Tales of a Private Dic

[_precious_1__]

ooc: This is an open thread, all are welcome and encouraged to participate! I thought it would be fun to write a thread in film noir style, so I only ask that you keep the feel of the thread. More than anything else, have fun, don’t be afraid to be over the top and happy writing! (FYI – feel free to use narrator)

opening scene:
Circa 1952: Black and white. The scene opens, a dark and gloomy night on a dimly lit street in Brooklyn. The street is nearly deserted and the briskly paced click of high heels on concrete are the only sound audible over the constant low buzz of the streetlights. You hear an dog bark in the distance.

The scene pans to the high heels, up the shapely calves moving them, to a dark blue trench coat worn by our mysterious lady. She wears a large brimmed hat the obscures most of her face, except for full ruby-stained lips that sporadically puff at a cigarette poised in her gloved fingers. Sleek blonde hair hangs just to her shoulder, peeking out under her hat. She stops at the stoop of a tall brownstone building, looking, first this way, then that before stubbing out her cigarette and making her way up the stairs.

She ascends up the endless staircase and after eight floors stands in front of her destination. The mottled glass door was emblazed in gold letters outlined in black:

Rockwell McQuade, Private Detective

She raises a gloved fist to the door, hesitates for a moment, then raps on the glass door. She looks around the hallway nervously.

(narrator)
Lauren Collingsworth was no dame, she’s a lady, and ladies like her just aren’t seen in this neighborhood, particularly at this time of night. But she needed some help, the kind of help you can only get in this kind of neighborhood at this time of night.

 

[ariosto]

OOC...Ok I'm over extended but I am a sucker for this stuff! see my old sam Spade thread...Precious you got your "Dick" if you want him.


IC...
Usually the sound of a dame's high heels clicking up the steps would have been enough to rouse him from the deepest depths of dreamland but at this particular moment he was in the naked arms and in the naked body of The Dragon Lady as they did the 'double backed boogie' through the smokey halls of a Shanghai opium den. On his cluttered desk was the comic book and the bottle of cheap bourbon that had put him there.

The insistant knocks on the frosted glass window of the door finally brought him up and out.He stared groggily at the shadow of his caller silhoueted by the 40 watt lightbulb on the landing.
By instinct he reached into his desk to pull out his roscoe only to find it full of gum wrappers and paper clips. Fuck! he'd hocked it this morning to pay the rent.

The knocking came again louder this time.
Wearily Rocky got up from his swivel chair and walked to the door...
Whoever it was was wearing a fedora down low. It was too damn late for a client...like he had any!...This didn't look good at all.

Well, what the hell...
Running his fingers through his black thick hair, pulling himself up to his six foot height, he reached out and opened the door...

 

[_precious_1__]

Lauren

ooc:
Yea! Thanks Ari! I think you’ll do nicely as “Rock”

ic:
The first thing that hit Lauren as the door opened was the smell of bourbon as it bellowed out of the room in an invisible cloud. She looked at the disheveled man standing before her in the hallway, he looked as though he’d been wearing the same rumpled suit since the last time he’d shaved, which by the looks of him had been several days. She looked into his bloodshot eyes, as he roughly shoved a waft of his tousled black hair from his forehead.

‘Could this be the right guy?’ She thought as she assessed him.

“Are you Rockwell McQuade?” She said in a hushed tone.

His answer was little more than a shrug. She took a deep breath.

”I’m supposed to tell you that Pauly sent me.” She searched his bloodshot eyes for a glimmer of recognition.

 

[Chronicler]

Giorgo Masaros

I walked down the dark alleyway, looking around cautiously. Steam was billowing up from the sewer vents, creating an eerie effect in the small alley. Taking out my revolver, a Colt Single Action Army, I entered the darkness...
Bullets ricocheted off the wall the left of my head, causing me to duck and roll behind piece of wall projecting out of the main building. Quickly side-stepping from my cover, I shot twice into the darkness where the shots had come from and was rewarded with a groan from my victim. Walking over to the injured man I put my revolver back in my side-piece.
"Who sent you?," I said, crouching down. This wasn't a man, it was kid, dressed up as a gangster. His long black hair was slicked back, and he had broken out in a sweat. "Oh, shit"
I had shot him in the in a lung, and the bullet had lodged, a result of the Colt's unusual muzzle velocity. "Kid! Kid, wake up!," I said slapping him across the face. His eyes seemed to clear for an instant before he said: "Don Pablo will find you"
I tried to revive him as his eyes rolled back, but he was already dead...

Hi, my name's Giorgo Masaros. I'm a homocide detective, working undercover with the Mafia around here. Around a week ago, I got involved with a thug called Sonny Depasio. He was trouble, and eventually got himself killed in a drive-by five hours after I met him. Now I've got the cops on my trail for a murder I didn't commit, and the Mafia after me for revenge; and it all seems to circle around a guy called Don Pablo...
Somehow, I get the feeling this is going to be a long night...

 

[ariosto]

It's a dame, he thinks first...It's a good lookin' dame, he thinks second, I don't have my shoes on.

"Are you Rockwell McQuade?”

"Unhh yeah, that's right. Come on in."
She hesitated a second but then followed him intio the evil smelling office casting her eyes from shadowed corner to corner.

”I’m supposed to tell you that Pauly sent me.”
He stopped stock still in the middle of the room.

"Do you sleep here Mister McQuade."
She almost ran into him.

He turned and grabbed her by the shoulders.
"You know Paulie! That BUM!"

Some of the color drained from her gorgeous face.

He relented,
"Yeah I sleep here... when I gotta lot to do."

It didn't look like he'd done anything in years...

 

[Chronicler]

Giorgo Masaros

I needed someone I could trust, someone who could help me. Rocky was perfect; he had no allegiances to the cops or the Mafia. I had to get to his place quickly...

 

[_precious_1__]

Lauren

ooc: Welcome Chronicler! You’re character is going to work into what I had in mind quite nicely!

ic:

"Do you sleep here Mister McQuade?"

I asked as I followed him into the office, glad to be out of the hallway, even if the room did smell like a distillery. He had stopped abruptly at the mention of Pauly’s name, so abruptly that I ran into the back of him. He turned and grabbed me roughly by the shoulders and shook me, hard. I felt my throat go dry. What had I done?

“ You know Paulie! That BUM!" Then he loosened his grip.

"Yeah I sleep here... when I gotta lot to do." He said as if hadn’t just shaken the living daylights out of me.

”Well I need your help, and Pauly said that you could be….. discreet.” I reached into my handbag and flashed a wad of bills at him. She was no dummy, she knew how to get a man like this to listen to her.

 

[_precious_1__]

Lauren

”My name is Lauren Collingsworth,” I began.

He interrupted ”As in Danford Collingsworth?”

”He’s my Father. Which is why I need you to be discreet.” I shoved the money back into my handbag.

I took a seat opposite his desk, took off gloves and my hat and shook out my blonde coif. I brought a silver cigarette case out of my handbag and selected a cigarette. He at least had enough couth to light it for me. I didn’t have much time to waste, so I laid it all out for him.

“There’s a man I’ve been seeing, quite seriously. His name is Johnny Fostello. He’s up and coming in the political arena, and has asked my father to fund his run for the Senate.” I took a long drag from my cigarette and blew it out slowly, “He’s also asked me to marry him.”

”So you’re afraid he’s after your old man’s money?” Rock said, assessing the situation.

I stubbed out my half-smoked cigarette, ”What I’m afraid of, Mr. McQuade, is that he has ties to the mob. I need you to find out for me. We’ve had successful ‘family mergers’ based on money before, it would suit my father just fine to marry me off to a Senator. It would not do to have a Mafioso apart of the Collingsworth family.” I stood and threw the wad of bills on his desk.

“I’ll contact you in three days, Mr. McQuade.”

Narrator:

She turned and left the detective dumbfounded. For a lady she was calculating. But for this much dough-rae-me Rock would have to deal with it.

 

[Ragingbull]

OOC: Hey, I love this shit. Got room for Sgt. O'Leary? If not, just throw me out. Not sure how he will fit in anyway. He's friendly to Rock. Helps out down at HQ. Not on the take but likes to cut corners. An eye for the women. Frequents clubs and casinos looking for leads. Thirty four and divorced twice, he's 5'9", a little pudgy, but strong, reddish hair, blue eyes. First name is Sean. I'll introduce him and just see if there's a story to be followed.

Sean

IC: I was down at the Kitty Cat Club to talk with some of the girls about the Murphy case. Turns out he was stealing the big boss blind before he skipped. Used to come here a lot. Then the body of his driver showed up floating in the river. Miss Kitty saw me come in and smiled bringing me a dry martini. Well, heck, it was after 3, why not.

 

[ariosto]

After giving him a view of a set of gams that would make grable green, she laid it on him.

Christ!

She left him in a cloud of perfume and with a bad case of stiff dick.
Dansford Collingsworth's little girl. Why the hell had she come to him, a gravy stain in the yellow pages maybe.

He walked over to the window, split the blinds and saw her walk across the grimy sidewalk and slide behind the seat of a brand new Packard convertable and spin out headed Uptown. She looked like a million bucks, she was a milion bucks.

He leafed through the bills on his desk. Ten 'c' notes and they all smelled like her.

So she's bedroom cozy with some greaseball politician named Fostello who may or may not have connections with the mob.

Rocky knew flat out that he was out of his league. Catchin' husbands with their pants down was more his style.
Messin' with the Gambino's and Genovese's or the Columbo's or the fuckin MamaMia's was definately not.

Shit... He fanned the bills in front of his face and found that the sound they made and the memory of Lauren Collingsworth's
long legs gave him dutch courage, so did the three fingers of bourbon he poured..
Besides now he could get his Rosco back.

McQuade picked up the phone and dialed Masaros number. If anybody had a handle on who might or might not be in bed with the Eyetalians it was him.

 

[Chronicler]

Giorgo Masaros

I had decided to visit Rocky in the morning. He would definitely be there, he hadn't got a job in weeks. But first I would go home and get some sleep. As I opened the door the phone started ringing. I rushed inside, dropping my coat and leaving the door open. I tripped over something in the darkness; my place was a mess as usual.
"Hello? Giorgo Masaros speaking."

 

[_precious_1__]

Lauren

ooc: Ragingbull, slip in where you can. Also, we’re in need of a little female writing to even things out!

ic:
I slipped behind the wheel of the new Packard convertible that Father had given me upon my graduation from Vassar. I wasted no time in putting distance between myself and that neighborhood. Couldn’t you just see the look on Daddy and Johnny’s faces if I was caught in a neighborhood like this? I laughed out loud as I rolled up 4th avenue.

Unconsciously rubbing my shoulder, I thought about the detective, Rockwell McQuade. Pauly had called him Rock. He might have been handsome if he’d been cleaned up. But still, there was something about him that made her think things she shouldn't be thinking. Not about a guy like that.

Three days will make it Thursday, I’ll have to watch my step around Johnny until then. I cut the engine halfway up the long circular drive to the mansion, coasting to a stop. I got out as quietly as possible, and make my way around the house to slip in the back door and up the back staircase to my bedroom. I undress in the dark and slip into bed.

All right Mr. McQuade, you have three days to earn your money.

 

[mya]

Miss Kitty

OOC: Hi Precious…Miss Kitty seems like a good character to take on. I’m not exactly sure where I’m taking her yet…I’ve left her open enough to decide that as the thread unfolds. It also seems like it might help even up the male/female ratio a bit as you requested. Hope you don’t mind that I join…and I hope Bull’s OK with it too as I stole the character he mentioned and built on it!

Miss Kitty--sole proprietor of The Kitty Cat Club since her husband had died 2 years ago, aged 42, voluptuously built with very well rounded curves, standing 5’4" in 3" heels, the tight black sleeveless bodice of her dress emphasized her ample bosom, her skirt ended just above my knees meeting fish net stockings. Her blonde curls were carefully pulled back in a chignon, and the mole on her upper right lip tended to mesmerize her male clients. She wore blood red lipstick and matching polish on her nails, and used dark eyeliner to dramatically emphasize her dark brown eyes.

~~~~~
IC:
Immediately I noticed the Irish cop slip in the door of my club. I fixed him his usual dry martini, and sashayed over to him. He was here for one of two things: he needed a dame to keep him warm for a night or he wanted information. One I could give him, the other was a different story entirely. There was only one way to find out.

"Hey big fella," I cooed at him as I offered him is favorite dry martini, "What brings you to this part of town?" My hand trailed teasingly over his shoulders as I ushered him to a seat at the bar, "It’s been a while since we’ve seen you ‘round." My eyes smoldered, I flirted and poured on the charm, as I attempted to find out just why he was here without him knowing that was my true purpose. Although, my hand on his shoulders told me this was a strong man, capable of more than satisfying any woman, me included.

 

[ariosto]

"Giorgio, we gotta talk. I need some dope on a guy named..." he stopped.
"Maybe we better meet somewhere. We're talkin' heavy rollers here."

Yeah tell me where and when Rocky?

Mcquade thought a minute.

"Kitty Club in an hour...sound OK?"

I'll be there.

Rocky hung up the phone and held the money up again. It was as pretty as Rita Heyworth's big bright eyes.
He thought about the Collingsworth dame and grinned. Yeah maybe this wouldn't be too bad after all.

Picking up his hat he locked the office and went down to the cold windy street and hailed a cab.
His 39 Desoto was being kept 'safe' for him by his bookie.
He was watching the lights of Broadway spin by when he remembered he still didn't have his gun.
Something the two hoods in the car following them would have been delighted to know.

 

[Ragingbull]

Sgt O'Leary

OOC: Mya, I couldn’t imagine a better Miss Kitty. Sarge is getting all excited! Glad to have you if precious is okay with it. What the hell’s a chignon?? Must be girl talk. Sounds like something I ought to fondle or squeeze.

IC: Miss kitty was a knockout. Pretty face, nice tits, curves that’d make a mountain road look like a straightaway. I had a secret crush on her. Well, maybe not so secret. Getting that skirt off her was no easy feat. I wondered what she did for pleasure now that her husband was gone. Not that he was ringing her bells. Or at least he didn’t look like the type. She must have a sugardaddy on the side. Either that or a big tool chest in her bedroom. Maybe she only liked girls. Shouldn’t be allowed with a body like that. “Kitty, my sweet goddess of beauty. You look absolutely ravishing. How about marrying me. I’ll make an honest woman of you. And the honeymoon, sweetheart... the smile would never leave your face.” She batted her big eyes up at me. My heart melted. I’d probably end up with one of her girls as usual, but I could always dream. “So what do you think about Murphy skipping town? And his driver going for a swim? He used to hang out here didn’t he?”

 

[_precious_1__]

ooc:

..

 

[_precious_1__]

ooc:

Hell guys, quit asking! I am proud to have Mya join the thread, and as I said, I am leaving it completely open. EVERYONE is welcome! I'm interested to see where this little filly takes us!

Sidebar to Bull - A chignon is a hairstyle, a rather fancy type of bun. I don't think that's the type of buns you want to be handling.

*fade to black*

 

[mya]

Kitty

OOC—Sorry there Bull…I’m laughing to myself. As soon as I typed chignon I meant to go back and check it out to make sure it meant what I thought it did. But I was tired and forgot. It is a real word and I’m proud to say I did use it correctly. A chignon is basically a hair do when I woman puts her hair up in a bun or as a mass of hair atop her head.

Precious! Thank you. I didn't see your post at first cause I was writing this one...had to edit to slip this in. Thanks for the warm welcome.


IC
O’Leary flirted back, "Kitty, my sweet goddess of beauty. You look absolutely ravishing. How about marrying me. I’ll make an honest woman of you. And the honeymoon, sweetheart... the smile would never leave your face."

"You better be careful there O’Leary," I replied easily still teasing him back, "some day some gal is gonna take you up on that offer and then you’d be dancing a merry jig to get out of that proposal….hmmmmm?" It was a question that required no response.

Then O’Leary hit to the heart of his business with me, the real reason he was here. Oh sure, he’d probably leave with one of my girls too, but this was not just a social call. "So what do you think about Murphy skipping town? And his driver going for a swim? He used to hang out here didn’t he?"

I pretended to stop to think, "Hmmmmm Murphy, Murphy…hmmmm can’t quite say as I know which one of my customers was Murphy. Most of my customers go by John, and when pressed for a last name it’s usually Smith. Now that you mention it, the homicide guys were here fishing a body out of the river the other day. Not that I can tell you who. My girls and I were busy and none of us went out to stick our noses in where they don’t belong." I hoped that would satisfy him. I liked O’Leary, but I couldn’t have him finding out too much about "the business" that got done down here. It wouldn’t be safe…for him or for me.

Hoping to side track his questions, I cast my roving eye over the girls dancing up on the cat walk—they were called "Kitty’s Cats". I was happy to sell their wares to the highest bidder, but I protected them too. Not just anyone got to "have" a Kitty Cat, and God help the man who hurt any one of them, at least permanently. Light bondage and spanking were allowed for the Cats who didn’t mind those types of bedroom games. It usually meant a good tip for them too. The men who rented my merchandise knew the score, they’d all heard the stories of the men who had foolishly hurt my "girls" only to mysteriously turn up dead in alleys and rivers a few days later. "So O’Leary, what can I get you? See anything on the menu you like?" I carefully couched my question so as not to refer to the girls although the regulars knew they too were on the menu. You just never knew when the fuzz was going to set you up in a sting operation. I didn’t didn’t think O’Leary would be part of that game, but a girl had to be careful.

 

[Ragingbull]

Sgt. O'Leary

OOC: mya, I'm sure you have real pretty chignons... and nice buns too. You too precious.

IC: Typical dame. She wasn't talking. Maybe one of her girls would have loose lips. She might even tell me something about Murphy too. But Miss Kitty wasn't going to brush me off that easily. Besides, I liked her company. I looked down at her lucious tits pushed up for my viewing pleasure. She asked my pleasure. "Maybe a couple of breasts. And I hear the steamed clams are succulent all year round." She smirked at my attempt at humor, a teasing smirk. I looked up at the girls dancing and waved at a few of my favorites. Good thing about being a cop were the freebies. I kept the force off her back, or at least gave fair warning. I couldn't afford her girls on my salary. Kitty understood, but it was their choice. Word had spread that I carried a big weapon. I also carried a gun. "This is serious Kitty. No fooling this time. The force is going to come down hard. Chief wants to run for office. I can protect your club, but you have to tell me what you know. This private dick I know can help. We break the case, give it to the chief you're home free. Kitty, there must be someplace private we can talk."

 

[_precious_1__]

Lauren

Narrator:
Scene opens in a dark room, you can just make out the shape of a woman laying on a bed from the moonlight cascading through the window. The silence is broken by a large crash. The woman bolts upright.

ic:

I had just fallen asleep when a loud noise startled me awake. I threw the covers back and went to my bedroom door, easing it open just enough to see out into the hallway. The coast was clear so I crept out of my room, down the hallway, leaning up against the wall that opened to the grand staircase. I looked down into the foyer and saw two men. One was standing with his back to me, the other was laying in front of him in the remnants of a priceless Ming vase.

”I don’t know what you’re talking about, please, just go.” It was then that I recognized my father’s voice. It was shaking, a cross between anger and… fear? I had never hear the sound of fear in my father’s voice. My first instinct was to run to him, to help him from the floor and protect him, but I hesitated, and that’s when I saw it. A long black gun in the stranger’s hand. The man’s gloved hand held it up while he screwed something onto the muzzle with the other. A flash and a zip and a blackish red hole appeared in my father’s chest. His body went limp and crumpled on the floor. I stood there paralyzed, frozen from a deep dark fear that gripped my heart the way a kid grips the bar on a merry-go-round.

The man exited quickly and silently. I heard a car engine rev and race down the driveway. Only then did I get my legs back. I flew down the stairs to my where my father lay crumpled on the floor. Tears streamed down my face as I called to him, but deep inside I knew he was already gone…

 

[ariosto]

They walked into the smokey night club together, Masaros never understood why rocky was partial to the place. Well maybe it was because of Kitty herself. There she was...

He grabbed Rockie's arm.
"Hold it. That's O'Leary with her."
McQuaide turned to his companion.
"So what?"

"I'm in deep cover pal. He don't need to see me especially with you."

"Crap...you're right."
They drifted back out into the street. Rocky thumbed a match and lit a fag.
"OK here's the lowdown, see this society dame is thick with a greaseball politician named Johnny Fostello, ring a bell?"
Masaros shook his head and held out his hand for a drag.
"Yeah, well Ok...seems this guy may have links to the mob. That's your turf. I gotta find out if this is so or not."
He inhaled deep and blew a smoke ring into the lamp light.

Masaros thought for a minute.
"I know a Gambino runner named Fostello but his first name isn't Johnny...I can check on it though. These guinea families Christ they're all in it."

Rocky walked back in to the club. Masaros would come in a little later.

"Hiya O'Leary, how they hangin'?"
He slid between the big cop and Kitty who pressed her chest against his back and blew in his ear.
"The usual Rocky?"
"Yeah babe and set one up for the constable here."

 

[_precious_1__]

Lauren

I sat beside my Father’s lifeless body, an ever-widening pool of blood in stark contract to the white tiles of the foyer. Things seemed to be going in slow motion. The house staff began to come into the room and, seeing what had happened, set into motion a flurry of activities. Someone pulled my from my Father’s side, and deposited me on a sofa. I don’t remember how long I had been there, but I remember the grandfather clock chiming three am.

My tears had been replaced by shock, and I sat numb on the sofa as police now began to filter into the house.

“Miss Collingsworth? Miss Collingsworth?!?” The sound of my name finally rousted me from my daze. I looked up at a plain clothed officer, his badge displayed from his coat pocket.

”Miss Collingsworth? I gonna need to ask you a few questions…”

 

[Ragingbull]

Sgt. O'Leary

"Hey Rock. I was just talkin' about ya. This Murphy thing ain't going down to well at HQ. We don't help her Kitty's gonna get hurt." Timing. Shit. Well, maybe tonight wouldn't be my lucky night. But the night was young. "Tell Kitty she can trust me Rock. She don't talk and the Chief will shut her down. I gotta give him somethin." Kitty returned with his drink. She sure seemed partial to him. Why do dicks have all the luck? Hell, why not. God gave some guys looks. Me, I got the equipment. "Kitty, that Murphy fella, I saw him here all the time." I looked around to make sure I was safe. Never knew when the chief had his spies out. "And his driver. Didn't he have a thing for one of the girls? By the way, Rock. you hear anything on the streets?"

 

[ariosto]

Rocky didn't know beans about what had happened to Murphy but the big cop seemed preoccupied with it. That and Kitty's breasts.
The threat to close the club was real enough though and for her sake McQuade agreed to put his nose into it.
"Thank's Rock. We don't want nothin' to happen to this joint do we?"

He agreed with him and walked over to the dark table where Masaros was sitting with his back to O'Leary.

I made a call.
Masaros had a bottle of Schlitz in front of him. Rocky took a swig,
Yeah....and?

Nobody's talkin' either he's clean or he's so deep with the mob they're afraid too.

McQuade was silent for a minute.
How much?

Masaros thought.
Buddy Costello will know if anyone does. But he's a damned expensive snitch.

Rocky left the table and headed over to the payphone. The Collingsworth Dame was probaly in bed with some frech polo star or somethin' but hell you want to move the wagon, you gotta grease the wheel.

 

[ariosto]

"Hi doll...It's McQuade."
Here voice sounded like she'd been pulled out of a deep sleep with a dream lover. She had.
It sounded like she was annoyed. She was.

"Yeah I know what time it is....
You want to find out about your boy friend or not?"
Of course she did that was what she was paying him for.

"OK I got a grease a snitch but...."
"Grease a snitch!...I'm gonna need some dough babe. I gotta buy some information, see?"
She saw.

"I need it tonight. Tonight...probably a couple a hundred...
You tell me where to meet you and I'll be there...."