I went through the files of everyone in his organization, pulled up some bank records and credit cards on the old computer and did some checking. I had this case for a few weeks before I called you, you know. I'm not totally inept! Give me a little credit. Anyway, there was something wrong with our Mister Palmer and I couldn't figure out what it was. But I knew he was dirty. That's where you came in. Maggie reminded me that no one is better at sniffing out dirt than you, Polly O. No one!"

I was slightly mollified but I was still stumped. I didn't see it when I went through the same records TT had. It just wasn't fair. He was really something else. No wonder Maggie loved the guy. He was superman and she was superwoman. They made a pair for sure.

I went through the information I had gleaned from the files, the records I had dug up, and the deposits made into an offshore account for Carson Palmer and two others who were in the disbursement department. Seems they were hired personally by Mr. Palmer. No one would ever think to look at them for this. But Carson Palmer kept impeccable records and I had copies. TT was pleased with the stuff and he and Maggie began to ask questions. Maggie took notes while I went over everything. I gave her the numbers of the accounts and she promised to contact a source at the FBI. He could track those accounts and freeze them under some new part of the Homeland Security laws. It was a done deal.

"Great work Polly O. Maggie will cut your check today so you don't have to wait. I appreciate it but I know you have bills to pay just like I do. So, thanks for your time. We'll put this scum away and leave Mr. John Harris a happy man. Probably offer you a full time job with his company as a security expert. Hope you don't take it though. I like having you around." He glanced over at Maggie but she just smiled back at him. There was no lack of trust between those two. 

I walked out with Maggie who shut the door behind her and laughed as she hugged me. "Thank you for that. He really believes he is helping you out. And he knows you love this business like he does. That's important to him, so it's important to me."

"For you, anything. You know that. And TT is too smart for his own good. You just keep an eye on him. He scares me sometimes." 

We hugged again, made plans to meet in a week or so for some shopping and I left for my studio. I kept it even after Maggie sold the shop and moved in with TT. I live and work there still. Regardless of what stuff I acquired or how much I made, this was home to me. It was the first place I ever felt was mine; it was the place where I grew to know and love Maggie, my best friend in the whole world; and the place where Max taught me the skills that gave me my life and a reason to dream of something better. I had come there as a tough young girl, living on the streets, making my way by myself and beholden to no one. I had nothing of my own but my wits and my pride, Maggie and Max gave me hope, love and a life that has turned out to be pretty damn great. Max is gone now, but Maggie is still here and still my best friend. She and TT and Bruno are my family and I love them to death!

More to come.



TT Spalding: The Conner Case



Many of you have read and enjoyed the TT Spalding PI stories I post so I thought you might like to meet some of the other characters. Bruno and Polly work for TT on most cases, but so far I haven't said much about them. This story is about Bruno and his part in one of TT's cases. It was the Conner Case.

Edited by Angel Love with my thanks as always. 

Bruno and the Conner Case.

I got a call today from TT. You know TT Spalding, the PI? He just got a new case and wants me to drop everything and get right on it. Like I don't have a life of my own. Nothing to do but stop what I'm doing and hop right on his stuff. I know he lives for this shit, since all he talks about is his job and that stupid fictional character, Mike Hammer. Who the hell is Mike Hammer anyway? OK, so he's before my time, but come on. I don't read crap like that. He's not real, not like TT himself. As far as I'm concerned, one of the best PIs anyplace is TT. I know since I've been with him like since forever. Anyway, he wants me on it and it seems like a straightforward deal. 

TT says this case is a real gem. It's about a woman who wants to catch her cheating husband with his secretary. She's convinced he's bopping the bleached blond bitch (her words) that works for him and he's doing it in the office after hours. She must have sold TT on it as well cause he wants me to get right on it. Says she's a real looker and has a body made for sin. As if TT was going to do anything about it. That's a real laugh. He's married to Maggie and Maggie would have TT's ass in a sling if he so much as thought about another woman. Hell, TT is so much in love with Maggie that he can't see straight if she so much as yells at him. Goes into a funk if she gets mad at him. I guess I don't blame him. Maggie is one of a kind. Beautiful, smart, hard working and loyal as all hell when it comes to TT. She turns a lot of heads and attracts a lot of male attention when she goes out but the only head she pays any attention to is her husband's.

But back to business. I'll do just what TT wants as he knows perfectly well. He is the only person in this black hole of a world that I would do anything for. TT saved my life a long time ago and I owe him, big time. He never asked for anything in return and he gave me this job a while back just to help me out in a time when I needed it. I'm still here, even though I've gone on to become a relatively rich dude. Some of my inventions in the electronic spying arena have done quite well. I have a few patents that will keep me in spending money for a long time to come. TT knows that but never mentions it when he calls. Just assumes that I love this shit like he does. Well, I'm not going to burst his bubble. But I'll tell you this: when he calls, I answer. That's a fact.

I put things to bed for the night, made a few calls and cleared my schedule. I liked to be ready when I went in to see the boss. That's what TT would always be for me: the boss. He and I spent several years in the field together when he worked for the DA. He was what they called a special investigator and was one of the best. That's when TT and I got together the first time.

TT found me on a case he was working. It involved drugs, some very bad men, and me. I was the 'wires' guy for a gang that was building their reputation in the drug distribution business in the Bronx. I disabled alarms, opened doors and tracked shipments that the others would hijack. Anything to do with wires and computers. They were building their business on the back of the competition. Me, I worked for drug money. I was a junkie at the time. Yeah, that's right. I'm not proud of it but there it is. I was hooked on crack and those I worked for liked it that way. They could control me and I would do what they wanted for enough to buy a fix.

It was not a nice story but let me just say that TT found me working my trade on an alarm system in a building he was staking out. He collared me, took me in and listened in to the interview. I guess he saw something in me that he liked because the next thing I knew I was working as his CI: his confidential informer. He put me back, made sure I was wired and let me do my thing. A few days later when he had the whole gang in one place and in possession of a million dollar cache of cocaine, things came to a head. The place swarmed with cops and it went down without a shot being fired. After the bust, I was singled out and taken to a small room. TT came in, talked to me, said some things that drove my situation home and then made me a deal that put me in rehab. Afterwards, he took me in, set me up in business as an electronics expert working with him and the DA's office and made sure I kept straight. 

He was a hawk, always on me to make sure I wasn't using or carrying. He never let me out of his sight. There was one time I scored a bag and was about to find a quiet place to shoot up and get high but he found out. I still remember it. TT caught me with the stuff and never said a word. He just took me to his apartment ( he lived alone at the time, before he met Maggie), had me sit down on his couch and then he said to me, 

"If you're going to kill yourself, that's your choice, but I'm going to make sure you're safe while you do it. No one else is going to kill you. That's your job so go right ahead. You just go ahead and put that shit in your veins and scramble your brains. That's what you want to do. So go ahead. But you're going to do it in front of me."

Well, hell! I looked at him, sitting there so damn quiet and serious and I said, "I can't do this when you're watching me."

He said, "That's too damn bad because I'm not letting you out of my sight. Go ahead: shoot up and get stupid. Make your momma proud. I'll make sure no one else takes advantage of your stupidity."

Well, suffice it to say I couldn't do it. The son of a bitch just wasn't going to let me go. I finally decided he must know something that I didn't. So, I took that dime bag of shit and flushed it down the toilet and that was the last time I considered doing drugs again. From that day on, if I ever got in trouble, I called TT. If I felt the need to do the deed he would always respond. If I just felt like shit and needed someone to dump on, he always responded. Always. 

We worked together for the DA for about three years before he decided to go private. By that time, I was straight and had been all that time. I had begun to see some money coming in from my patents, patents that TT showed me how to file, and I was doing pretty damn good. That empty feeling that demanded the release that cocaine gave was gone as well. Finally, someone else had filled it. A good friend, someone who believed in me and found something worth saving. When TT told me that he was going to quit the DA's office, and asked me to come to work for him, I told him I didn't want a full time job but that all he had to do was call and I would come. We shook, and that was that.

You know most of the rest. He set up his PI business and TT Spalding Investigations was born. He met Maggie a year later when he hired her as his secretary and gal Friday. It was love at first site, at least for Maggie and TT had no chance. She set out to snag him and he proposed three months later. I was best man at their wedding and Polly was maid of honor. That was the first time I met Polly. She was cute, sort of bubbly and very eager but not my type. The feeling was mutual and we became friends, but nothing more.

But back to the case. When I came into the office, Maggie was working in front at the computer. She smiled when she saw me and rose to give me a kiss on the cheek. 

"Bruno! How have you been? It's been too long since you were in. You know better. Just because TT doesn't call doesn't mean you have to be a stranger. You'll have to come to dinner some night next week."

"I know Mags and dinner sounds great. It's my fault. I've just been too busy to keep up my social skills. You know me, the social king of the Bronx."

"Yeah, I know you too well. Go on in, he's waiting for you. This one should be a breeze for someone like you."

I walked in and saw TT sitting in front of his computer. Typing! Oh no! It was probably more of his crap for that great novel he had been writing for the past three or four years. It was his only vice as far as I knew. He saw me and waved me to one of the chairs in front of his desk, but I made my way to the comfortable chair behind his desk. He always kept those damn plastic chairs in front, to make the clients uncomfortable enough to keep the visit short. Hell, I wasn't a damn visitor so I went round and took a seat, waiting for him to finish.

He stopped, hit the save button and looked over at me. I felt a cold shiver go down my back as I knew this was going to be bad. "Listen to this and give me your opinion. If it's a good opinion that is. If it's not, just keep your damn mouth shut." He read from the screen.

I was hiding in the closet, the louvered door giving me enough of a view to cover the full scope of the room. She was moving around the bed, her golden hair reflecting the light from the single lamp. She was wearing a silk robe that hid untold treasures behind that thin barrier. She went directly to the picture over the bed and moved it aside to reveal the wall safe behind it. She stared intently at it for more than a minute before replacing the picture, straightening it. Did she have the combination? I wasn't sure but the way she smiled told me she did.

"Well, what do you think? Pretty good huh? Sound like something Mike Hammer would say don't you think?"

Tactfully, I kept my mouth shut and just nodded my head. I forced a smile on my face and hoped it would get me through this. Hell, I wouldn't know good literature from a hole in the ground and I had no clue what Mike Hammer would say. Far as I knew, he never said anything. Wasn't he just a fictional character? 

It apparently didn't fly as I saw a grimace from TT. But, he didn't say anything so I breathed a sigh of relief. Made it through another mine field called 'give me your opinion'. TT swiveled his chair around to face me and began.

"OK, here's the deal. Got a woman named Amanda Conner. She's a real looker by the way. Tall blonde, ice blue eyes, skin like alabaster and legs that go on forever. She fills out a sweater like you wouldn't believe. Maggie likes her so maybe she isn't what I think she is. She says her husband is banging the secretary and she wants proof. Says she wants to take him for a bundle, but there were a lots of tears on her part. Looks to me like there's a jilted trophy wife who is sorely pissed and isn't going to settle for second place."

TT handed me a folder with most of the stuff I needed. SS number, credit card numbers, phone number for cell and land lines, picture and other stuff for the mister. Name was Ryan Conner, and the picture showed a man of age 45, black hair, grey eyes, good build and nice dresser. Top of the line suit and what looked like a Rolex on his wrist. The cuff links were gold and probably real. Worked as chief operating officer for a company out on the island that handled transport and shipping from the docks. Import/Export business it said on a business card I found in the folder. Right there I was suspicious. What the hell was an Import/Export business anyway? Anybody really know?

TT continued once I had a glimpse of the guy. "I got the feeling the wife really loves the dude, but seems to me there might be more to this than meets the eye, you know? I want you to do the routine but also keep your eyes open for you know what. Anything out of place, anything not what it should be, that sort of thing. You know the drill."

I did know the drill. How often did we find one grieving spouse trying to pull a fast one on the other? Too damned often! In this case, TT wanted me to hit the wife as well as the husband. TT had obviously spotted something and his instincts were almost always right on target. I had learned to trust him in matters like this. I had to ask though, "Are you bringing Polly in on this one?" It would make a difference in how I handled this.

TT shook his head negatively. "Not this time. Don't think we need to for this one. Do you?"

"Negative. I can handle it myself. Same deal? $800?"

"Same deal."

I headed out with my file and an idea of what I would need. I gave Maggie a goodbye kiss on the forehead and left to do my thing. I smiled to myself on the way back to my Hummer. It was a full size Hummer, not the H2 or the H3 toys. It cost me just under $75K loaded with all the options. As you can see, the $800 was just a token for me. Hell, one of my cameras was worth more that that. I always spent more than $800 on the job but I don't think TT really knew that. He believed the money was good and that I was making out on the deal. He'd never hear different from me. I wondered, not for the first time, about Polly. Same had to be the case for her. She was a successful photographer as far as I knew. She probably lost money on his deals as well. Wonder what her story was. 

With the information TT gave me, I set up my plan. First thing was to make a visit to the office and gave the secretary in question my card. The one indicating I was a rodent removal specialist. I killed rats in other words. (I thought that was a clever play on reality). That was the first step. I found my way up to the right floor, went in the office and spotted the bleached blond right away. She was really hot! No wonder the Mr. was banging her. But, I was here on business so I shoved my eyes back in my head, closed my mouth, wiped off the drool and went up to her.

"Excuse me. I'm just making the rounds, and I was hoping to leave you my card. I just started my own business in extermination. My specialty is rats. Rats of all kinds and sizes. I kill them quickly and quietly. You might not need me now but you may some time in the future. So, please would you keep my card on file?"

I gave her my best smile and a look that should have made her think I was desperate. Whatever, she smiled back, flirted a little, told me her name was Cindy, and took my card. I took a look down her cleavage, knowing she was making it easy for me to do so and kept my eyes there for that fraction of a second too long that would make her happy. She expected it and I obliged. A few more words and I was out the door on my way back to my Hummer. 

The next step was to visit the wife over in Jersey. They lived in an upscale suburb as you would expect. I found the place easily and cruised past, scoping out the area. There were a lot of trees and large open spaces, so it was simple to find a place to watch the house from. I made plans to set up a remote camera that I could monitor from my laptop. In all modesty, to call it a camera was misleading. It was computer controlled, satellite linked and top of the line with a few more improvements of my own. That baby could see a mouse trying to sneak into the house from a block away, and it knew what the mouse was thinking before the mouse did. It was also equipped with a remote zoom control. I needed a few days of observation to see what I could see, so I set it up to record only when movement from the house activated it and I could monitor it from my Hummer or from my own place. 

Two days went by before I put the next phase into effect. I waited till the office where Mr. Conner worked was closed for the night and broke in, going in through the window I had jimmied the last time I was there. First floor window of course. Heights scare me a lot. I went in, took my box of very special mice up to the second floor and let the little buggers loose in the big man's office. They were hungry so I left them some cheese in the supply closet just inside the office. They would stay there for a while and make appropriate mouse noises. All I had to do was wait for a call, assuming the bleached blonde goddess had kept my card handy.

Sure enough, the following morning I got a call from Cindy. 

"Mr. Exterminator? This is Cindy, from Mr. Conner's office. Would you believe we have rats in the office? It sure is a coincidence that you stopped by the other day. Can you come over right away and do something? Please?"

"Sure can Cindy. I'll be there in twenty minutes. Tell your boss he'll have to leave the office for about ten minutes or so when I get there. I'll get rid of those little pests for you in no time. And thanks for thinking of me. I really appreciate it."

"OK, I'll tell him. I think he has a meeting anyway that I can shift to one of the conference rooms. It'll be all ready for you when you get here."

Perfect. I got my equipment and packed a bag with all I would need. I also put on my uniform, the one that had the replaceable logos that I used. I put on the one for 'Rodents are Us' and tried to stifle the snicker that came with it. Well, Cindy didn't seem to be the sharpest tack in the card so this should work. My last piece of equipment was the little sound emitter that sent out a supersonic sound that the mice would respond to. As you might have guessed, these weren't just any old mice! I put it inside the cage I took with me. Now, I was set.

Once there, I flirted with Cindy, made sure I thanked her for thinking of me then I went inside Conner's office, shut the door and placed the cage with the emitter on the floor. I left the cage door open but went right to work setting up my cameras and microphones. Two of them, covering the whole office. They were also motion and sound activated so they were self contained. Either would zero in on the source of either movement or sound and had a range of just under 500 feet so I could set them up to record from the controller I placed in the utility closet just down the hall. I had scoped it out on the last visit. After testing them to make sure they were working properly, I turned on the emitter and sat back to wait. Sure enough, within a minute or two, I had four tiny white mice inside the case, snacking on the cheese I left them. I shut the door, took a last look around and went out to show Cindy my prizes. Her little shiver had me responding somewhere else. God, was she built!

Back at the shop, I booted up my computer and checked the camera at the Mrs.' place and the ones in the office of the Mr. All were working perfectly. Now, all I had to do was just watch and wait. I thought it should only take about a week to get all I needed, but that was before I noticed a scruffy looking dude that came to the Missus' house a couple of times. I decided I needed to see who he was and what was said inside that house. That I could do so I waited until she left one afternoon, slipped inside and did my thing. 

So it was almost two weeks later that I called TT and requested a meeting with him. Told him I had what we needed and he seemed pleased. He set it up for last thing in the afternoon when the office was shut for the day. He and Maggie would be there, so just about 4:15, I gathered everything I needed and headed out. It was a ten minute drive over to his place so I wanted to be on time. TT hated people who couldn't keep on a schedule. He constantly beat me over the head with that. In all the years I had known him, TT was always right on time and never, ever late.

Maggie gave me a smile that caused my heart to beat a little faster when I came in. She always did that just to tease me cause I think she knew I had this huge crush on her. Not to say she was mean, but she was a woman and they're all like that. At least to me. But then you don't know what I look like. Good thing too, so I'll keep it that way. 

"Come on in Bruno, honey. Go right back. TT's waiting for you. I'll be along directly."

I hurried back to the office and set up my CDs and my pictures. I knew TT loved CDs so he could see everything in real time. He was pretty smart on picking up on people's body language. As I was setting up, Maggie came in and sat down next to TT. I saw her hand reach over for him and as always, I was moved by the love these two had for each other. Maggie the beautiful and TT the homely. A strange pair, those two. But, a pair they were.




TT Spalding: The Conner Case



I started the CD player and went first to the office of Mr. Ryan Conner. I won't go into a lot of detail but what I told Maggie and TT was that Mr. Ryan Conner wasn't banging Cindy. Matter of fact, he wasn't banging anyone. He was doing exactly what he said he was doing: working on one humongous merger with another financial firm. It was big stuff as I found out from the conversations he had with several very important people. (As a matter of fact, I looked into the stocks and made a purchase. I wasn't adverse to making a buck or too off inside info). Cindy was in and out most of the day, taking dictation, answering questions, getting files, showing visitors in and just general secretary stuff. Seems she was rather efficient at what she did and those huge mammary assets were just a distraction. After two weeks, he had been with her several times alone and did or said absolutely nothing wrong.

TT was shaking his head, not sure whether to laugh or cry. I know TT was always rooting for the happy ending. He was a real sap that way. In this case, half of the twosome was innocent. But TT was also pragmatic. He never counted his eggs before the chicken was in the pot.

"OK, so it looks like Ryan Conner is innocent of all charges. Good for the Mrs. if she cares about him. But, now tell us about the Missus. Tell me what you found. I know that look. You found something didn't you?"

"Boss, I surely did. But not what you might think. It seems the Missus had reason to suspect Mr. Conner. She was tipped off you might say."

I fired up the CD player again and played a section showing the inside of the Conner's home. I had gone back at the end of the first week and installed pickups in the living, dining, and family rooms and one in the kitchen. Neat little jobs just about the size of a penny. Thought it was necessary when I spotted that guy coming and going too often to be normal. TT and Maggie just raised one little eyebrow when they saw that part but neither said a word. I thought I saw a smirk on TT's face but it was gone in a flash.

The CD showed the inside of the living room, with the view covering the front hall and the front door. As the picture began to change, the doorbell could be heard in the background. In a few seconds, Amanda Conner walked down the hall and to the door. She opened it, said a few words but than backed up to allow a man to enter. The man was dressed in a suit and was short and slightly balding. He walked past Amanda and went into the living room. Amanda followed, looking slightly aggravated. The man sat down on the couch and Amanda stood in front of him, looking down. Then the sound began.

"What the hell are you doing here? I thought I made it quite clear to you that I was never going to be with you or anything like that. I want you to leave. Now!"

The man smiled up at her and leaned against the back of the couch, looking quite smug. He watched her for a second and then spoke.

"Well, I don't know why you feel that way. Ryan is screwing Cindy, his secretary, as we speak. He's been doing her for over a month and from what I've seen, she really likes it. I could help you get even with him. Just a little roll in the hay, so to speak. I want you and I know you want to get back at him so why not?"

Amanda's face was red and she has hugging herself so tight I expected her ribs to crack. There were tears beginning in her eyes and she was holding herself together by the skin of her teeth.

"Get out of my house, you son of a bitch! Get out now!"

"OK, but when you decide to get even with him, give me a call. I'll keep my mouth shut and you can tell him whatever you want. Just think about it. He needs to know how it feels to be cheated on. And I'm the guy who can help you accomplish that."

With that, the scene faded. Following that were three more attempts by the man to talk to Amanda but on each occasion, she refused to release the safety chain and finally slammed the door in his face. After each visit, Amanda could be seen crying.

"Well boss. It seems pretty clear to me what's been going on. The guy's name is Randy Johnson and he's a clerk in the company Ryan works for. Seems he's been busted several times for sexual harassment and is still there only so long as he stays away from the women. One more complaint and he's out the door."

Maggie was furious but TT was smiling as he listened. This was his cup of tea. Now he had what he wanted and it was clear he was thinking of how to deal with this. I had my ideas but I wanted to hear his.

TT put his arm around a very angry Maggie and kissed her forehead to calm her down. 

"Well now. I think we want to take care of Mr. Randy Johnson for all the trouble he's caused our client. He is just now a very nice man. So, the first thing to do is get Mr. Conner in here and let him know what his clerk has been doing. I believe Mr. Conner will take the appropriate action against our Randy. Then, we let Mrs. Conner know that her husband has been the perfect gentleman. That should be easy with what you have. Finally, we need to get the two of them in here together and let them know what they have and how easy it can be taken away. 

"Maggie, you should talk to the Mrs. and let her know her husband is innocent, while I talk to the Mr. That should be fun when he finds out his wife was spying on him but I can calm him down with a good talking to. Then, we'll bring the two of them together and make both happy.

"Bruno my man, you do good work. This deserves a $100 bonus." At my attempt to refuse, he said, "That's all right. Don't thank me, just take it and enjoy."

Maggie rose and took me by the hand to lead me out of the office. As she walked me to the door she said, "You know you just made his day don't you? I told him that woman loved her husband but he just had this idea something was wrong. Now he knows."

Well, that took care of the Conner case and I was all of $900 richer. Of course, I probably lost another couple of thousand in business while I was on the case, but it was for TT so I chalked it up to paying back a debt. A debt as far as I was concerned would never be fully paid. 

One last thing. I went back to Mr. Conner's office to see if the mouse problem was properly resolved to our Cindy's satisfaction. It was and she was quite pleased. After some conversation and a cup of coffee in the cafeteria, she agreed to see me socially. That was a couple of weeks ago. This weekend, we're driving up to a small cabin in the mountains that I own. She's bringing a small suitcase since we plan to be there for the weekend. A very small suitcase! Seems she thought I was very cute. I think she needs glasses but that's just me.

That was the Conner case and it turned out well for everyone but Randy Johnson. Just for your information, my weekend with Cindy went very well and we have plans to do it again. Finally, I want to extend my apologies to Mike Hammer. Sorry Mike, but I just think TT is better.



TT Spalding: The Pickering Case



A new story from TT. Edited as always by Angel Love. Please enjoy. 

For those of you who don't know me, my name is TT Spalding and I run a detective agency along with my wife, Maggie. TT is my name and no one but Maggie is allowed to call me anything else. She calls me TT except when she's mad at me about something and then it's Theodore Terrell! or just Theodore, or Terrell! if she's really pissed. I do a lot of family stuff in my work and some of it is enough to break your heart, but it pays the bills. If we're lucky we get some business espionage stuff that really brings in the cash but they're less common. We had a couple of good ones this year so it made for a happy holiday. My driving passion is Mickey Spillane and his Mike Hammer novels. I have them all, every last one. I almost had a breakdown when Mickey died, but Maggie helped me survive. It was her suggestion that I dedicate myself to writing one great novel in his style. I took her up on it and I started it. I really did!

But that's enough about me. Maggie thought I should tell you about one of the cases we handled just recently and I thought it was a nice story, especially around Christmas when it originally happened, so enjoy.

The Pickering Case

It was hard to see her now, the droplets of fog splintering the orange rays from the street light, reflecting it back and making the whole scene appear to be smoldering, almost like it was on fire. She was there for sure, hidden somewhere in that orange glow. I knew because I followed her here, my car two lengths behind her Beemer, just out of her view. She was cocky, not expecting anyone to have tripped to her scam. But then I wasn't just anyone. I knew what she had going on, and she was ripe for the pickings. Scam the scammer! That was the ticket. I was going to pull it off or my name wasn't Mike Hammer!

I stared at the little flashing cursor, fascinated by its dedicated stupidity. It would wait forever for me to do something, anything at all. Really dumb. But I had to admit, this new computer was really slick. It had a flat screen, a wireless keyboard and mouse, and it seemed so fast it hardly took any time at all for it to do its crap. I really didn't want anything this fancy, but with the money we made on the Villager Espionage case, Maggie decided I needed it. At least she did before she got mad at me. Well, tough! I loved this thing now and I'd fight anyone who tried to take it back. I saved the work and read up to where I left off.

So far, so good. I had almost two chapters now, and they were pretty damn good if I do say so myself. I was going to write the next Mickey Spillane novel and get his people to sign on. Like a ghost writer, or whatever the hell they called it. It was done all the time. Hell, I remembered reading a series of books continuing the Foundation series from Isaac Assimov, and he's been dead for a long time. No shit! Dead author's names being used by someone else! So, why not mine? Who else but Mickey's biggest fan. 

The door to my sorry office slammed open and Maggie stuck her blond head in. "Mr. Pickering is here Terrell! I'm sending him in so get your ass in gear!" She withdrew and left me glaring at the space where she had just been. Damn that woman! 

Maggie and I were fighting. It was a stupid fight but neither of us wanted to admit to being wrong. It was over her mother. Of course, her mother. The evil, conniving bitch that never liked me. Oh, she never said as much but I saw her eyes. Evil eyes, mean eyes, always watching me. Always ready to catch me doing something to wrong her little girl. She wanted to come and stay for a week or two over the holidays just to visit. What she wanted was to drive me into a heart attack so Maggie would be free of me. Too bad her dad was gone. He was an OK guy, and you guessed it, he died of a heart attack. Yeah, the heart attack was her mother!

The problem was that since we agreed that my dad would come for Thanksgiving, she decided her mother would come for Christmas and stay two weeks: a few days before and the rest after. That would put her there for New Year's Day as well and I objected to that on principle. But, the problem was that I agreed to it. Sure, I agreed but I agreed during an exceptionally intense bout of Maggie loving. You know what Maggie does to me during our lovemaking. I have no control of myself and would do anything she asked me to do. Not fair! 

I saved my work, blanked the screen and sat back, waiting. Mr. Pickering. Hell of a name. Made me think of a short, bespeckled, balding gentleman who probably worked with numbers, lots of columns of numbers. A real nerdy type. I was prepared to try to humor him and see what he wanted. Probably needed some spying on a competitor. These guys always wanted to get an edge in business. Sneaky bastards! But hey, good money in that. The man who walked in was just the opposite. 

He was a tall man, well built, muscles up to his eyeballs, dressed like a model and a face to match. Good looking guy, if you liked guys. 

I didn't. I reminded myself nervously. But I'll bet Maggie had given him a good going over. Probably watched his butt when he walked in. 

He walked with that self assurance that came from knowing he could have his pick of the dames. His type never had to do anything but reach out and they were there, in their tight skirts, low cut blouses, and bodies to make the strong whimper. My pulse jumped a notch or two and I made a mental note to include that in my novel. Just then, Maggie stuck her head around the still open doorway, gave me a look that suggested exactly what I was thinking and flashed an evil smile before asking if she could get Mr. Pickering something. Hah! Like she actually would. Maggie didn't do drinks. I waited while he turned, giving her a smile but declining. She gave me a last glare before shutting the door.

"What can I do for you Mr. Pickering? How can TT Spalding Inc. help you?"

"Call me Ian, if you will. May I call you TT? Thanks. Well, I'm afraid my request is very simple and probably very common to you. I think my wife is having an affair and I want to know who and where. Simple."

This guy was smooth. He rattled this off like it was a simple everyday request. My wife is screwing around on me and I want to know who the bastard is and where they're doing it. He didn't say but it was implied: Once I know, I'll take care of it. But I knew the type. He wasn't into revenge. He was in love with her. I could tell that right off just looking at his eyes. They were full of pain and I could see the hope flowing out of them. He didn't want me to find anything, but he was too smart to fool himself. He had to know for sure.

"You'll have to tell me more than that Ian. I'll want to know all you can tell me about Mrs. Pickering, where she goes most days, who her friends are, her credit card numbers, things like that. Are you willing to give me that information?"

"Well, some of it, yes. Are you licensed and bonded? How do I know I can trust you with that kind of information?"

"Very good questions. We have a standard non-disclosure contract that binds us and protects you. It's part of our contract with you. Did Maggie explain our fee structure to you?"

"Yes, she did. She is a very beautiful woman, and you are a very fortunate man, if I may say so."

"You may. If you can have the information sent over to us, we can sign the contracts today and begin right away. Normally, I expect the first report to be available in two weeks with a final report a week later. But since this is almost the holiday, I assume you wanted to wait till after New Year? I assume you'll want pictures and CDs which may take some time?"

"That's unacceptable. I'll take the contracts and sign them and return them with the information today, but I'd like to have this over and done before Christmas. I couldn't stand spending Christmas with her under these conditions: not knowing. I hope that's understandable?"

I considered and thought about mentioning a bonus if we did this before Christmas, but something in his eyes gave me pause. What the hell! It was Christmas and maybe we could make his a better one.

"Perfectly understandable. I'll walk you out Ian."

I escorted him out to the desk and to Maggie. I intended to stay there until Mr. Smooth left. I wasn't going to leave him with Maggie in the mood she was in. She would torture me, talking about him and the way she flirted with him and that sort of crap. But if I was there, things would be on the up and up. As it was, she did everything but grab his ass until he left. But, I was there so she was screwed and she knew it.

Once he was gone, she lit into me.

"Well, I see you had to protect him from little ole me. I guess you think I'm a real tramp, just like my mother. Isn't that what you called her last night?"

"No, I didn't call her a tramp. I called her a bitch! That's what she is you know. She's a real bitch!"

"Well, she's coming and that's final. If you don't like it, you can move out while she's here."

"That's fine with me. I'll call Bruno. I can stay with him for a week or so. He'll have me. Then you and the evil bitch can trash talk me all you want. Your mother hates me so this will be perfect for her. Me, gone."

"Don't you even think about it. You're staying and you're going to be nice to her while she's here."

"You just told me to move out if I didn't like it and I don't. So, make up your mind." 

"Do you enjoy sleeping alone? Do you plan on sleeping alone in the future?"

Damn! That's just not right! That was so wrong on so many levels! I love my Maggie to death and I love making love to her and she knows it. It's cruel for her to use that against me. Just like with her mother! But, she had me and she knew it.

"Fine. I'll be nice to her if it kills me. And it probably will."

Maggie's smile was blinding. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad. Only two weeks. But I could survive it. Maybe.

True to his word, Ian sent the contracts and the information over that afternoon. I took the folder into the office and sat back to peruse it. He had sent pictures of her, her contacts, her cell phone number, credit cards and driver's license. More, and all of it useful. I pulled out her picture and set it on the desk. 

She was a strikingly beautiful woman, mature with a face that was compelling, making you want to look at it twice. She had long, straight blonde hair, worn just below her shoulders. Her eyes were an ice blue, wide and innocent. Her skin was golden, showing an expensive tanning process. She was tall, that was evident from the picture. She had on gold, around her neck and at her ears, and the diamond she wore was impressive. She was dressed in a casual silk blouse with tailored slacks and low heels. She looked like she knew her way around a boutique or two. Overall, she made my mouth water. This was a babe!

Perfect! That was my heroine, Pauline, in my novel. I had to get that down on tape. While I was looking for my little recorder, Maggie came in to tell me that she had closed the office for the day. I mumbled something but didn't notice her as she walked over to my desk. She stood there, waiting for me to notice her which I did very quickly. I think it was the hand that stroked my hair so softly. I stopped what I was doing and glanced up at her. What I saw was enough to make my heart begin to pound and my blood pressure to shoot up. I knew in the back of my mind that Dr. Jacobs would not be pleased if he measured my pressure just then.

"What's this? I thought you were mad at me. Did I do something right?"

"Why whatever made you think I was mad at you lover? You're my man. I love you."

"Yeah, well, that's not what you said last night. Or this morning for that matter. You threatened to castrate me if I didn't stop bitching about your mother coming."

"But you agreed to be nice to her and that's all I needed to hear. Now, push that chair back so your Maggie can sit on her TT's lap."

Well now. What was this? Just because I said I'd be nice to the evil one, I was forgiven? If I had known it would be that easy, I'd have done it sooner. Maggie was moving over my now happy erection and giving me the lap dance to end all lap dances. God the woman could make me sweat just by looking at her, but when she set her mind to being nice to her man, look out! I was groaning and making all sorts of happy noises but Maggie wasn't done. I almost cried when she stood up and moved away from my now frantic lap but before I could say anything she leaned over me and yanked my pants down to my ass. While I wiggled said ass to let said pants slip over and then down my skinny legs, she was removing a pair of white cotton panties. Now you might be surprised, but I loved those panties. I know a lot of guys like the thongs or the hi cuts, but not me. I loved those old fashioned durable panties and Maggie always wore them just for me. 

The rest of Maggie's reward to me for playing nice is confidential. No play by play here. Just know that I smiled for the rest of the day and when bedtime came, well the grin on my face the next day should give you a clue as to what she did for me. God, I loved that woman! That was almost enough to make me forget her mother was due in a few days. Almost, but no cigar.

The following day I called Bruno. Polly would have been better for this one but she was somewhere in Mexico on a shoot I think she called it. Shooting who would be the real question. Polly was a damn fine photographer and she loved going on shoots. She did some famous people. I asked her once if she ever met Mickey Spillane but she just laughed at me. I guess it was a dumb question. She wasn't good enough to have photographed the Mick. Few were. The man was a legend!

I gave the details to Bruno, asked him to start a run on the credit cards and anything else he could think of besides the regular surveillance. He mumbled something about typical shit and then took it all and left. Bruno was a real technician and he would find out all there was to find about our Mrs. Pickering. Her name was Rachael by the way. Pretty name, Rachael. Not as pretty as Maggie. Of course.

It was just over a week later when Bruno called to ask to come see me. He said he had something but needed to know where to go from here. Not unusual. We often got to a point where we wanted the client to tell us how to proceed. That was standard practice for me. See, sometimes the client will be satisfied to know the spouse is cheating and wants to know nothing more. No pictures, no CDs, nothing. Just the name and dates. I liked those kind because it was often those that were trying to save something of their marriage. The others, the ones that wanted it all were just out for revenge. I hated that. I understood it but I hated it. But, that's life in the big city.

Bruno came in and showed me some footage he had taken. He was looking very bored and I knew he thought this was just a simple cheating case. He filled me in.

"The Missus goes to an apartment house down in the cheap part of town. She dresses down when she does and she goes up to an apartment on the forth floor. Stays there about an hour to an hour and a half then leaves. Nothing out of the ordinary but so far I have only a name. Question is, do I run it and try to get pictures and sound or do we just drop it here. She's cheating, that's clear." 

"Good question. Let's call the Mr. and see what he prefers." With that, I pulled the file, got his cell and called. 

"Ian, this is TT Spalding. Can you talk?"

"Go ahead. I'm alone right now."

"OK, here's the deal. Your wife is going to an apartment downtown to meet a man named . . . Rick Harris. Does that name ring a bell with you?"

"No it doesn't. Do you have any other information yet? Any pictures or proof of what she does with him?"

"No, we don't and that's why I'm calling. We can stop here if you wish or we can go forward. We can probably get pictures and sound for you as well as information on Mr. Harris. It's your call. Some don't want to know any more."

I held my breath. This was the key question. Where would he go with this?

"I want it all."

"You're sure about this? There's no going back once you see her in a bad situation. You'll never be able to forget it. Unless that turns you on. It does with some."

"God no. I love her with all my heart, but if she's cheating on me, I have to see it so that I'll have the strength to let her go. Get me what I need, please."

"OK Ian, we'll go to work. Give us a week or two and we'll give you what we have."

We said perfunctory goodbyes and hung up. This broke my heart but it had to be done. He was the boss here.  "Get the goods Bruno. Let's give it all to him and God help both of them."

"You got it boss."

I forgot about Ian and Bruno while I worked to clean up the outstanding work before the big holiday break. I promised Maggie that I would close the shop during the two weeks before and after Christmas so that she could spend the time with the Devil's daughter. It was quick work since the only outstanding jobs were long range and would continue even during the break. Money would be tight this Christmas since the long term stuff didn't pay up front. Once I collected from Ian Pickering, we would be fine. I already had Maggie's present: a necklace and matching earrings made from diamonds and citrine. November was Maggie's birthday and citrine was her birthstone. The yellow/orange color of the citrine stones with the diamonds was beautiful. She saw it once in a catalog and I ordered it the next day. Set me back a pretty penny but this was for my Maggie. She was worth every dime. I decided to pick up something for the evil one and thought maybe a nice bottle of perfume. I had a contact, sold what looked like the good stuff but were actually knockoffs. Looked real though, and for the evil one, that would be perfect. Mucho points with Maggie too. 

The day before we were closing down, Bruno came in. He usually sent his stuff in but for some reason he wanted to do this in person. I set him up for 4:00, the end of the day. He walked in, sat down and looked at me with this hangdog look on his face. OK, I'll bite.

"What's with the face? This should have been an easy job compared to some we've had. Why the long face?"

"Boss, there's something going on here and I don't know what it is. I want to show you something and then get your take on it."

With that, Bruno slid the CD in the player and we sat back to watch the screen. When the picture came on, Bruno let it play for a short time just to set the scene. Rachael Pickering, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt was going into the apartment house Bruno told me about. The camera followed her until she went in the door. The next picture showed her walking down a long hall and stopping before a door. She stood there for the longest time, shaking her head and mumbling to herself before pushing the buzzer.

Just for the record, I have no idea of how Bruno does what he does. His pictures seem to be taken right next to the people we investigate. He has cameras everywhere and he seems to be able to get right in the bed with some. I don't know how he does it and I never asked. I don't think I want to know.

When the door opened, she walked in slowly and the door closed. The next scene was from inside the apartment. It seemed to be from the perspective of someone standing off to the side of the room. The man, who I assumed was Rick Harris, was talking to Rachael and she was gesturing angrily and shaking her head. I looked at Bruno and he just motioned to follow the picture. He had the sound off for some reason. As I watched, Rachael turned and walked down the hall toward what I assumed was the bedroom.  




TT Spalding: The Pickering Case



The next scene was from a camera pointing directly at the bed. Rachael came in the room and sat on the edge of the bed. Harris followed, pulling off his shirt as he came in. She began to remove her sweatshirt while he dropped his pants. Then, he moved toward her, grabbed her head and began to pump his cock into her mouth. He put both hands behind her head and was moving so hard she began to choke. She finally forced him back, gasping for breath. He was laughing and the scene changed again. Now he was on top of her, pounding her for all he was worth. That's when Bruno stopped the playback.

"That's the overview. Seems simple so far, but here's what I wanted you to see and hear. Tell me what you see."

Bruno moved forward on the CD, found what he wanted and began playback. I now heard sound. It began where the other had but this time I could hear Rick Harris and Rachael Pickering talking.

"You son of a bitch! You promised to give me the tape when I did what you asked. Why won't you stop this? Give me the tape now!"

"Sorry Rach. I was going to, but damn it all, you sure know how to make a guy happy. I've never had a piece of ass as good as you. I'm going to get some more pussy from you before I give you the tape. Now, get your pretty ass in the bedroom and get ready."

Now, I had a better idea of what Bruno meant. I was about to ask him some questions but he motioned me back to the video playback. This time the camera was focused on her face as she was being fucked by Harris. Her face was screwed up and there were tears pouring out of her eyes. I could here the sobs as she lay there. She was certainly not enjoying this and she was being raped by any definition. That's what it was, pure and simple. I was watching Rachael Pickering being raped.

"OK. Stop the playback. Shit! Shit, shit, shit! We can't let this go can we?" 

"I don't want to boss. She's a beautiful lady and she's being raped by that bastard. I want to get him and get him good. We can't show this to the husband. I just don't know how to play this. You're good at this stuff. What do we do?" 

Bruno and I talked it over and came up with a game plan. Bruno would get the full scoop on Mr. Harris and we would take it from there. I told Bruno that I wanted in on this one and he seemed pleased to be working with me again. I trained Bruno and he always said I was the best. I have to admit, I'm easy. Flattery makes me happy. I sat back and waited. It wouldn't take Bruno long.

A week later we had it all. It seems that Mrs. Pickering, Rachael, was almost a porn star. When she was just eighteen, she had done a demonstration tape for a schlock outfit that promised to give her a lot of money for making some movies. She did the audition but later changed her mind and dropped out. She asked for the tape but was told it was destroyed when she backed out. She thought no more about it and went on with her life, happy not to have made a huge mistake. 

But the tape hadn't been destroyed. It was in a file cabinet that was left behind in a second floor space when the pseudo film maker had flown the coop. Turns out that the space was owned by our Mr. Harris. He kept what furniture was left behind and he went through the file cabinet and found the tape of her audition and it was apparently really hot. How he found her we weren't sure, but somehow he did. And now, he was using it to blackmail Rachael, threatening to tell her husband if she didn't take care of him. She had paid him some money as well but he kept stringing her along. Bruno hadn't been able to see the tape but that was about to change.

I called my Maggie into this now. She would be an ally in our scheme since she was a woman and had the devious mind typical of them all. I let Bruno give her the short version of what he found, complete with the edited video that Bruno showed me to convince me. When he finished, the look on Maggie's face told me that our Mr. Harris was about to rue the day he was born. God, I loved that woman! And once again I was glad I was married to her and not her enemy. Lord have mercy if you were.

"OK, I assume you boys have a plan? Let's hear it."

"What I want to do is to somehow frame Rick Harris and then let the police know he's a bad dude. I want to put him away for a long time. But first, I want to get into his apartment and rifle through his files and confiscate all of the tapes he no doubt got from that file cabinet."

"There's another thing. We have to get Rachael on board so she's aware of what we're doing. You leave that to me. I'll talk to her woman to woman. Then, we'll get Mr. Harris by the short hairs."

"Why talk to her? Maybe she should just find Harris gone. Isn't that good enough?" I asked with the incense of the typical male. 

"Then what are you going to tell Ian? Haven't you already told him about Rick Harris, and about his wife going to her apartment? Didn't think about that did you boys? Do I have to do everything for you?"

She was right. I looked at Bruno and he looked at me and shrugged his shoulders as if to say, 'she did it again'. Well, she was right. We had to cook up some story to offset what we had already told Ian. That was going to be some job. So, I took the intelligent path. I asked Maggie what we should do. And she told me. 

"Rachael was not visiting Rick Harris. You just got the apartment number wrong the first time you spoke to him. You need to find out who else is on that floor, make up some story about Rachael visiting a friend with a sick mother or something, and then fill in the details. You might even have to hire an actor to play the part if Ian wants to meet her. Maybe Polly can do it."

I looked at Bruno and he was smiling. Apparently he liked the idea. So, we had the beginnings of a plan to get Rachael off the hook. I liked it too. But Maggie wasn't done. 

"Next, you have to plant the evidence. I would contact Michael at the DA's office and tell him I told you to call. Ask him for a copy of the evidence they have on a Catholic Priest named Father Murphy. He was indicted for child pornography. The tape was quite graphic but was never used because the Priest pleaded guilty to avoid the publicity." 

Well now. Who the hell was Michael and why did Maggie know so much about him? This I had to ask. Damn it all! Bruno was standing there but he didn't seem ready to leave so I had to push ahead anyway. Just a casual question, no harm done.

"Ah, babe, who is Michael and how do you know so much about that case? Do you know him well?" My voice was soft and sugar wouldn't melt in my mouth I was so sweet. 

Maggie just smiled at me and shrugged her shapely shoulders. "I know him pretty well. I see him a couple of times a week. Why do you ask?"

I looked over at Bruno, waiting for him to get the hint, but he was having none of it. "Bruno, would you run out and get us a couple of cokes from the machine down on the first floor?"

A smirk now! "But boss, there's a machine here on this floor."

"Bruno?" I was glaring at him so hard I was surprised he didn't have welts springing up on his face. But then he snickered, before he turned and walked out. Damn him!

When he was gone, I turned to my Maggie and waited. I began to sweat when I saw she had that look of innocence on her face that I knew so well. She had me and she damn well knew it. I had walked into it with my eyes shut and my mouth open. Oh, well. 

"Michael is Mrs. Palumbo's son. He's a lawyer for the District Attorney's office and he comes over to see his mother two or three times a week. She broke her hip you know so I've been keeping her company. He sometimes brings his wife and baby with him. The baby is just ten months old and is a real sweetheart."

Maggie smiled at me sweetly with her hands folded neatly at her waist. I wouldn't have been surprised to see a halo floating over her head, from the angelic look on her face. Damn, I really think she set me up for that one.

"How'd you know about the tape?"

"He was telling his mother about it and I overheard him. Not something I would be asking about, now is it?"

"No. Am I going to pay for this?" I was afraid for my life now. Maggie hated it when I doubted her.

"Well, I'm going to forgive you this time since I sort of helped you jump off the cliff. And anyway, you still have some points coming for promising to be nice to mother."

"I love your mother! She is a saint, that woman!"

Maggie laughed and reminded me that Bruno was coming back. I watched her walk out of the office with an added sway to her hips, just for me. I took it as sort of a promise of more to come. God, I loved that woman!

Well, Bruno and I made our move two days later. I had indeed gotten a copy of the tape and I had it along with my tools as we took the back stairs to the fourth floor where Rick Harris had his apartment. We knew he was out and would be gone all day. We had hours to do our thing. I let Bruno pick the lock since he was faster than me and we slipped inside.

The apartment was a real dump. Dirty dishes in the sink, papers and carry out cartons scattered around the single living room, a dead plant on the window sill, a smell like something died permeating the whole place. I hesitated to touch anything until I had my gloves on. Bruno nodded toward the hall that lead to one of the rooms and I went in to find a desk with a computer and a file cabinet. Maybe the same file cabinet? Could be. I went to work while Bruno fired up the computer.

In the cabinet I found what I was looking for. There were more than thirty tapes of various women in hardcore pornography. Each had a file number on the casing and in another folder I found a list of names and addresses matching the file number on the videos. The rest of the files were filled with additional information on each of the girls, including three guys. I took them all, leaving the file cabinet empty. I searched the desk and drawers and found some additional names and addresses and took those as well. I checked the rest of the room but found nothing.

Bruno had the computer working and had somehow cracked Harris' password. For Bruno, that was child's play. The man was a techno genius. But, I've told you that before so you know. He had found a few more files that were hard-core and he looked at me for guidance.

"Trash them, or whatever you do to get rid of them. I have the tapes so he can't reload them."

Bruno did so and then did what we had come there to do: he uploaded the child pornography file that we had onto his hard drive. Bruno then did something so that the file couldn't be erased. He made up a name for the file and then buried the file in Harris' Documents file. It was now only one of more than thirty other files and Harris would likely never even notice it. But we made a note of the location for the police. Oh yes, we would let the police know about that file. 

We shut down the computer, I looked around to be sure nothing was obvious while Bruno removed his cameras, and left the apartment the same way we came in; out the back. This time we had a bag of tapes and files and folders. It was a good caper and I had fun. Now to let Maggie know it was OK to talk to Rachael. In the car, Bruno was laughing and slapping me on the back.

"God, it was good working with you again, boss! I wish you'd do it more often. You got to admit. It's a blast!"

"You're right Bruno my man. But, you know how Maggie feels about me working out in the field. She thinks I'm past my prime and you know, she's probably right. But when it's worth it, like this, I'll be there. Count on it! Now, let's go home."

Back at the office, I let Maggie know that the job was done. She called Rachael Pickering, told her that she had some information concerning her and Rick Harris and told her she had best come in. I was surprised that Maggie was so cold to her, but she assured me that she knew what she was doing. 

"This girl needs to be hit hard, right between the eyes. She needs to know how close she came to losing everything. She thought she was doing the right thing but she needs to know never to trust anyone like that son of a bitch. I'm going to explain things to her that she needs to know."

I knew Maggie and I knew she would treat this girl like her own. Maggie's heart was as big as all outdoors but she didn't like to think anyone knew it. I certainly did. She was my Maggie and I loved her like crazy. 

Rachael Pickering came in the office the next day just after lunch. Maggie told her 1:00 and she was right on the dot. I watched her come in and she was more beautiful in person than she was in her pictures.

She was a real knockout . . . 

Oh hell. You know the drill by now. She was hot, that's all I need to say. Maggie came into my office with Rachael and that was my cue to leave. I stood, introduced myself and then kissed Maggie on the mouth before walking down the hall to the little conference room we used sometimes. I had some time to kill.

I was drinking a coke and reading the paper when Maggie came to get me. She said Rachael wanted to thank me and for me to come back to the office. I walked with her back while she filled me in. Seems Rachael was almost in tears when she came in and was about to confess all to her husband rather than let anyone else blackmail her. She said she was fed up and couldn't lie to her husband anymore. Maggie calmed her down, told her we had the tape and that Rick Harris was about to be arrested and sent up for a long spell for child pornography. When she told her that, she said the look on Rachael's face was like a child given a wonderful present. She was in shock still but beginning to realize she was free. 

I walked into the office to see Rachael sitting in one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs we kept to cut down on the stay time, snipping away with a pair of scissors at the tape she had pulled from a cassette. She was grinning from ear to ear and jumped up as soon as she saw me. She came to me, threw her arms around me and pressed those DD cups against my chest, causing my blood pressure to rise uncomfortably high. Unfortunately she didn't keep me long. She was too excited.

"Maggie told me what you did for me. I want to tell you how grateful I am and to tell you I'll do anything I can for you. Anything Maggie would permit of course." Then she laughed and hugged Maggie again. Maggie seemed to be OK with what she said because she just laughed. I was glad of that. 

"You're very welcome Rachael. We just couldn't let you be destroyed by something you couldn't control. We can tell your husband that you were seeing a friend with a sick mother. I guess Maggie filled you in?"

"Yes, she did. Oh, thank you so much. Thank you and please say thank you to Mr. Bruno. Maggie told me about him. All of you, thank you from the bottom of my heart."

"Consider it a Christmas Gift. From all of us to you and Ian. He just won't know about it. But, all in all, I think he'll be happy as well with my report."

Rachael stayed a short while and then left to go home. I called Ian as soon as she left and asked him to come in to receive the final report. He asked me if I had confirmed what I told him and I assured him the news would be good. He didn't answer and hung up almost immediately. I thought I heard a sob just before the line went dead.

Well, when Ian heard that his wife had not been visiting a Mr. Rick Harris but rather a woman on the same floor by the name of Polly whose mother was sick, he was almost giddy with relief. I assured him that his wife had done nothing inappropriate during the entire time we monitored her and I apologized profusely and offered to reduce the charge by 10% for our original error, but he was so happy that he insisted on paying the full $3,000 with a bonus of $500. He told me to just destroy the report. He was going home to his wife and to the best Christmas he had ever hoped for. I slapped him on the back and ushered him out of the office and on his way home. 

Maggie came in after he left and I handed her the check for the full amount. "This will keep the wolves from our door for another month. Then things should get back to normal once the new year begins. This was a good case. A good ending."

"It was. You did good on this one. You and Bruno. We should give him a nice little bonus for his work."

"I'd rather give you a bonus. How about right here and right now? You know your Mother is due in tonight. I have a feeling I'll be awfully horny by the time she goes home. But I'm going to be nice like I promised."

Maggie walked to the door, closed it and slipped the lock. "I'm going to reward you for your big heart right now husband, and again tonight, and if Mom doesn't want to hear me making love to my husband, that's her problem. I hope she brings her ear plugs for bedtime." 

God, I love that woman!



TT Spalding - The Preston Case



Continuing adventures of TT, and again, just for fun.

Thanks to Angel Love for her editing. Any mistakes are probably mine since I continue to tinker after editing.

TT Spalding - PI

The Preston Case

I was devastated! I was sitting in my office, looking out the tiny window that faced another tiny window in the brick wall of the building next to mine. That stark, blank wall mirrored my emotions. I had never been so low. Why, you ask? My hero, that immortal writer of mystery novels extraordinary, Mickey Spillane, was dead! The creator of that wonderful character, the one that I modeled my life after, Mike Hammer, was dead. Dead, as in stiff and planted in the cold, cold ground. The injustice of it all was too much for me. I had nothing left in my life. Gone! Just like that! In his prime and only 81 years old. There was no justice in the universe!

No more "It was easy" comments from Mike Hammer, his PI. No more sexy dames slinking into his office and no more nasty comments from the cops he always was one step ahead of. With Mickey gone, Mike was no more. I didn't think I could go on. As I sat there in my dark office, the shade over the door pulled down, an open bottle of warm beer in my hand and a tear in my eye, I heard a pounding on my door. I tried to ignore it but the pounding just intensified. After enduring it as long as I could and getting no response to the repeated, "Go away!" yells, I got up and walked slowly over to the door, slid the lock back and yanked it open.

"What the hell are you doing? I've been calling you for the last hour and I keep getting your voice mail. What's wrong? Why isn't the office open? You look like hell warmed over."

That was the voice of my loving wife, Maggie, the woman who was my life partner and my business partner. She was also my secretary and girl Friday but right now she was my worst nightmare. I couldn't tell her how badly I felt and how much I wanted to just curl up and get drunk and maybe slit my wrists. She wouldn't understand. She would want me to open the office and make some money so we could go on vacation. Vacation, when my life was over!

I told you there was no justice in the world! As she followed me in, she looked around, turned on the lights and unlocked the file cabinets. She slid behind the desk she used and turned on the computer. Once she had things to her liking, she got back up, went to the door, raised the shade turned over the sign to 'Open', and walked out to fill the pot with water for coffee. She didn't even wait for my answer. My world had collapsed and she was fixing coffee! How could she be so insensitive?

I sat back down with my warm beer and my sorrow and tried to find again that angst that I was nursing so successfully before this unwelcome interruption. As I again began to sink into my oblivion, Maggie came stomping back in, slapped my feet off the desk and slapped me as well. 'Smack' across the mouth! Not really hard, but Jeez! Did I say insensitive?

"Get your lazy ass moving. We have Mr. Preston coming in less than an hour. Do you have your notes? Your planner? Do you have anything?"

"Mickey is dead woman! Have you no compassion? No sensitivity? My hero! Gone! How do I go on?"

"If you don't get your fat ass up and get busy, I'll be the one that's gone! You promised me a vacation and Mr. Preston is the key to that vacation. He's rich, he's desperate and we can take him for enough to go to somewhere nice. Now, get your ass up and forget Mickey!"

"Hey! Maybe we can go on vacation to Murrell's Inlet. That's in South Carolina. That's where Mickey lived. Can we go there? You could get a room up in Myrtle Beach and lay around on the beach and shop while I visit his home?"

"Yeah, sure, I can do that. I'll also pick up a couple of young studs at the beach and then I won't give a crap where you go. You can do your thing and I'll do mine. How would that be?" 

That threat was too real and too much in the realm of possible that I changed my mind real quick. Maggie was a real looker, a peach, a real doll. (Damn, I had to learn to talk like a real guy again). Anyway, she so much as wiggled her finger at another guy and he would follow her anywhere.

"I'll get ready for Mr. Preston. You're right. We'll go to Hawaii like we planned."

So, I pulled my notes and began to fill out the log. That's where I put all of my notes and thoughts about my clients. That's where my book would come from. The one I would now dedicate to Mickey Spillane. I thought back to Mr. Preston's visit.

He was well dressed, pricey threads, indicating money. As a matter of fact, he smelled of money. Old money, the kind that you inherit, not the new kind. He came from a wealthy family and it showed. His daddy was probably a big shot of some kind. I didn't like him from the start. Too smug, too self assured. Probably had himself a trophy wife that he couldn't keep satisfied and she was stepping out on him. Poor sap probably didn't have the balls to keep a good looking woman home where she belonged.

Not bad, but my heart wasn't in it. Mickey wasn't looking over my shoulder any more and I just didn't have the will to go on. Well, I had no choice but to take some of his money since Maggie was showing him in. I stood up and held out my shaking hand.

"Mr. Preston. Good to see you again. We have a couple of things to go over and the contract to sign before we can get started. You've met my wife? She'll be sitting in to take notes and get the paperwork started."

Mr. Preston was a tall, thin man with a sharp chin, small eyes and big ears. He looked to weigh less than 140 pounds soaking wet and if it weren't for the clothes he was wearing, he wouldn't attract a woman's attention even if he was the only man around. At least that's what my opinion of him was. I didn't know about Maggie since she was still glaring at me, and paying him no mind. I decided to get on with it to distract her.

"First, can you tell me again why you think your wife is cheating on you? Patricia wasn't it? Why do you think Patricia is cheating on you?"

"My wife is a very beautiful woman Mr. Spalding, and she attracts a lot of attention. There have been several men who made it no secret that they would like to get to know her better. But, to my knowledge, she had always refused to allow herself to be compromised. It is in her financial interests not to be compromised. But I have begun to see some changes in her lately. She is suddenly very interested in my whereabouts. She has been going out during the afternoon, supposedly with a girlfriend. She often fails to answer the phone at home when I am traveling and she seems to be shopping much more often. She was never that interested in shopping before."

I watched his face as he spoke about these things. I got the distinct impression that he cared less about what she was doing and more about whom she was doing it with. It was also clear from the way he spoke about her that he had little feeling for her. If my impression was correct, she was a trophy wife only for show. He had no love for her. I also had the distinct feeling that he might be gay. But, that was neither here nor there. 

"Well, we can certainly find out for you. Our standard contract is $5,000, with a deposit of $1,000 up front. All funds to be cash or cashier check. No personal checks accepted. The way we work, we will do a full report for you with pictures and videos if possible. If the report is acceptable, you pay us the balance of the $4,000. If you are not satisfied, we destroy the report and you only pay us $2,500 additional. We normally will have results within three weeks, unless your wife is less active than most."

Now, if you have followed any of my past adventures, you may be questioning the $5,000 and such. Well, he's rich, I didn't like him, he gave me the creeps, and his wife was certainly not getting any loving at home. So, that was worth a penalty. And since I was in the midst of a deep depression due to Mickey's passing, I was pissed. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

"Your terms are acceptable. I would like to have pictures and videos as well as the report. I have $1,000 cash as requested. I gave your wife the envelope with the cash and the information you requested. I believe we can sign the paperwork now. I would like you to complete this assignment as soon as possible."

"Excellent. We'll start today. Maggie will walk you out and you can sign the contract. Thank you Mr. Preston. Maggie? Will you see Mr. Preston out?"

Maggie's glance back was answer enough. I would certainly hear from her tonight but what the hell. I decided now was as good a time as any to call Polly. It was her turn. I offered her the standard $800 and she accepted. She would be in later today to get the information and start the surveillance. 

When Maggie came back in, she told me that all was well, the cash was in the box and if things went well, we were off to Hawaii. The extra two grand was enough to win me back some loving. When I reminded her of Murrell's Inlet, however, she gave me a nasty smile and suggested I do something with my body that I believe is impossible.

When Polly came in, I gave her the information and we talked briefly about the Missus. Polly wanted a couple of days to just follow her and then decide what to do. I agreed, told her we had an extra week anyway and left it in her capable hands. When she left, I called Bruno. 

Now you know Bruno is the best mechanic I had ever worked with, but he was also a hopeless romantic. I told him about the case, let him know that Polly was on it but asked him to do me a favor and check into Mr. Preston. There was something about him that bothered me and I wanted Bruno to see what he could dig up. I offered him the standard $800 and he accepted. We were in business.

Over the next week, we closed two cases of industrial espionage and collected a tidy profit of just more than $12,000. All but $4,000 went into the business fund and it would buy a much needed high speed camera, a couple of high frequency bugs that couldn't be jammed and a new computer for Maggie. Her old one was making funny noises. The other four grand was part of our vacation fund. A good week, offset by Mickey's passing. Well, always better some good with the bad. 

It had been eight days after Polly started that she came in. She stopped to talk with Maggie and then came in to my office and plopped down in the soft chair. 

"Well it took me three tries to get it straight but I did it. Seems she was going out with a female friend a couple of times a week. When I followed them, they went shopping, went for lunch and then went back to the friend's place. She stayed for a little while and then drove home. Nothing unusual. Always left her car at the friend's and they took the friend's minivan shopping. Just two chicks out for a good day of blowing hubby's money."

"So, there's nothing going on?"

"Hah! That's what I thought until I noticed something. On the last visit to the friend's house, hubby's car was there. The friend's hubby, that is. While he was home, the visit turned into an afternoon. At the end of the afternoon, the Missus left, hubby went back to work and the friend waved both goodbye at the front door. Dressed only in a robe! What about that?"

"You aren't suggesting . . .?"

"Damn straight. Well, straight may be the wrong word for what's going on in that house. But, just so you know, I'm going in with cameras and video. I'll start today or tomorrow. Since I know their schedule now, I know when. Now I just need to see what. Have results for you by end of week."

"Good girl. I'm so proud! Just like a proud poppa. Did you know that Mickey's dead? Died in his bed, at home. Maggie won't let me go see his house. She wants to go to Hawaii instead. Woman is cruel. You wouldn't be cruel to me would you Polly?"

"Don't even start with me! Maggie would send me to a nunnery! I'm leaving 'pops'."

And she did. Leaving me with my memories and my sorrow. Damn! It's been weeks now since Mickey left us and my grief still knows no bounds. 

Two days later, Bruno called in to tell me he had the goods on Mr. Preston and he was getting pictures. When I asked what the 'goods' were, he just laughed and told me to wait till he could show me. Bruno never let me have any advance info. Cruel man!

"Will I like it?" I asked 

"You'll absolutely love it boss."

So, now all I had to do was wait. Maggie was making reservations for our vacation while I tried to find a reason to live. I just couldn't find my rhythm again and I was down in the dumps most of the time. 

At the end of one particularly bad day where I had almost lost it during an interview with,

'a long legged dame with lips that just dripped honey and wine, hair that fell like spun gold down to her shoulders and a body that promised a good time with a quick roll in the hay,'

my wife locked up the office, took me by the hand and led me into the store room where she unzipped my pants, raised her skirt, bent over the table and told me to make her a happy woman. Well, that was enough urging even for me and I let her have it. I worked my frustrations off on her and she seemed to enjoy it tremendously since I heard her singing the theme song from 'Mike Hammer' through it all. Damn good way to celebrate Mickey's long life. As I came, I bid farewell to Mike Hammer for the last time. Woman certainly had my number!

It had been two weeks and three days since our Mr. Preston came in and both Polly and Bruno had reported their results. Both had done their usual fine job and Maggie and I were just putting the finishing touches on everything. 

Maggie read the report on Mr. Preston and asked, "How do you think we should handle this?"

"I want to call him in tomorrow and let him see all the evidence. Then I want to ask him what he intends to do with it. I'll tell him we are available for expert testimony if he needs us, just to see if he's going to go to court. Once I know he is going to go for the divorce, we can call Mrs. Preston and give her the evidence we have on him. It's a freebie for her since I don't like him much."

"That sounds like a good plan, except we should do it together. You call him in and I'll call her in. We can do it like we usually do, get both in at the same time and let them go at each other. That's more fun, don't you think?"

"Yeah, it is. I'll dedicate it as a tribute to Mickey. Let's do it."

So, at 4:00 p.m. the next day, Mr. Preston was sitting in my office, where I presented him with the evidence Polly had put together. I've always found it best to just give it to them in straight old English. 

"It seems, Mr. Preston, that your wife is having an affair with a married couple. The woman, Helen Conyers, is a friend of your wife's. They often go out shopping together but on a few occasions, they returned to her home where Wesley, her husband was waiting. They then enter into a threesome, if you will. As you can see from the pictures, it begins with your wife and Helen getting naked and then performing oral sex on each other. Meanwhile the husband jerks off watching them. As you can see, that's clear in this picture here, and here. Then he moves over to your wife, and while she is on her hands and knees with her face buried in Helen's crotch, he fucks her from behind. It all takes place over a few hours. They change positions, as you can see from this picture, and from this one. It varies, but in all cases he fucks both women at least once and they go down on each other several times. Mostly while he recovers. I will say that Mr. Conyers has a lot of stamina! I'm sorry, that's not funny to you, I'm sure."

Mr. Preston was just sitting there, stunned as he looked at the pictures. There were a lot of them. She also had one CD from which she took all of the stills. How Polly got it, I wasn't sure and I never, ever asked her. I just didn't want to know. But get it she did. And clear! Great pictures. Nothing really fancy. Not necessary.

"I hope my language didn't offend you but I like to give you the straight scoop. No use sugar coating it with fancy words. Is this satisfactory Mr. Preston? Is there enough evidence for you to use?"

If his face was any indication, he was beside himself with joy. A huge grin split his ugly face and he was almost drooling. 

"This is more than enough. With these, I can threaten to take her to court and she'll give in. She won't want this to get out. I'll threaten to put it out if she doesn't agree to a no fault divorce under my terms! I've got her! I can set any terms I wish!"

With that, he pulled out the cashier's check for the balance of the $4,000 and handed it to me without looking up from his evidence. He was really fascinated by it and I watched the slow smile spread across his face. Somehow, it was not a good smile. It was downright evil. I took the check, scanned it to be sure it was valid and put it in the lock box. Now I could go ahead.

"Why do you need this just to divorce her? This is a no fault state so you don't need a reason."

"Yes I do. The court would give her several million dollars if I just divorced her for no reason. But for infidelity, the pre-nup is active and she'll get nothing. Nothing at all!"

"So it is mostly publicity she is afraid of? What about you? Wouldn't it hurt you if it got out?"

"By all means, it would. My father would never turn the business over to me if he knew I couldn't control my wife. And there are certain other things he doesn't know that are problematic for me. He would give everything to my sister, the bitch! But Patricia's not smart enough to know that. Neither is her cheap-assed lawyer."

So, I had what I needed. Maggie was at the same time talking with Mrs. Preston next door in the conference room. I excused myself for a moment, knocked on the door and waited until she came out. I gave her the word that he definitely didn't want anything to go public so to use it as she saw fit. She gave me the thumbs up and we went back in together. 

Mrs. Preston was sitting there, looking a little lost. Maggie introduced me and told her that things were looking up. She had a story of her own to tell Mrs. Preston. 

"Patricia, did you know that your husband hired my husband to follow you to prove you were unfaithful? He is right now next door, reading the information about you and the Conyers. He has pictures of you and Helen and Helen's husband."

"Oh my God! You can't let him get those. You don't understand. He'll divorce me and I'll get nothing. Not one damn thing! Oh my God! I'm dead." 

"Well, maybe there is something that you can do. Did you know your husband was a homosexual? That he was gay?"

"I suspected he was since he only made love with me a few times. That's why I fell into the relationship with Helen and Wesley. She told me how beautiful I was and that she found me sexy. We began our affair with each other and then, after I fell in love with her, she brought her husband into it. I resisted at first, but finally gave in. I still love Helen but she wants Wesley as well."

She wiped a tear from her eye and continued.

"Most of the time he just ignored me or let me make a fool of myself trying to seduce him. He wasn't interested. And I'm not used to that. After all, look at me! Don't you think I'm sexy?"

Since she looked at me as she said that, I continued with the story. 

"Very! But I'm not the one cheating on you. He is. And, this is very important, he is very afraid of this getting back to his father. As a matter of fact, he hired us to get the information on you so that he could get you to give him a divorce under his terms, rather than be exposed. But, he won't expose you. He doesn't want this to come out either. He's afraid of his father, his sister and the chance that he won't have control of the family business. So, I think you can use this."




TT Spalding - The Preston Case



"What do you have?"

Maggie took over again and showed her the report Bruno had provided.

"Pictures of Mr. Preston and a man named Charles Knickerson. Charles is much younger and Mr. Preston has set him up in an apartment on the West side. We have receipts for the rent payments made by Mr. Preston, pictures of Mr. Preston and Charles in that apartment, pictures of them engaging in oral sex, anal sex and manual manipulation of each other's genitals. This should be enough to convince him to divorce you with a very nice settlement."

Mrs. Preston reviewed the pictures and slowly began to smile. She had him! And now she could divorce him and take some of his money and get on with her life. If she could get a million or two, she and Helen could discuss the future, maybe without Wesley in the picture. 

Maggie and I got up and quietly left the room. I told her to wait while I went back in to be with Mr. Preston. I told him that I had some things waiting for him to sign in the conference room and asked him to follow me. He stood, still looking at the pictures he held in his hand and walked out with me. I moved to the door of the conference room and opened it for him. Still looking down and smiling at the picture in his hand, he walked in. I pulled the door shut.

As Maggie and I stood there, we heard the first shout of anger and then it was bedlam. Yelling and screaming and slamming of chairs. I think I heard one of the ashtrays hit the wall with a bang. A chair was thrown and I listened for a crash but it seemed to come out of it unscathed. Well, I could afford a chair or two. It was really going on. I smiled at Maggie.

"Well, was the extra $800 I took for Bruno worth it? Was it not brilliant of me to hire him to get the goods on the Mr.?"

"You are a genius. I have to admit. Just listen to that. Isn't love grand?"

We had a good laugh and walked out with our arms around each other. It was certainly a good way to end a bad couple of weeks. My world had almost collapsed but this certainly made it worth while. I kissed the top of Maggie's head.  

"Did you get the tickets?"

"We're booked all the way, babe."

"When do we leave?"

"Tonight. Everything is taken care of. Bruno and Polly's checks are in the mail, the office is closed and the answering machine recording is in place. No more jobs till we get back."

As Maggie went home to pack our bags, I sat down in my chair behind my desk and considered my future. I love what I do and I always tried to do it as my hero would have expected me to do it. With grace and dignity, but always with humor. I followed the teachings of my mentor, Mickey Spillane. Now that he had passed on to that great guild of deceased writers in the sky he would be remembered. 

But what about me. Do I go on? Do I continue in his footsteps? My cases were simple compared to his. My characters, Polly and Bruno, were just a couple of kids with stars in their eyes and digital cameras in their hands. Neither carried a gun, just a microphone. They didn't get hit over the head with a sap, just yelled at by a disgruntled building super or suspicious doorman. They were gentle and kind and wouldn't hurt a fly, but they would gladly do their job just to find some justice for someone. But they were great and I loved them to death. 

Mickey had it good and I would miss him, but I had it better. I had Maggie. 

With a smile, I closed my log, turned off my computer and went up to be with my wife. Hawaii, here we come.

Maybe to be continued . . .  



TT Spalding-The St. John Case



We are leading up to understanding all of the characters that fill TT Spalding's life but the path is sometimes winding and uncertain. This is a prelude to Maggie's story, which will follow shortly. For all you fans of TT, please enjoy and be patient. 

Edited by Angel Love as always. Several changes in this version are at her suggestion so if you see mistakes, they are mine.

TT Spalding, PI – The St. John Affair.

I know I promised Maggie I would work on the final report for a case we had just finished, but I didn't feel like working right now. I put down my copy of Mickey Spillane's novel, I, the Jury, his first Mike Hammer book and one of my favorites (well, hell, weren't they all?) and turned on the computer. When it finished booting up, I opened the My Document folder and clicked on the file labeled The Cobra. That was the temporary title of my novel: the one that was going to be published as a ghost written story. You know, under Mickey's name as 'Inspired by'. People did it all the time so why couldn't I?

I scrolled down to Chapter 3 and began reading:

I raised my head carefully, looking over the top of the bank where I lay concealed from view. There were three of them. I spotted the first two pretty easy. Very sloppy of them, but that was good for me. Then I saw the third when he struck a match, lighting up. Stupid, but also good for me. I slid back down the little rise and checked my gun. I was loaded, one in the chamber, and two extra clips. I was ready. I moved slowly around the rise and snuck a quick look before running, hunched over to minimize my outline, to the packing crate I noticed coming in. I was in position.

I waited, looking for him to come into view. They had arrived a few minutes ago and were just now walking down the ramp to the dock. There he was! The Cobra! The man that controlled everything that went on around these docks. And he had her with him. His squeeze, his mistress and the subject of my dreams. I could just see her golden locks peeking out from under the scarf she wore. I could hear the tap of her spike heels against the concrete surface, matching his heavier sounds. They moved to the middle of a section illuminated by a single overhead light, she two steps behind him, and stopped.

After a small delay, the first two I had spotted moved into the light carrying a suitcase. This must be the stuff. The newest drug on the market. The latest designer drug for the masses. The formula was included and the purchase price was a stiff 2 mil. I had heard on the grapevine that the payoff was tonight.

I sat back with a satisfied grunt. Damn! This was good stuff. I had it going now. All I had to do was decide how to make it go down. Mike Hammer would take it slow and careful, like he did in My Gun is Quick so that's how it was going to be. Mike knew his stuff. All I had to do was have him follow the Cobra back to his car and . . . .

My office door opened. "TT, are you working on that report for Mr. Chambers? You promised to give it to me by 3:00 and it's already 3:15. You're not working on that damned book again are you?"

That was my Maggie. My rock, my love and my soul mate, but not my muse. Never my muse! She didn't understand the literary drive that was in me. I had to write this tome, my tribute to Mickey Spillane. It was a curse, but there it was. It had to be done. I promised Mickey's spirit the night he visited me. And yes, he visited me. And no, damn it, it was not just a bad case of gas like Maggie insisted! Mickey came to me! He said "TT, you have to write this book for me. Make me proud!" I kid you not!

Maggie walked in and spun the monitor around so she could see it before I thought to blank the screen. Damn the woman was fast. Fast and sneaky. But God was she beautiful when she was angry! She looked at the screen, put her hands on her hips and glared at me. I smiled back while I raised my eyebrows in what I hoped was a sexy move.

"Damn you Theodore Terrell! How many times do I have to tell you. We don't have time for this. We need the money and that report to Mr. Chambers will bring in the rest of the $15,000 he owes us. We need it now, not in a few weeks or a few months. Now! So get cracking on it and don't you dare stop till it's finished. Do you hear me?"

"I hear you babe. And you know how hot you are when you're mad at me? Why don't you come here and sit on my lap while I finish that report. I promise I'll work on it and not try to ravish you."

"Not a chance buster. I want that report and then we can talk about other things. If you get it done soon, I just might close the office a little early and then you and I can discuss our options. Maybe a visit to the stockroom to inventory the supplies?"

The stockroom! I groaned under my breath. Oh God, that was not playing fair. Maggie had made the stockroom the scene of some of my best erotic dreams. She knew just what buttons to push, that's for sure. I tried to stop myself from drooling. "I'm on it now babe. I'll get it done in no time. Just you get yourself ready for old TT."

She smiled at me, taking the sting out of her earlier words and walked toward the door, giving me a great view of her backside. She was doing her best to remind me of what was waiting for me. I knew. Oh yes, I knew! I saved and closed my latest work and opened the report to Ted Chambers. That case was closed and the bad guys were identified. Ted had cleaned house once he had the facts and he was very grateful to Bruno and I for finding the guys responsible for his losses. Bruno had taken just six days to nail them in the act. Bruno earned himself a nice bonus for that job. A cool grand!

I was pounding the keys and making some final changes when Maggie stuck her head in the door again. I was about to tell her to back off and let me finish when she said very slowly, "TT, you might want to let that go for awhile. There's someone here you'll want to talk to."

"But baby! It's getting late. What about the report and the stockroom. Come on Maggie. Not now! Not after you promised!" I was panicked. No stockroom? No Maggie on my lap? No. . . . Crap!

Maggie just chuckled, pulled back, said something to someone and opened my door. I don't know how to say this any different except that my heart stuttered in my chest and my eyes grew wider than I knew possible as this vision walked into my humble office. How do I describe that moment? Let me try for posterity. 

She was tall, about 5'10" tall. She was slim and at first glance appeared skinny but she wasn't. You could tell right away that under that simple snug white dress that covered her completely from neck to knee, she was amply endowed. Her legs were magnificent, even the little I could see between the bottom of that tight dress to the top of those high boots with the three inch hells. I noticed her chest of course. My weakness. She had to be a C cup at least and maybe more. Her waist was tiny and flared down to hips that were perfect. I couldn't see the backside but I knew it was also perfect. And the face! I had imagined angels when I was a small Catholic boy in the Bronx and this was what they looked like. Skin, pale and almost translucent, eyes of icy blue and slightly slanted, indicating some oriental blood. A mouth pouting, wanting to be kissed, lips slightly parted showing a hint of perfect white teeth. Her hair was platinum, perfectly straight, chin level and cropped close to her skull, combed over her right eye. 

I stared at her for what seemed like minutes but apparently lasted only seconds. She stood there, almost as if she was used to my kind of reaction and waited. Maggie stood in the open doorway, a slight frown on her face as she watched me. The frown was not terrible so I knew she also expected my reaction. I looked into her eyes and she smiled. Apparently I was forgiven. Maggie closed the door and walked over to her side.

"Mrs. St. John, this is TT Spalding, my husband. TT, this is Tiffany St. John. She has something she wants to show you. She would like our help with it. I'll join you if you don't mind. I've closed the office door so we won't be disturbed." 

I motioned our guest to the straight back chair in front of the desk. The one I kept for clients to make them not want to stay and chat. For the first time, I wished I had more comfortable chairs. Maggie took the only comfortable one, next to me. She leaned over to whisper, "Be good now."

"How can I help you Mrs. St. John? What is it you want to show me?" I tried to slip into my professional mode. It was difficult with her sitting across from me and my Maggie sitting next to me. All I could do was try to maintain my cool and not let my desires cause the tent in my slacks that Maggie could see all to easily get any bigger.

She handed Maggie a CD that she took from her purse. "Please put this in if you would. And before it starts, please don't be embarrassed to comment. You have to see this before you understand why I need your help."

Maggie slipped the CD into the player, turned on the TV and pushed play on the remote. We settled back to see what brought Mrs. St John into our office. I looked over at Maggie but she simply shrugged not knowing what was coming. So, we watched.  

The scene opened with a view of a large bed in a room in some motel that could have been anywhere. The camera was fixed and the view didn't change but as we watched, a naked man moved into the view followed by a woman dressed only in a thong. Her back was to the camera but there was little doubt that we were watching the beautiful ass of the woman sitting across from us. It was confirmed as she slid past the man and sat on the edge of the bed turning and facing the camera. She appeared to be giggling and saying something to the man. He then pushed forward, and the woman took him into her mouth. I reached for the remote to push stop, but Mrs. St. John spoke.

"No! Let it play! I know exactly what's on this so don't worry on my account. I can't afford to be shy. Just watch. Please!"

I sank back, embarrassed beyond belief but also mesmerized by the scene. It was like some of the worst porn movies I had seen. Grainy picture, no sound, two actors who didn't even seem to like each other but were doing a job. But in this case, I wasn't sure what to think. It went on for another ten minutes, skipping through more of the same and the two on screen did everything possible. I was amazed at his stamina and her willingness. But that was all it was. Just two people having hot sweaty sex. So what?

"I'm not sure what we're supposed to make of this other than you seem to have few reservations. Is that what you wanted us to see? You and your husband having sex? I'm sure that wasn't making love."

Mrs. St. John simply shook her head. "No, that wasn't making love and that wasn't my husband. It is me, of course. And now you have to read this note. Put the two together and I think you'll see my problem. With that, she reached back in her purse and pulled out a folded piece of paper. She hesitated, then handed it to me. I opened it, looked at Maggie and read it aloud.

My dear Tiffany. 

I took this one afternoon when you were with me in our little love nest. As you can see, you were enjoying it as much as I did. I miss those times with you. I'm sorry you decided to end our little arrangement. I had to go away for awhile after that but now I'm back.

I hope you understand that I will show this to your loving husband unless you can see your way clear to advance me a couple of thousand every week or so. Not too much, just enough to let me enjoy the finer things of life without you by my side. 

You can call me at 555-5987 and tell me where to meet you with the money. I'll give you till Friday to call. If you don't, I'm sure your hubby will enjoy the movies.

Yours,

Pete

I noticed the date on the note, folded it back up, handed it to her and then asked, "When was this taken, if I may ask? He mentions being away for awhile. And your husband. Where was he while this was happening?"

"It was two years ago. I had hoped that he was gone for good but he came back just a week ago. My husband was out of the country trying to acquire a special piece when this took place. While he was gone, I made some terrible mistakes, got hooked on crack and Pete took advantage of me. I was a willing participant at the time but after only two or three times like that, I knew I had to get my life back."

She was becoming emotional now. She had been so cool and calm up till now so I was surprised. Where before she was this smooth sophisticated trophy wife, now she was a kid in trouble. I big beautiful kid for sure, but still in trouble. I looked at Maggie and she took over.

"Tell us what happened. I assume your husband doesn't know anything about this? How could you have kept your addiction a secret?"

"I wasn't actually addicted. At least I was able to stop cold turkey when I decided to. I just woke up one day and knew that it was over. I was in trouble and I saw my life going down the drain. You may not believe me but I really love my husband. I just forgot for awhile when he was gone so long. But Pete doesn't care. He taped those sessions and now he's blackmailing me. And I can't pay that kind of money with Jason finding out. He will."

So now we knew the story. She was married to Jason St. John, the owner of several of New York's finest art galleries. His collection of art was considered to be one of the finest anywhere and worth millions. He had money and status and a wife that matched. But his wife was something more. She actually loved him and wanted to stay married to him. Blackmail could end that forever. After a divorce, she would still walk away with millions in alimony but she didn't want that. She wanted us to stop her blackmailer and get back the videos of her indiscretions. She was for real. I could tell. 

We settled on the details before she left and Maggie and I closed up the office. I took the case of course. Maggie wanted me to and I sort of felt bad for the little girl so we took it. I waited while she locked the office and came back inside. 

"What do you think? We get Bruno on it? He seems the logical choice. Maybe he can take the disc and get something from it. I don't know."

She nodded, seeming distracted. She picked up the remote and turned the TV back on. She started it up from the beginning. While I liked it too, I wasn't sure what she was looking for until she moved over and sat down on my lap. She planted a big one on me, hard on the mouth and I suddenly understood. Maggie was turned on! And so was I. 

Well, we watched that CD from beginning to end, twice, with reruns of certain portions, and I enjoyed it thoroughly. Maggie was researching techniques, or so she said and I must tell you, her technique was flawless. We researched for an hour or so till we decided it was time to go home, where we practiced some more after dinner. Maggie was dedicated to perfection. And God, was she perfect! 

Bruno came in the next day and I gave him the CD and the facts about our new client. Bruno watched part of the CD there in the office and I'll give him credit, when he stopped it, he had already seen something in the background that he said would tell him where the room was. Now come on! I watched that CD with Maggie and neither of us saw anything else but the sex! Bruno seemed to be immune to it when he was on the search. Man was a freak of nature if you ask me. Well, nobody did. Anyway, I'm just saying.

Bruno looked vague for a minute then said, "I saw a neon sign outside that window and I think I can bring it out back in my lab. I think I know what it is already but just to be sure. So boss, how do you want me to play it? If I find the guy, do I go after the videos? Do I just follow him a while to see what he's up to or what? Your call. Your money."

"I'd say go for broke. If you can, take him down. You know the drill. Just keep me in the loop and I'll help anyway I can. It's good for a grand and a bonus if you get the videos."

"A grand? Must be some client. Maggie OK with that? You know I don't want to get on her bad side."

"She's cool and so is the client. We both want to do good by her. She's in deep and sinking fast. So do what you can."

Bruno nodded, pocketed the CD and his notebook and left. He talked with Maggie for quite a while but left right after. I wondered about Bruno. I had the strangest feeling he didn't really do this for the money. He even acted like he didn't need it. How could he not? The guy lived high most of the time. Like that monster car he drove. Paid more in gas than I did for my whole car! I knew he was good at what he did and I knew he had some income from a few little patents he owned but not big money like a grand for a simple job. Right? 

Business went on and I took on several smaller jobs. Two were right up Polly's alley so I gave her a call and she took them both on. Seems she was not doing many weddings lately or so she said. I think she was just bored. Maggie was pleased to see her since they were tight and knew each other from before. Before me anyway. They worked together in that little shop they owned. The one Maggie sold when she came to work for me. Got a nice piece of cash for it and it was our nest egg for the future. 

It was just over two weeks when Bruno called to set up a meet. He wanted to show us what he had. When I asked him for advance info, he laughed and told me to get my checkbook out. That's all he would give me over the phone. I let Maggie know he was coming and we settled in to wait. Tiffany had called several times to ask how we were doing and Maggie told her that our best was on the case and no news was good news in his case. I hoped that was the case. 

When Bruno came in, he had a grin on his face like the famous Cheshire Cat from the fairy tale. Alice in Wonderland, I think it was. He sat down on the edge of Maggie's desk and whispered something in her ear. She laughed so hard I thought she was going to have to change her panties. Bruno grinned at her and looked at me with that smart ass look that told me he had it all. I knew Bruno from before too so his looks were all too familiar to me. But, in this case, I was pleased. Good news for Tiffany was what I was hoping for. 

I waved him in and he came, followed by Maggie. Bruno threw a packet on my desk with a flair and said, "Your wish is my command O Great One. Where's my bonus?" 

"What bonus and what am I 'bonusing' you for?" I slit open the packet and tilted it, dumping several video tapes onto my desk. There were also about fifteen CDs in there. I made a wild guess and said, "You got them all? All of the tapes of Mrs. St. John?"

"Her and two other ladies that you might recognize. I kept them and ran the rest through my degaussing unit. Then I burned them. They're gone forever. These tapes and one of the CDs are of Mrs. St. John. The rest are blanks now." He was grinning from ear to ear.

"Bruno, that is great work. My God man, how did you get these? Where were they? Give! Tell me!"

"Not much to tell boss. I was right about the window so I found the motel pretty quick. Watched it for a day when I saw asshole Pete come in with the wife of another one of our city's leaders. I got the room number, got his name and the rest is history. I tracked him down and would you believe, he had the stuff stored in his house? Dumb shit! I waited for him, let him know I had his shit and that if he so much as tried to get back at any of his marks, I'd make sure one of my specially doctored tapes would get sent to some very nasty people. He understood. He asked around about me and got the word."

Maggie was grinning and asked, "What about the others? They wouldn't know you got the videos away from him." 




TT Spalding-The St. John Case



"Yeah, about that. Seems each of them got a note in the mail, along with a CD, telling them that their problem with Petey boy was over. Gave each a phone number to call if he ever tries to contact them again. Pete knows that number belongs to me."

Maggie and I talked with Bruno a little more. He gave me all the details and I wrote it up simple and sweet. Final report for our Tiffany. I had Maggie write the check with a $500 bonus to give to him. Big money for two weeks work. Not bad. While she was doing that, I called Mrs. St. John and asked her to come in to see us. I told her the news was good. She said she'd be there within the hour. I smiled to myself, settled back with Mickey's 'I, the Jury' and lost myself in Mike Hammer's world. 

As promised, less than an hour later Maggie showed Tiffany St. John into the office and shut the door. Tiffany was nervous and her cheeks were flushed. Overall, I thought it only made her more beautiful but that was me. I motioned her to sit while Maggie and I waited. She did so, fidgeting with her skirt, her hair, anything to try to relax. I decided to put her out of her misery.

"Mrs. St. John, we have good news for you. We have all of the videos that your blackmailer had in his possession. He also has been warned that any further contact with you or your husband would be to his detriment. He understands and has agreed. You will not hear from him again. If you do, I have a number you are to call which will correct that situation."

She was looking intently at me and at Maggie. Her eyes were wide and she had her hand to her lips, pressing against them. I saw a tear form and run down her beautiful cheek. It was particularly beautiful because it was a happy tear. I watched it in fascination, thinking to myself that these were the only tears a face like hers should ever feel. But, I digress!

I handed her the file that I had completed and said with a flair, "Our job is complete. Can we be of further service to you?"

There was general pandemonium then while she hugged Maggie and I, then Maggie again and me again. I certainly enjoyed the hugging part and waited for another round, but I watched Maggie watch me so my enjoyment was controlled. I quickly sat down and let Maggie do the rest of the hugging. We spoke together for awhile, and offered to be of assistance if she needed us later. Maggie walked with her out to the outer office, their arms around each other, while I settled back. It was several minutes before Maggie came back in with a check for a nice fat amount. She was smiling. That was a good sign for me, so I took a chance and suggested that Maggie and I should take inventory. She agreed! Hot Damn! 

Two weeks later I was sitting in my office working on a new Industrial embezzlement case when a box arrived addressed to me. I walked around it several times, wondering if it was a bomb before realizing no one I knew cared enough about me to waste a good box just to blow me to hell. At least not by a method this sophisticated. I called Maggie in and she gave me a good piece of advice: open it dummy! So, I did.

Inside was a set of every Mike Hammer novel written by Mickey Spillane. All thirteen, beginning with I, the Jury in '47 and ending with Black Alley in '96. Not only that, they were all hard cover, top grain leather bound with embossed gold lettering and they all matched! It was a hand tooled matching set! The card included said they were from Tiffany St. John.

Mr. Spalding. I asked Maggie what I could get you to thank you for the service you gave me. You believed me right from the start and that meant more to me than you can ever know. You and Maggie were wonderful to me and this is my way of saying Thank You!

Enjoy and if you ever need my help in any way, please just ask.

Forever grateful

Tiffany.

I was touched! Really touched. This was more than I could ever have believed. I touched the books reverently, awed by their content and the meaning behind the gifting of them to me. I was choked up and I had to wipe a tear from my eye. Maggie stood beside me, her hand on my shoulder while I wallowed in emotion. Maggie later showed me a beautiful necklace, antique she said, that came for her from Tiffany. She said it was priceless. I know it was certainly something since it caught every facet of light in the room. But, that may have been because it was Maggie that was wearing it. I think so, anyway.

That was the end of that case and life went back to normal for us. I was sitting in my office, Maggie off to do some shopping while I did absolutely as little as possible, when my office phone rang. That was not a usual occurrence since it was a private line and the number was know only to a very select few. Bruno was one of those select few and it was he who the caller ID indicated was calling. As was the case with that line, I let it go to answer. When the green light came on, indicating the message had been delivered, I picked up the phone and punched in the code. Bruno's message was short and to the point.

"Boss, just listen and don't bother calling back. He's back in town and he's asking questions about her. I put a tracker on him and on his car. Don't bother asking how I did it. I don't know what his game is but he's either stupid or desperate. I'll keep an eye on him and let you know if you need to do anything. Don't call me, I'll call you."

The phone went dead and I just stared at the receiver in my hand. My stomach rolled over and my heart began to pound. I thought it was over! I thought Maggie and I were safe from him. I had fooled myself into believing it was over, but it wasn't! It was starting again! No, not starting. This time, it would end! This time it would be over for good! I would see to that.

To be continued...



TT Spalding, The Van Harding Case



The tapping of the keys was the only sound in the office. I had the door closed so Maggie had no clue. She thought I was working on the Myers report which she told me was due to her sometime today. Actually, that report was done but the cover was good for finishing the last chapter in my book. With a glance at the closed door, I grinned to myself and began on the ending. 

From the cover of a stack of wooden shipping containers, he took aim, pulled the trigger and watched the first one fall. The bullet sped across the open space of the warehouse before finding its target. The silenced bullet took the lookout in the chest, slammed him back against the wall, where he slid down to the floor, peaceful like. Then all hell broke loose. Yells, screams of anger, running men every which way, combined with gunshots. Chaos! He just smiled, moved even deeper into the shadows and watched it all go down. Both sides were now convinced that they had been betrayed and they were going to make the other pay. 

Surrounded by the sounds of gunfire, Hammer made his way through the cases of plaster statues of the baby Jesus that were in reality filled with cocaine and ducked out the back door. He had enough now to turn the whole dirty business over to his contact in the FBI. They had enough to get a conviction for Simms and his gang but there was no percentage in trying to include her now. She had run as soon as it started to fall apart. He knew her well enough to know she would disappear into the masses and never be found. That was her MO. Just disappear. It amazed him that someone who looked like her could disappear, but she had done it before. She would do it now. He was surprised by the sadness that produced in his heart. He remembered her embrace and the kiss. Just that one time, but it would stay with him a long, long time. She was gone but he would remember her.

I pushed my chair back, propped my feet up on the desk and thought about it. It was done! Finally, all the hard work was over and my great novel was done. My novel, resurrecting Mike Hammer, was finished. Now what? Where did I go from here? 

How did one go about publishing a novel? I had no idea. It occurred to me to ask Maggie. Maggie was the smart one. She had brains as well as looks. Why she had settled for me, I had never understood. It was certainly the first prayer I said every night of my life. "Thank you God for Maggie." Every night. I also asked God to make sure she never woke up and thought about the mistake she had made. If she did, I was toast! Well, prayer seemed to be working so far. It had been almost five years for us, five wonderful years that made my life worth getting up every morning. 

It had been more than two weeks since the phone call from Bruno. I couldn't stand it any more so I finally gave in and called him. It rang twice and I cursed, expecting to get his voice mail, but just as I was about to slam the phone down, Bruno answered.

"Yeah boss. I'm here. What's up?"

"Damn it Bruno. What's going on? You call and then nothing? What the hell. I gave it a couple of weeks but no longer. Give me the story. Just lay it out."

A brief silence from the other end and then, "He's gone again. Just asked some questions, made a few contacts and then, gone. My tracker lost him almost a week ago. Out of range. Gone back to Ohio. Maybe I never told you, but that's where he went when he left. O-damn-hio. Can you believe it? Got himself a little scam going there. Nothing big, just penny anti stuff."

"And? You just let him go?"

"I have contacts there. They'll let me know. In the meantime, he was asking about Maggie and about you. Got nothing. Nothing of any value. I know who he talked to and when. They knew what to say and what not to. You got nothing to worry about boss. I've got your back. Yours and Maggie's."

"OK. For now. But you let me know if and when he comes back. This time, I'm going to make sure it's the last time. Could be I'll want you to bow out at some point. You understand?"

"Don't have the foggiest idea of what you're talking about. Any new cases going? I'm getting bored with stuff here. Need some excitement in my sorry life."

I discussed some current cases and Bruno agreed to come in sometime soon to see what he could do. I did have a couple of hot ones and I wanted to get something going on them soon. I needed the money. Maggie and I needed a vacation. I had my eye on one of those island places. St. something or other, somewhere in the Caribbean. Way the hell past the Bahamas and Puerto Rico. Someplace where they spoke English and took US dollars. I was lousy at math and conversion rates just pissed me off. Seems the whole damn world ought to use dollars. Make things simpler. 

I decided to send the report to my Maggie, just to prove to her that I wasn't wasting my time. Sent it by email, just like she taught me. She had been working with me on the computer so I could do other things than waste my time writing that 'fool novel' as she called it. Wonder what she'd say when I told her it was finished? Hah! Make her sorry she made fun of me. I was thinking of her face, full of pride and chagrin, when she pushed open the office door to yell in at me.

"TT! You have a visitor. Do you have time?" She asked me this sweetly, letting me know there was a potential client on the other side of the door. Otherwise, she would have just walked in to spy on me. 

"Sure. I can take a break." 

I rose and waited. When she returned, she had a young man in tow. He was tall, well more than six feet, sandy hair cut short, eyes so blue they were almost black, and a face that screamed innocence. He didn't look to be more than twenty at the most. 

"TT, this is Mr. Norbert. He wants to talk about hiring you for some business. Mr. Norbert, this is TT Spalding." 

She indicated the straight plastic chairs in front of my desk. Put there specifically to make the client just a tad uncomfortable. I had two of them just for that purpose. He moved over, fidgeted a little before sitting down. Maggie glared at me and then left, shutting the door.

"How can I help you Mr. Norbert?" Time to get the story, although I probably knew it by heart now. Sad, but true.

"My name's Ted. Ted Norbert. I've been married for a little more than two years now to Betty, my wife. She and I have no kids yet but we've been trying. So far, no luck. But I think it's gotten to her and now I think she's cheating on me. I want you to find out for sure." 

This all blurted out without a single breath. The kid was in real pain. Just a simple honest guy trying to make his way in the world. Now it looks like his only friend, his wife, has stabbed him in the back.

I quizzed him a little. He worked in a plant that made doors and windows. He was a craftsman, he said, making very good money. More than twenty dollars an hour. His wife worked in a bank as a teller and brought home enough to help with the bills and still leave her enough for some spending money. He thought they had a good marriage but lately, Betty was acting funny, always mad at him, staying late at work and pleading fatigue in bed. It had been going on for a month or longer. He gave me more, left me with a picture of her, the bank where she worked and her schedule. I didn't need much more for a preliminary job. We shook hands, he gave me a five-hundred dollar retainer and walked out, looking sick to his stomach.

I had him sign the standard contract and was about to carry it out to Maggie when she stuck her head around the door again, this time with a strange look on her face. "TT, do you have time to meet a visitor?"

My gosh! Two in a row? Maggie was still giving me that strange look. Must be a good one. "Of course. I have some time just now." 

She came back in, holding the door for a goddess! Had to be someone sent from the gods to look like that. Tall, about five foot-eight, slim figure, fantastic hips and a rack that should have made her top heavy but which she carried with dignity. Long, lustrous black hair, worn straight, framing a face right out of Vogue. Her skin was porcelain, and her eyes were a deep, rich brown with a slight oriental slant. The expression on her face was one of mystery and suggestion. I knew what I would suggest but Maggie was standing right behind her, watching my every move. Her look had changed from strange, to one of malice. My attention was suddenly on the job!

"TT, this is Mrs. Van Harding. She would like to consult with you. Mrs. Van Harding, this is my husband, TT Spalding. Please, let me get you a better chair." 

Maggie walked around the desk and pulled the good chair from beside the desk and moved it to the front. Mrs. Van Harding sat down without a glance at Maggie. Maggie had been dismissed without even realizing it. She made it look easy and sexy as hell, just sitting down. When she crossed her mile-long legs, even Maggie swallowed hard.

Maggie slowly backed out of the room, not even looking at me. She was watching her until the door closed. Well, even Maggie was smitten. Funny thing: I wasn't the least bit interested. Something about her shut me down. Oh, I ogled her tits, and her legs and considered what she would look like naked, but only out of manly duty. In reality, I didn't like her that much.

"What can I do for you Mrs. Van Harding? What do you need?" I watched her closely. Something was not right here.

"What I need Mr. Spalding, I should be getting from my husband. What I want from you is to find out why my husband seems to prefer getting his somewhere else." Not a blink or sign of annoyance. Just a quiet comment, like "isn't it nice today?"

"What can you tell me about Mr. Van Harding? Do you have any suspicions as to what he may be doing?" Just to get an idea. Never know what the wife would know.

She gave me story and verse. Seems she knew quite a lot about our Mr. Van Harding. Enough to make my job easier. I discussed the terms with her, understood that I was to contact her directly from here on, and supply her with videos and pictures. Seems the money in this family was hers, not his. Speaking of money, she gave me a five-thousand dollar retainer, far more than I would usually charge but she wanted a lot in return. And I could supply it.

I walked Mrs. Van Harding out of the office and let Maggie get her signature on the contract. Along with the information I needed. I stood in the doorway and watched as she left, Maggie closing and locking the door behind her. I turned to go back in the office and sure enough, Maggie followed me in. She shut the door, moved over to sit on my lap and put her arms around my neck. She looked deep in my eyes and then gave me a kiss hard enough to make my toes curl.

"What was that for? I expected the third degree after she left."

"I saw the way you looked at her and it made me proud. You didn't fall for that sexpot even one little bit. You knew she was a cold bitch didn't you?" She kissed me again and wiggled her butt on my lap, driving me a little crazy.

"Saw it and didn't like it much. Of course, I wouldn't mind seeing her naked but not much more. No, she was a cold one alright. No wonder her hubby's looking elsewhere."

Maggie and I talked a little about the case and decided to call in both Bruno and Polly. We had two hot cases, a couple of others not so hot and it was time to make them go away. Maggie wanted the vacation as much as I did, although she didn't have the same worries I did. She didn't know about the phone call and she wouldn't find out either. She made the calls, sitting on my lap and scheduled them in together for tomorrow. After she hung up, her lap dance got a little more suggestive and before you knew it, we were in the supply room, taking inventory. Damn! I loved taking inventory with Maggie. She was really stacked, I mean stocked, no stacked is right. And I had to touch every bit of that inventory with my own hands. And Maggie knew how to take inventory too. Very well. God, I loved that woman. I really, really did!

Bruno and Polly came in the next morning and we went over the cases with them. They were feeling frisky and decided to work together on all four cases. That was a surprise since they usually didn't like working together, but Bruno suggested it and Polly jumped on the idea. Maggie and I agreed, although we had no idea what they were up to. But, I gave them all of the available info, told them what the clients wanted and sent them on their way. 

It was about three weeks later when I got a call from Polly. She said that they had some stuff Maggie and I should see. I scheduled the afternoon for them and Maggie closed the office right after they arrived. They were giggling and carrying on like two teenagers and I was surprised. The two had never expressed any interest in each other and I couldn't blame them. They were as different as night and day. Polly was serious, a people person and very self reliant. Bruno was a loner, avoiding people of all types and insecure as all hell. Together they were probably equal to one normal person. Maybe. 

"OK, what have you got for us? We should handle the two older cases first. Anything there that I would like? Any kinky stuff?" I liked kink, it always led to a double deal with the other spouse. Usually got a twofer from that. I had a lot of deals that went that way. Polly took the first one and began with a summary.

""No kinks this time boss. The first case was straight forward. The guy who hired us wanted to find out if his brother was stealing from him. He let us in as temps and we got the goods. The brother is stealing him blind. Up to two grand a week. Easy money. I got tape and pictures and Bruno has bank account numbers and locations." 

Polly handed me a folder with a couple of CDs and a bunch of pictures. There was also a typewritten list of account numbers with bank locations. I handed it to Maggie after quickly scanning the info. They had the brother cold! 

Bruno took up the narration for the second case. "We had a little more trouble with the second case. That one was a mother wanting you to track her daughter to see if she was meeting a boy after school and in the evening. Mom said the boy was real trouble and she was scared for the daughter. Mom said the daughter was going to dance class and aerobics class, but that she could be meeting him afterwards. Seems Mom was blind as all hell. The daughter was cutting classes, meeting the kid at his apartment and screwing her ass off. Doing some real kinky shit too. Kid is bad shit. Into drugs and petty theft. Polly got pictures of daughter coming and going and some good ones of inside. Not something Mom should really see but they prove what she'd been doing. I got contacts that can shut him down if we want. Just let me know what Mom says."

Again with the folder and it, like the other, was complete. These two did stellar work. Always have and always will. I hoped we could keep the charade going a while. Like me paying them good money, and them pretending they needed it. Like I didn't know. Hah! Who did they think I was? 

Maggie took the folder, looked at a couple of the pictures and shook her head. "That's a real shame. Looks like she is underage as well. How old is she?" Maggie looked to Bruno. 

"Girl's sixteen. Old enough to make the decision according to the man. Not child rape or anything. Kid is twenty-four or five. Not real sure. Old enough to know better. That's why I'd like to shut him down. Put him out of business. Other shit is different. People who buy know better, right boss? They use, and abuse, their problem. Girl is different. She doesn't know any better. Mom is clueless but has a good heart."

Bruno knew. I knew. Maggie knew. Polly knew. We'd all been through it and had come out the other end strong. The girl was too young to get the chance if she stayed on this path. I thought about it, looked at Maggie who nodded and I gave Bruno the word.

"Shut him down and put him out of business. No questions asked. Mom doesn't need to know anything more than he won't be a problem for her little girl any longer." Bruno nodded, smiled at Polly and that was that. The kid was toast, he just didn't know it yet.

"OK. Now that those are out of the way, we can close the book on past cases. Good work to both of you. Bonuses all round. Now, we have to talk about the other two. I know that these are the ones we all hate. No good news there for someone. But, that's the way it goes in the real world." I grimaced, thinking of the young kid who's world was about to be turned into garbage. 

I only hoped it wasn't all bad. "Who's got the young kid with the wife?"

Polly held up a file folder with a sad smile. "I got it boss. Me and Bruno took turns on this one and there isn't any good news at all. Just a sad, sad case of greed and stupidity." She opened the folder and laid some photos on the desk. Maggie and I leaned over, took one look at them and shivered. Maggie's hand slipped into mine and I squeezed it to let her know I understood. The pictures were too clear for comfort but then, Polly was a pro.

"Her name is Betty and she does work at the bank. Her hours are from nine to two. She leaves the bank alone, twice a week. She drives her little car over to an apartment complex on the east side and goes up to an apartment on the fifth floor. She has a key. Let's herself in and usually stays about two to three hours. Does this twice a week, Tuesday and Friday. The other days she just runs some errands or goes directly home. No change in the two weeks we watched her.

Polly took out some CDs and laid them on the desk. She pulled a couple of sheets of paper out and started to read from them. "After the first week, Bruno got a couple of cameras with audio planted so we have full coverage for the last week. Got them doing it all, sex, drugs, and some really sick stuff. I'll let you watch that alone.

"Here's the part that made me ill. She's telling the guy, a real loser, that she loves her husband but he is too tame for her. She wants to get pregnant but he doesn't seem to have what it takes to plant the seed. She's telling this guy to make her pregnant and give her a baby. Hubby doesn't have to know and it wouldn't make any difference if he did. He loves her too much to kick her out. Guy suggests she maybe would like a three way with him and her husband. They laugh about it and then she bends over, raises her ass in the air and yells for him to do her that way until he can find a third."

Polly stuffed everything back in the folder and shoved it over. She looked a little pale but she's a trooper. I took the folder, while Maggie put her arms around Polly and held her while the tremors passed. Polly is a pro, but she's still a woman with a good heart. Tough to do this shit sometimes. This is one. Polly, being the pro she is, would have scoped out the hubby and knows what a soft-hearted guy he is. Really makes it hard.

"OK, I'll take it from here. She's a loser and he has to be told in a way that makes sure he knows it isn't his fault. Maggie and I'll do that. Good work on a real downer. We'll finish it in a way that will make you proud." I looked over at Bruno and he had an actual tear in his eye. Son of a bitch! Knew I saw something good in him. Good heart and good soul. I felt a little like a proud papa, with two good kids. 

"OK then, Bruno. You take the other one?" 

I wasn't nearly as worried about this one. I had a strong feeling that we had two self-destructive personalities here and no one was going to get hurt. Just pissed, more like it. Lots of blame to go round. But, money was an issue and that always made it fun. More fun for Maggie and me then for the clients. But, hey, you know what they say if you can't take a joke.

"First of all boss, this lady was a real fox. Sorry Maggie, but she was one sexy lady. Hot as hell and ready to party. Too bad she was also a first class bitch. And not only to her husband. He deserved it, but she also gave her help hell at every opportunity. A lot of bitter people there. It made our job way too easy."




TT Spalding, The Van Harding Case



Bruno took out a small box and sat it on the desk. Polly reached in for a couple of folders and began to remove pictures. She sorted through them and laid a couple out on the desk. At first glance, they seemed sort of tame until you looked closer. In one that Maggie held, Mrs. Van Harding was standing in what looked like her bedroom. She had on a leather skirt and top, and held a whip. The whip was nasty looking, the fibers tipped with what appeared to be blood. The next picture showed her still with the whip, but now it was directed at a young boy, sitting on a chair, his arms and legs tied. There were signs of cuts on his skin, across the shoulders and chest. His mouth was open in what looked to be a scream. 

Maggie threw the picture down with an oath and I felt a little sick myself. I looked at Polly and Bruno and asked the question with my eyes. My mouth was too dry to speak. Bruno looked at Polly and then started. "There's a lot more of that in here. From what we know, it was the wife's thing, not the husband. At least, she only did this when he was gone, traveling or visiting somewhere. She had one of her drivers bring the kids in and take them away. She was paying them off with a lot of cash. This went on at least three times over three weeks. She beat them, not bad enough to leave many marks and then she had sex with them. Forced sex, not fun stuff.

He nodded at Polly. She opened another folder and pulled out more pictures. Polly was damn good and she took clear pictures that were date stamped and easy to use as evidence in divorce cases. She just tossed them down in no particular order. "These are of the husband. He's gay. Has at least two lovers we were able to find. Visits them often, one guy every day. They stay in and spend the evening together. Seem real calm to me. No kink, no multiples, no drugs. Just straight gay sex and some cuddling."

"OK, we have all we need. What I want you guys to do now, is to forget all about this shit and go have some fun. Take some time off and go somewhere. Just play. Maggie and I are going to do just that once we close these out. We're going to find some sun and some sand and just chill. You should do the same."

Bruno got a little red and looked down at his feet. Polly laughed and poked him in the shoulder. "Actually, Bruno and I are going to take a little trip to Hawaii. I have an assignment there and I invited him along. He's agreed." She grinned evilly and went on. "I thought we could save a little on expenses and share a room." Now she laughed and grabbed him around the waist. "He's a little shy about it. Tell him it's OK, Mom and Dad." 

Maggie clapped her hands together and hugged Polly first and then Bruno. "I think it's great. You two are our favorite people in the whole world. Go! Have some fun with no worries. Just be together for a while and have fun!" 

I smiled and seconded the thought. "I agree. Be with each other just for fun. Dad approves!"

Maggie and I watched as the two of them walked out, holding hands and laughing. Now it was over for them but just beginning for us. Well, that was the job. Sometimes you get the bear, sometimes the bear gets you. We took the first two cases and decided to close them first. Not much left on either and a good chunk of change coming in. 

I took the first case, summarized the findings, documented the proof, with dates and accounts, all frozen by Bruno by the way, and indicated the amount embezzled at a total of $300,000 over a period of two years. I made a note that our fee was fifteen percent of funds recovered as agreed and billed the final total of $42,500 remaining to be paid on receipt of the final report. I took that out to Maggie for finishing. She leafed through it quickly and smiled at the amount. She gave me a blinding Maggie smile and blew me a kiss. One down with a promise of a significant reward later that night. 

The second one was a little harder to write. In that case, money was not the goal. It was the mother who was going to be hurt. Since her daughter was old enough to be considered legal, there was little to be done except what we did. Bruno would take him down and put him out of business permanently, but that was little comfort to the mother. She was going to have to deal with her daughter somehow. I wrote the report myself as gently as I could, but bad news was bad regardless of how it was phrased. I called the mother myself, told her I was having the final report sent by messenger over to her and told her to call me if she had any questions. She pressed me for answers on the phone but I declined, citing confidentiality. She hung up depressed, knowing bad news was coming. Best I could do. I wasn't even going to bug her about the additional fifteen-hundred she owed me. Knowing her, she'd probably pay it. Decent woman. 

Finally, the bitch. Now, this report was one I would enjoy. I worked on it the rest of that day and some that evening. I finished it up the following day and talked to Maggie about it once it was done. She read it, made a few suggestions and then typed it up formal like. We included pictures, DVDs, and a couple of CDs of sound only. It made an impressive report. We made three copies, one went into our personal file. Now, for how to handle it.

Maggie called the husband and invited him to visit us as soon as possible. He was available and we met with him for an hour that afternoon. One edited copy went with him and he left a very happy man. He knew what to do and promised to wait for our call.

Next, I notified a friend of mine and asked him to stop by the office to see me. I went over the report with him and gave him a complete copy. I showed him the signed consent forms from the wife and he made sure they were legit. They gave me permission to use monitoring equipment in their home. He was satisfied with what I gave him and agreed to meet with me at 1:00 p.m. the next day here at my office. He knew what to do then.

Finally, Maggie called Mrs. Van Harding and told her we had the information she asked for. Maggie told her she would be satisfied by the husband's behavior. She scheduled her in to meet with us at 12:45 the next day. She was to bring a certified check for the balance of the $15,000 agreed to. That was another $10,000. We would collect the check before giving her the report. Of course! 

That night, Maggie and I made love. No rowdy sex, no experimentation, just a reaffirmation of our love. What we had seen the past few days was too disturbing for anything else. We reminded ourselves of what love was really about. It was wonderful. Afterwards, I just held her tight and we fell asleep that way. We woke once during the night, made love again and woke refreshed and ready for the day. God, I truly loved that woman! I really did!

Mrs. Van Harding came in right on time. She was dressed as wonderfully as before, her ample figure exuding sex. This time, Maggie was less impressed and showed her in very coolly and very professionally. She smiled at me as she closed the door. It was my turn.

"Good afternoon Mrs. Van Harding. I believe I have what you wanted. These pictures are just a sample of what we have. There are DVDs in addition to audio files. All show Mr. Van Harding in the arms of his lover, a Gerald Coffman. The other man is Walter Waldman. They are also lovers, as you can see. This is what you wanted, I presume?" 

She looked at the pictures, smiled and wet her lips as she flipped through them. The smile was feral and not very pleasant. I watched her eyes narrow with pleasure. Now her true character was plain to see. This was a very nasty woman, regardless of the package. Her hands shook as she held the most revealing of the group.

"I see Paul is a pervert. Not what I expected. I thought he would have a young woman or maybe even several. Paul never gave me any indication that he was gay. He was a very accomplished lover when he was there. Not often, but very good. Yes! This is very good. I assume the DVDs and the audio show will confirm the same things? Perfect. Here is the check you were promised. I have the report so I believe our business is concluded."

She rose and started toward the door. As she did, I buzzed Maggie, the signal we arranged. When Mrs. Van Harding opened the door, Detective Woody Mars was waiting. 

"Mrs. Victoria Van Harding? You are under arrest for soliciting sex with minors. You have the right to an attorney. If you refuse, anything . . . " 

You know the rest of it. The case made all the papers for several days. It was a real scandal. Rich woman in sex with minors! Case broken by NYPD Detective W. Mars. Acting on a tip, surveillance proved case beyond doubt! Mrs. Van Harding was arrested and the report I gave Woody the day before was used to file charges of sex with minors, abuse of minors, and several other charges. Since she had given us permission to use surveillance to trap her husband, all videos and tapes were admissible. She was convicted and sentenced to twenty years. 

The real bonus arrived by messenger the next day. It was a check from Mr. Van Harding for $25,000. He was now the master of the estate, since Mrs. Van Harding was indisposed. She had signed over control to him in exchange for keeping the remainder of the report suppressed. Since she had pleaded guilty to avoid a trial, none of the information we had was released. Only the cops and Mr. Van Harding had access to it. Besides us, of course.

Maggie and I worked on business for the next couple of weeks, waiting for our two 'children' to come home. Bruno had called once from Maui to let me know things were going great and that he had heard from one of his contacts that the person I was concerned about was back in Ohio and keeping his head down. Seems he heard that there was word out to let me know when he came back to NY. Also, one of his bank accounts had suddenly been closed. Cost him a cool $3,500. Just a warning but he got the word. 

I had made the arrangements for a trip for two to St. Croix, an island in the Med. I got us a suite in one of the hotels there with a waterfront view, a hot tub, room service and deluxe accommodations all round. Cost me a pretty penny but for my Maggie, never even questioned it. We leave this coming Friday and we will be gone two whole weeks. Maggie has done some shopping and the bathing suits she bought! Wow! It even made her blush and that took some doing. Me? I just wanted to be with her. I didn't care about much else. And I didn't worry over much. Maggie was mine, body and soul just as I was hers. Didn't care who saw her or looked at her, because she never paid them any mind. She was mine, and she made sure I knew it. 

Oh, yes. One other thing. Maggie read my novel while we were on vacation. She actually liked it! She said she would help me send it off to some publisher she knew. Who knows, you may read it soon. She's thinking up a name for it now. 

Damn, I love that woman! I truly do!