Sam Spade and the Case of The Missing Cheer Leader

[ariosto]

The dark green Lasalle pulls to the curb half way up Geary street. It looks as out of place as a bottle of champagne in a bathtub full of beer. The dame that swings out of it, once the sour faced chauffer opens the rear door, wrinkles up her powdered nose and drops the veil of a stylish feathered hat as if to remove herself from the gray, shabby reality of the neighborhood.
She holds a card in her white gloved hand and compares it to the address she sees on the door next to the dark shuttered front of
Abelman's Florist Shop.
Bouquets have no place on Geary street in the chilly first days of February, 1940.

SAM SPADE
PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR
FEES NEGOTIABLE
SUITE 22
1109 GEARY STREET
SAN FRANCISCO CALIFORNIA

The number on the door did say 1109 even though a bullet hole had almost obliterated the O.
With a sigh, the tall, shapely woman straightened her hat and turned the knob.



"Effie Perine, why do you always bring that up as soon as we get finished doin it?"
Sam was still sprawled across the swaybacked cracked leather
couch with his pants down and a frown on his face.
His secretary and girl friday was standing with her back to him, long gorgeous gams hanging down below her opened white silk blouse, banging on the radiator with a bright red shoe.

"Because Sam, you are in a weakened mental state right now and hopefully I have managed to melt a few drops of your glacial stupidity."
Finally the radiator clanged, hissed and gave off a puff of heat. A small puff.

"You could make twice as much money if you moved downtown! We could get out of this flop house for crien'out loud Sam!...I know you have money in that drawer"

Effie strode over to his desk, a well worn relic from before the fire.
Sam loved to watch those long legs move.

"Hold it doll!, That's my reserves. Don't touch."

"Oh come on Honey, that's track money and you know it. Your'e terrible with the ponies Sam. PLEASE let's use it for a new office?"

He looked around, the desk.. a chair in pretty good shape...a potted palm (needs water).. a window...a 1938 calendar with Jean Harlowe on it..this wonderful couch...

"Naw, maybe some paint is all. Come on over here and give the worlds greatest private dick a little sugar.
I might melt more than you think..."

 

[SexyChele]

Effie

I take a look around the office. The tiny reception area where I sometimes sat when Sam was seeing clients privately wasn't much better than this. And no, a coat of paint would not improve either room.

I shivered against the damp cold that permeated the room. Radiator only worked when it wasn't supposed to anyway. Striding back to the couch, I pick up the open pack of cigarettes and matches, and stretch out next to Sam. At least the heat from our bodies should keep us somewhat warm until it was time to go back to work.

"You know, Sam, I just don't understand the resistance to moving from here. You certainly aren't attached to this place emotionally - what gives?"

"Hey, doll, it brings me luck. I've solved my best cases right in this room."

"And rarely got paid for any of them. All the charity cases, Sam, why not take clients that pay?"

"Because it's the underdog who needs lookin' out for. Besides, when do the wealthy really find themselves in that much of a jam?"

In the distance we heard a car door slam shut, and the main door below us open and close. Footsteps could be plainly heard on the stairwell - women's shoes by the sound of it.

There are no other tenants in the building who would be expecting such company.

"Well, Sam, looks like you may have a new client who has a crisis and no money."

 

[Maid of Marvels]

As Elaine Woodsley enters the outer office...

she hesitates, wondering if she hasn't made a mistake in coming here. Dingy wasn't the word to describe this little fire trap of an office. Shivering slightly, she wondered if they even had heat. She was just about to leave when a tall, leggy blonde came out of the inner office.

The two women took a mental inventory of each other, the younger of the two breaking the silence first. Sorry for keeping you waiting. Is there something we can help you with? Elaine couldn't help wondering what someone who looked like that was doing in a place like this but refrained from asking. Fact is, she didn't really care one way or the other.

No... I think perhaps I've made a mistake, she said turning toward the door.

Effie! Did I just hear someone come in? A voice from the inner office called out. The door opened revealing a dishevelled looking man who was leisurely fastening the top button of his shirt. Halted once again, Elaine Woodsley took him in at a glance. Now he fit into these surroundings.

The secretary, Effie he called her, turned back toward the woman who had her hand on the doorknob. Mr. Spade, this is... Elaine hesitated for a moment longer before extending her hand. Mrs. Cotton Woodsley. Is there somewhere we can talk? Privately?

Effie raised an eyebrow at that last comment, but Sam, ever the trooper, waved Mrs. Cotton Woodsley into his office with a flourish. He paused only for a second, winking at Effie as he closed the door behind them.

Elaine Woodsley looked around the shabby office wondering where she could sit without ruining her Chanel suit. Reading her mind and mocking her at the same time, Sam took a crumpled handkerchief from his pocket and wiped off a section of the sofa. Have a seat. It came out more like a command than an offer of hospitality and Elaine didn't miss it. But she had to start somewhere, didn't she? Trying not to wince, she sank into the sofa as he sat at his desk. Waiting.

First of all, she began. I must know if you will be discrete. I won't have my business bruited all over town. We have a reputation to uphold, however shaky it may be at this juncture in time.

Why, sure... he drawled. I'm the very soul of discretion. But it'll cost you.

Elaine couldn't help chuckling at his audacity. Oh, Mr. Spade. Money is NO object. Discretion is my main concern. That and finding my daughter, Tiffany.

Sam sat a little straighter in his chair as he wondered just how much money was no object... But, he thought he'd listen a little bit more before he made some outrageous bid. He watched the Woodsley woman carefully as she opened her clutch and pulled out a letter.

My daughter Tiffany is missing. Kidnapped. I know where she is and who took her there. She would have never run off with this hoodlum on her own. His name is Rocky Denardo and he has taken her to Los Angeles. Here is the letter I received in the post this morning. She leaned forward to hand him the envelope then sat back waiting while he read the note.

 

[ariosto]

In Sam's Office

"Well aren't you going to read it?"
He was having a hard time taking his eyes off Elaine Woodsley, she looked good enough to eat and Sam was a hungry man.

"Yeah, yeah, sure. In good time."
His eyes drifted down to the envelope with the LA postmark and the picture of Tiffany in her little
cheer leader skirt. He picked up the photo and whistled.
"Wow!"

"Mister Spade my daughter is not an object for your titillation. Perhaps I have made a mistake. The picture please."

She was holding out her gloved hand and on impulse
Sam took it and shook it vigorously.

"Missus Woodsley I guarantee your daughter will be
sitting in your parlor within a week."

In her cubicle, Effie groaned and shook her head.

Elaine was startled not only by the handshake but by the man's extraordinary self confidence and he wasn't bad looking in a common sort of way.

"Why Mister Spade, how can you be so sure?"

"Call it a hunch Lady. But I always do my best work when a beautiful Doll is involved. Especially if the Doll has an even more beautiful mother."

Elaine blushed and hesitated slightly as she removed her hand from his...Handsome even, in rough and tumble way.

"Your fee Mister Spade?"

"Call me Sam and you don't pay me nothin' till your little baby is back home again."

In her cubicle Effie tore a steno pad into little pieces, balled them up and hurled them at the door.

"Now why don't we go sit on the couch Mrs Woodsley and you can tell me all about this Rocky guy and your missing daughter."
Once reseated, and she wasn't sure she'd ever rise out of that soft yielding leather again, she watched Spade pour liquor into two shot glasses and bring them over.

"Have a little nip, it'll warm you up. I try to keep it cool in here. My Secretary has this resperatory thing you know. If it gets to hot, her nose starts to run...coughing, really awful."

A mumble came from the cubicle.

"Is she all right Mister...Sam I mean. Maybe we should..."

"Naw, Ef's fine, She's a real trooper."

He sat down next to his client and downed his shot.
Elaine who had never tasted anything quite so awful, nursed hers.

"Now let's start with your daughter Taffy..."
"Tiffany Mister Spade!"


"Ahhh, yes Tiffany. Tell me some personal things about her. Like, well...her measurements, preferences in underwear, any kinky sex things she liked..."

 

[SexyChele]

Effie

Sitting at my desk I shook my head at the smooth operator that Sam was. Yeah, he was good as a private dick, but he also liked a good pair of legs as well. Picking up a steno pad and a pencil, I got up from my desk and leaned against the door jamb.

"Excuse me, Sam, but don't you think we had better take some notes about now? And don't you think asking Mrs. Woodsley about the last time she saw her daughter would be a more appropriate line of questioning? That is, unless you're planning on buying the girl some underwear for her birthday?"

I walk over to a chair by the desk, cross my legs, and prepare to take notes - notes I know Sam will already commit to memory.

 

[ariosto]

With Effie present the interview took on a more efficiant if less 'pithy' character and it was decided that Sam would drive to the Woodsley Estate that evening at eight O'clock to interview the family and the servants.

He watched the big LaSalle rolling off down Geary
and sighed. It would be a tough one to crack but he could do it.

Effie had walked up behind him and had slipped on a stylish jacket and hat.
"Let's go eat Sam, I'm starved."

"How do you afford to look so good on what I pay you Doll?"

"I'm independently wealthy...I thought you knew."

Sam grinned...
"In that case the burger's on you tonight!"

They headed out of the City across the new Golden Gate Bridge and discussed what they'd been told by Elaine Woodsley.

Tiffany had started back to the college early
to attend the Cheer Leaders Orientation but had never arrived.
Three days later a letter came from Los Angelos in Tiffany's hand writing saying she was OK and not to worry. That she was with Rocky and they were in love and...
"blah, blah, blah"

Sam tossed the letter over the seat behind him and Eff made a mental notre to retreive it for fingerprints and other clues it might offer.

"You don't believe the letter's for real do you Sam?"

She crossed her legs and looked at the passing cars. Rain was beginning to fall.

"Nah. Not for a minute. A Doll from the Ritz ain't runnin off to LA with a Bowery Bum. No way.
He might be good for a quick lay but you ain't gonna have babies with him."

Effie may have been the brains in the car, but Sam's intuition was unbeleivable...
"So what do you think?"

"I think we should pull off the road and heat up the back seat for thirty minutes."

She knocked his hand off her knee.
"Later Lover Boy...My mind's going a mile a minute right now."

Sam put his attention back to the road.
"Damn Baby, your mind is always going a mile a minute."


The Woodsley Estate was a dozen miles out of town and when Sam's 35 Ford turned into the gate he was almost halfway there.
"Jesus Look at this place!"

The House looked like a cruise ship, lit up from one end to the other.
They parked the car in front of towering white columns, got out and ran quickly to the door.
The rain was heavy now and neither had an umbrella.

Effie hit the doorbell and about a mile off they heard the distant chimes inside the cavernous mansion.

 

[MtnAngelWV]

Carmen

Diiiinnngggg! Dooong!

The sound interrupts my sinful thoughts. My heels click against the tiled entryway as I think to myself that something is definitely askew in this house. I have been unable to put my finger on it exactly but I hope that I may overhear a conversation soon.

Opening the large mahogany door I see a strikingly handsome couple perched on the cut stone patio. The woman looks a bit aggitated but the man appears interested.

"Good Afternoon. How may help you?" I ask as I spy the gentleman giving me the once over. The lithe young woman elbowing the man in the ribs does not go unnoticed.

"We are here to see Mrs. Woodsley," the lady answers.

"Are you expected?""

"Yes, we do have an appointment," she was unable to hide the obvious irritation at my question.

"Please, do come in then. I shall direct you to the parlor." I turn on my heel and lead them to the large room. I have always felt that the furnishings looked cold and uncomfortable. I turn around to say something further to the couple just as the gentleman places his hand lightly on my backside. I throw him an evil grin and know instantly this man is gritty but definitely worth the time.

"I will announce your arrival to Mrs. Woodsley." I walk out to leave the couple alone and climb the stairs to Mrs. Woodsley's bedroom. I knock softly on the sitting room door and inform her of the guests.

I creep down the back stairs and position myself next to the far door of the parlor. I have long since discovered that this area provides a sound ecoustical vantage point.

 

[SexyChele]

Effie

The door opens, revealing quite a beautiful maid. Of course, the wealthy always have the good looking help. I look at Sam, and see the typical reaction that he has to any gorgeous female - complete temporary incoherency.

The house was filled with dark, rich furnishings. Obviously, the Woodsley came from old, San Fransisco money - and a lot of it. I began figuring out the cost of the case, when I noticed Sam's attention had been diverted.

As we were left alone in the parlor, I walked over to the fireplace and studied the various objects d'art that were placed there.

"You know, Sam, it doesn't always help our case if you can't keep your hands off the help. Unless, of course, you thought the maid was hiding Tiffany under her skirt?"

"Ah, doll, I was just escortin' the lady, you understand."

"Mmm, I understand you all too well, Sam."

"And that is what I love about you, doll."

I walk over to the piano in the corner, and notice what seems like hundreds of photographs spread over the grand.

"Sam, come here. Take a look at this picture of Tiffany. I wonder if that's the boyfriend in question? And, if it is, look at the background - you know where that was taken?"

Sam walked over to the piano and studied the picture with me.

"Hey! I know that place! That's -"

But before he could finish, the doors pushed open....

 

[Maid of Marvels]

Elaine Woodsley

Elaine Woodsley pushed open the door to the parlor, Good evening, Mr... Sam. Miss Perine, she said, crossing the room. As she approached the Louis XV table where Lalique and Baccarat decanters filled with various golden-hued liquids nestled on a Tiffany tray, she turned to ask if either of them would like a drink. Scotch. Rocks. Sam said in his gravelly drawl as Effie declined. Someone had to keep their heads about them.

The ice clinked almost musically in the glasses as Elaine poured two, handing Sam his as she settled on the sofa, crossing her long shapely legs. Elaine sipped at her drink, indicating that Effie and Sam should make themselves comfortable.

Tell me, Elaine, Sam began boldly. Who was in the house when you discovered that Tiffany was missing?

She hesitated for a moment, as though considering possible implications of the question before answering. My stepson Brandon, who will be down shortly. You've already met Carmen. Our butler, Henley and his wife were and are still on holiday. So you see, aside from the three of us, there was no one else at home when Tiffany disappeared. Why do you ask? I gave you proof that it was that hoodlum, Rocco... Rocky. Whatever it is he calls himself.

Yes, ma'am. You gave me the letter. Sam's eyes went back to the photograph on the piano and he nodded in its direction. Exactly when was that taken?

Perhaps a month or so ago. Why? Don't you want to be on your way to Los Angeles to bring her home? I've already told you that money is no object. Do you need a retainer? Elaine stood and walked over to a desk, taking a check book from a small drawer.

First things first, sist... Elaine. Sam interjected. I'd like to see your daughter's bedroom. Maybe you could have Carmen show me up?

Whatever for? Oh, nevermind. I'll send for her now, Elaine said in a slightly exasperated tone of voice as she tugged on a tapestry pull, causing a bell to ring somewhere in another section of the house.

 

[ariosto]

Sam

Sam pulled Effie aside and whispered to her.
"I'll go up with the room and check out the maid...oops sorry Babe, you know what I mean."
Effie smirked.
"yeah...sure do."

"Anyway, you see what you can get out of theat Brandon guy, he looks pretty shifty to me. If that don't pan out, get all you can on Denardo, that'll be your angle. I'll pump Mrs Woodsley and the maid.
Ok...bad choice of words..."

Just then Carmen appeared in her little flounced skirt, the perfect maid...
"Sure I'll take him up. Come on Honey, the rooms a mess ...just the way she liked it."

On their way up they met the scion of the household on his way down. Brandom Woodsley had the look of a failed movie star and the smell of a pimp.
He took a handful of Carmens right buttock in passing and said,
"Hiya gumshoe, you going to Little sister's room."

"Yeah Mister Einstein, your right on."
Sam already took to him like a bad cold.

He leaned over closer,
"All her toys are in the chest under the bed, aren't they Carmen?"
And with a wink he was gone...

 

[SexyChele]

Effie

I watch Sam leave with the maid and know I'll have Mrs. Woodsley alone for a while. Crossing the carpet, I pick up the photo with Tiffany and Rocky and bring it over to where Mrs. Woodsley is sitting. Taking a seat on the sofa across from her, I study the picture in depth.

"Excuse me, Miss Perine, is there something about that picture that seems extraordinary to you?" Mrs. Woodsley asks.

"Yes, as a matter of fact there is. And something troubling as well. You say this picture was taken a month or more ago?"

"Why, yes, I believe so."

"Hmm...interesting."

"How so?"

"Tell me, Mrs. Woodsley, about the last time you saw your daughter. Was she happy? Depressed? Had she mentioned taking a trip or leaving town? Anything you can remember?"

As she starts to speak I stare at the picture. Definitely taken here in San Fransisco - in Chinatown, in fact. And during Chinese New Year, this year, which was just a week and a half ago. Why the confusion in time? Just a slip? Or something more?

I place the picture on the table in front of me, and give Mrs. Woodsley my "look", as Sam calls it.

 

[Stirling]

Brandon

Brandon woke, his head pounding from last night's all night bash at Sammy's Jazz Joint. He woke, still in his suit and liquor on his breath; he rubbed his unshaved face, sat up and yawned.

What was all that noise downstairs? The doorbell was ringing, and tromp, tromp, he heard the maid go down the stairs, then back up, telling his foxy stepmother the detective was here, then tromp tromp they both went back down again.

Figuring something was up, Brandon made his way out into the hal to the bannister. The maid, Carmen, was leading a strange looking Joe up the stairs, and with that short skirt, Brandon knew the gumshoe was getting an eyeful of sweet bottom.

Standing at the top of the stairs, he winked at Carmen, then gave her a playful pat on the bottom as she passed. Her bottom was soft and accessible with her silk panties, and he gave it a firm but playful pinch, thinking of the last time she had drawn his bath. Was that yesterday? Or the day before? His booze-addled brain struggled.

The detective shot him a dark and baleful look, saying nothing.

"Hey gumshoe, checking out little sister's room, huh?" Brandon said, a tired, jaded smile on his lips.

"That's right, Einstein," the man said, all business, following the maid down the hall.

Brandon shrugged and laughed, and went into the parlor. His stepmother Elaine was there, dressed in a light white blouse and woolen blouse that hugged her admirable figure so well -- but she wasn't alone. Standing there, looking at a picture and with a notebook in her hand, was a shapely dame with curves in all the right places.

Brandon gave a low whistle, and whipped a cigarette out of his case. "Hiya dollface. I'm Brandon Woodsley. Kicked out of Harvard once, Yale twice." He flicked his silver lighter and lit a cigarette, letting a cloud of smoke burst out.

A wolfish leer on his face, he made his way over to the liquor cabinet and poured three fingers whiskey into a waiting tumbler, then shrugged, and made it four. "Late night."

He turned, his eyes wandering freely up and down Effie's succulent figure, and stroked his chin. "Hear you're looking for my little sister?"

 

[Honey_B]

Chinatown

If a foreigner were to walk down the narrow, dingy streets of Chinatown, the outsider would only be able to see what the inhabitants wished to reveal. False fronts and shadow, flashes of color from silk or blood, an unknown world set in the heart of San Francisco. Chinatown. A world unto itself where Americans were considered foreign.

It couldn't have a more nondescript facade, looking like the offices of an extremely boring profession. Inside, the land of the Orient flowered.

It was Madam Yu's House of Celestial Pleasures and few knew it existed except those Sooki Yu deemed worthy. Madam Yu ran the house with an iron grip in a silk glove. She filled it with all of the exotic pleasures the Orient had to offer - opium, gambling, and sex. For the House of Celestial Pleasures was a brothel of the most notorious kind, probably because Madam Yu not only allowed most anything to occur in her establishment, she encouraged it, and occasionally participated...

Sooki Yu was petite, small-boned and delicate. Her tiny form was curled in a burgundy wing-backed chair in her private office. Before her a roaring fire blazed. She was always cold in this damp city, so unlike her native Shanghai.

With a graceful hand, she reached for the phone and dialed a set of numbers.

Without preliminary, Sooki purred into the receiver, "I need you. My body burns for release," and hung up.

She stood and examined her reflection in the mirror. The nightgown fell to her bare feet. Its black color contrasted with the perfect ivory of her skin. She loved the way the silk clung to her body like a wicked embrace.

Sooki smiled, baring her teeth with delight. Her brother would love it.

 

[SexyChele]

Effie

My attention is drawn to the doors as they open and a strikingly handsome, yet dishevelled, man walks in. Trying to be slick, he lights a cigarette and pours himself a drink. Introduces himself as Brandon.

I look at him - must be in his mid 20s - and glance back at Mrs. Woodsley. Unless she married Mr. Woodsley VERY young, this was not her blood son.

In response to his question about his missing sister, I cross my legs and lean forward.

"Yes, Mr. Woodsley, I, uh, that is, we - my boss and I - were hired by your mother to find her. Is there anything you can tell me about your sister? When was the last time you sawa her? What was her mental and emotional state?"

I look up at him as he approaches the sofa. He is grinning like a wolf, and suddenly I feel my guard go up.

 

[MtnAngelWV]

Carmen

Leading the gumshoe up the staircase, we meet Brandon. He is, as usual, obviously suffering a hangover from last night's events. Suddenly, but not unexpectedly, he grabs and pinches my firm buttocks.

My petite hand swipes at his form as he ducks the impact. "Shame on you, Chere! Behave yourself in front of our guest." But my chastises are lost on him as he knows I am not as serious as I should be.

I am not unaware of the detective's admiring glances. I throw him a quick knowing gaze and a wink. "Come now, let us continue in our mission. Perhaps we may uncover a few mysteries." Both of us know the true meaning of my sentence.

 

[ariosto]

As Sam follows Carmens swaying derriere into Tiff's room he can't help thinking how much fun it would be to shake down this saucy little little maid.

The room is all in delicate tones of pink pastels and shows the hands of refinement and taste. He hates it.
Carmen watches him, arms crossed over her ample bosom, as he putters about.

"That's her panty drawer."

"Oh yeah." Sam holds up a lacey bra, "Big ones huh?"

"Not as big as mine." She grins.

"Ahhh..no. No comparison." He licks his lips and turns to the bed.

"She never fucked no one there Mister Gumshoe."

Sam spun around. "How d'you know that?"

"I know lotsa things,"

"Oh yeah." He grabbed her.
Carmen's arms dropped and she shoved her astounding assets against him.

"Yeah."
Crushing her backwards, his arms around her waist, his burgeoning cock pressing into her little black skirt, Sam kissed her on her rich full lips and
sliping his tongue into her mouth tried to touch her tonsils with it.

"Yeah."
He pulled back. They both were panting like the 12;05 from Sacremento.

"Look under the bed, that's where she keeps her little 'toys'"

The toys consisted of five dildos of varying sizes
one of which even put Sam to shame. A pair of ben wa beads, a riding crop, seven packs of prophylactics and a dog eared copy of Ovid's Art of Love.

"Did her Mother know about all this?" Sam said approaching the Maid with the intimidating dong clutched in his hand.

"Maybe she did, maybe she didn't." Carmen looked boldly at him and the dildo.

"Don't give me that Sister. Spill it!"
He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, her lips were full open...inviting.

Above Carmen's head in full view was a small photograph of Tiffany and someone else taken in Chinatown.

 

[Honey_B]

Madame Yu

The Asian beauty's eyes narrowed and a growl emanated from deep within her throat. Few things made her angrier than being kept waiting. Though she paced like a caged tigress, her mind moved rapid fire through the numerous tasks facing her later this evening. She stifled a yawn. Sooki, like the cat she so resembled, was nocturnal. She had to get some rest if she was going to be fresh this evening. Chen be damned!

The carved ebony bed welcomed Sooki. She stretched out on the ivory silk sheets. Cursing her brother once more, she fell asleep.

 

[ariosto]

A last, long hot Sam Spade kiss left Carmen swooning on the bed as he made his way downstairs with the picture tucked safely in his pocket.

He immediately eyes Brandon's predatory approach to Effie and laughs inside himself.
Effie will have him eating out of her hand in no time.

Seating himself next to Elaine Woodsley and her long slim legs, Sam throws an arm over her shoulder and says,

"I've got two questions Mrs Woodsley. Were you aware your daughter was a nymphomaniac and who does she know in Chinatown.?"

She turned her aristocratic face to his and smiled.
"Yes I knew she was a nymphomaniac Mister Spade.
I am a VanTwiller and all Van Twillers are. It's in our blood you see.
As for Chinatown...Well we NEVER go there. Those horrid ducks in the windows and all..."

 

[Huntress]

Carmen

OOC:

At Ariosto's request, I will humbly attempt to do justice to the role of Carmen, as previously played by MtnAngelWV.

IC:

Hardly able to breathe after the passionate kiss and miffed at Sam's abrupt departure, Carmen realizes that she has forgotten to tell him something. Something very important!

Rushing downstairs as fast as the tight little black skirt would allow, Carmen arrives in the doorway of the parlour with her ample bosom heaving...

"Senor Spade," she hissed. "I have somting berry important to tell you -- in private!"

She avoided Mrs. Woodsley's disapproving gaze and frantically gestured at the detective to join her across the hall.

 

[Stirling]

Brandon

The sultry secretary crossed her legs and leaned forward, inevitably drawing my eye to the swell of her breasts. "Yes, Mr. Woodsley," she was saying. "Is there anything you can tell me about your sister? When was the last time you saw her? What was her mental and emotional state?"

I sunk down onto the couch next to her, shaking the ice cubes in my glass and took a deep drink. If only this dame knew what dear old "sis" what up to, or what we'd been doing the last time I saw her. "That's a lot of questions, doll, and I don't even know your name."

"Effie," she said, guardedly.

"Effie, huh?" I took another sip of whiskey. "We had a maid named Effie once. She used to like it --"

Just then that insufferable gumshoe burst in again, plopping himself down next to my step-mother, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. I scowled as he started calling sis a nymphomaniac. Sis wasn't really likely that. And even worse, mum agreed! Fortunately Carmen walked in at that moment, and urgently called the detective out of the room.

I fixed Effie with a wry look, and stood up. "You want to know about sis? Her mental state? C'mon, I'll show you." I led her out the hall and up the back stairs. I looked back over my shoulder to make sure she was following -- she seemed to hesitate a bit, guarded, but then with a determination, came after me.

"This is her room," I said, opening the door on a big mess -- Tiffany's panties and stockings were thrown everywhere, and someone had already pulled out and rummaged through her box of things, her toys. "You asked about her state of mind," I said, waving at the things. "There it is." Effie said nothing but took careful notes, though a slight color rose in her cheeks.

"But this is what I wanted to show you," I said, fumbling through a dresser drawer and finding a bunch of matchbooks, spreading them out on the dresser. "Check out these nightclubs," I said. "Especially this one, the Black Cat. It's where she met Rocky Denardo, and blame me if you will, but I introduced them." I shook my head sorrowfully. "If they did run off to LA, you ought to talk to his associates there. They'll know where he is, who he's been hanging out with.

"Find that bum," I said angrily, "And you'll find Tiffany."

 

[ariosto]

"Yeah, the ducks give me the creeps too."

Sam looked at Mrs Woodsley. She looked at Sam.
She batted her eyelashes. Sam ran his hand up her skirt to mid thigh.

"MISTER SPADE!"

"Uhhh..sorry I slipped."

"Where's Effie?"

"She's gone upstairs and is probably being seduced by my son as we speak."
She had rearranged her skirt and Sam did not fail to notice that another two inches of shapely gams were in view.

Just then he spied Carmen gesturing to him from the doorway.

"Excuse me mrs Woodsley, I'll be right back."
She reached out and touched his leg as he got up.
"Oh yes Mister Spade, please don't be long."

'Dames!
Sam thought as he turned the corner into the hall to be suddenly confronted with Carmen's
naked breasts.
DAMES!
he thought again...

"You see deese Meester Spade!?"

"Oh God yes."

"Look. Look closer!"
He bent forward, licking his lips and locking his fingers behind his back.

"Tell Carmen what you see?"

"One Damn fine set of tits?"

"NO, NO look again...por favor!
Now tell me what you see!"

 

[SexyChele]

Effie

My attitude was one of guardedness when walking with Brandon. Good looking though he was, there was an air of cruelty about him as well as arrogance.

As we walked into Tiffany's bedroom, I glanced around making a mental of the various things I saw. The drawer with Tiffany's "playthings" did in fact cause me to blush - some of the items I was very familar with, others I could only guess at their purpose.

When Brandon showed me the matchbox, I picked it up. Black with white writing...."Black Cat". A seedy place just outside the Tenderloin district of San Fransisco. I looked up at Brandon, but was only greeted with a smile. I snatched up the other matchboxes and swept them into my purse.

"So we need to contact Rocky, huh? Yes, maybe you're right. So I now we just have to find him."

I give the room a last look through, but don't see anything amiss.

"I suppose I should get back to Sam, see what he has discovered."

 

[Stirling]

Brandon

Having found her clues, the brassy dame was fixing to leave. She stood in the doorway, turning to go, and just in that moment the play of light and shadows caught her in profile. Caught me by surprise, too.

She was a looker, I knew that already, but in the shadows of the unlit room, so like a noir set, I realized she was more than just a beaut, she was the kind of gal who ought to be in pictures. And she weren't one of those Jane Mansfield, bleached bimbos, oh no, she had the classical grace of a Greta Garbo or, heck, a Lauren Bacall. I told myself to get this private dick's business card, I may have just found my next star.

But that was Plan B. This was Plan A:

"Hang on a sec, doll," I said, cupping another cigarette in my hand and flicking my lighter. "Now maybe that's everything and maybe that ain't."

She turned, her eyes bright and searching, guarded and curious. I could almost see the gears clicking in her mind, thinking about the case, suspecting me, reading my every desire with a world-wise glance. With the patience of a detective, she waited for me to continue, arching a painted eyebrow.

All right rich boy, I told myself, time to sell it. "As a matter of fact, I'm headed down to LA tomorrow night, got kind of a situation down there. One of my directors is tearing his hair out, 'cause our heroine's come down with the Spanish flu, and this shit's costing me almost a grand a day.

"So I've got an open ticket on the Pan Am. Let's save my dear old stepmum some expense money and have you accompany me. I gotta hit a few Tinseltown parties first and a premiere at the Mann, and I gotta find another starlet for my harem pic, but after that I can get a car and show you the kinda high society placces sis used to hang out when she was in LA."

"Kinda work a dame can handle, I figure, while Spade pounds the pavement and twists arms up here."

I took a deep puff off the cigarette, watched her take it all in. If she'd done her homework, she'd known it was true -- in broad strokes at least. Brandon Van Twiller wasn't just a dissolute rich heir, he was a film producer too, a job that required no talent, lots of money, and a complete lack of morality.

"Whaddya say, kid?"

 

[SexyChele]

Effie

"Yes, Mr. Woodsley, I've heard of your name as a movie producer. You see, I've done a little homework on my own. Also, I don't think Rocky is anywhere near Los Angeles. Oh, he may have been there a few weeks ago, but not now. I think he's here, around San Francisco. But, I, ah, appreciate the invitation to Los Angeles."

I give Brandon a sharp look, before I turn to leave. As I brush by him, I feel his hand close around my upper arm.

"Now, you don't have to leave so quickly, do you? There may be more physical evidence that I could pass on to you."

I look intently into his eyes as I respond, "Physical evidence on who? Tiffany? Rocky?"

"No, doll, me. And I would love to share it with you now."

I arch an eyebrow as I give him a slight smile.

 

[Stirling]

Brandon

I push sis' door shut, hearing the lock click into place. A familiar sound. I give the dame a grin, not releasing my grip i the slightest.

"How about taking my deposition?" I mutter lowlly. "I think I have a strong body of evidence that may bear on this case." My breathing tightens, there in the dark room, and I pull her closer, feel the warmness of her breath against my face, the closeness of her body against mine.

I know the dangers, playing with the dick's main squeeze, but it's not just her beauty which draws me, moth to flame, but her danger and mystery.