The Scarlet Lady

Cathay

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I knew she was trouble the minute I laid eyes on her.

She stood there at my door, a tiny docile little thing. Pegged
her immediatley; Bookworm, librarian...someone's maiden Aunt.
Probably has 52 cats. She stood waiting by my scratched flimsy
door... fidgety and nervous.
I smiled at her. (hmm might have been more of a grimace)
I seemed to have frightened the poor girl. Not her fault I
was in such a grumpy mood. I was late. Again!! My own
damn business and I've yet to open the door on time.

See? Right there on the grimy etched glass - S.O.S Private
Investigations Hours: 9 am - 6 pm. I didn't need to look at
my watch, to know it was damn near 10:00. Sighing, I sat
and my briefcase on the floor and fished around for my keys.
"Good morning, Lemme just get this door opened..." I found
the right key and as I put my hand on the door ...I realized
I wasn't going to need it. "Dammit!", I screeched at the top
of my considerable lungs, as I realized my door had been jimmied.
Little Miss Mouse, musta jumped 2 feet in the air. Looking
over my shoulder, I put my finger to my mouth, "Ssssh, they
might still be in there." Her eyes couldn't have gotten
any bigger and she melted back so close to the wall she could
have passed for wallpaper, her little hand going to her throat,
(ain't she dainty?)

Reaching into my trench coat (mind you-- minus the liner, I was
friggin' freezing!!) I pulled out my short barrel 7.65 Bulldog (thought she'd faint at the sight of that!) and slowly opened the door and peered inside. Motioning to Miss Mouse to stay where
she was, I slowly walked into my outer office, quietly searching
for a possbile unwanted guest. "Clear" I whispered to myself
and moved towards the inner office. I could see the wash room
was clear (the door was open) and when I realized my would
be burglar wasn't there, I reached for the light chain and turned
on my little 40 watt. "It's clear, Miss. Come on in", I hollered
over my shoulder. Seems it wasn't necessary. She stood hugging
the doorjamb. (Doesn't anyone know how to follow orders
anymore??)
She stood there her mouth gaping open at the mess before her.
I opened my blinds to further illuminate the dingy room. Didn't
really help much. The weak April light of a Chicago sky strained
to be actually called DayLight, (trust me, we use the term lightly
around here.) The sky was still overcast, had been since last
October. "Oh my," she whispered. Straightening her spine,
she asked me, "Ummm, shouldn't you call the police?"
I looked at her puzzled and she limply waved at the mess in
front of her. There were files everywhere, newspapers piled,
the cushions on the sofa were strewn on the floor. "Why?"
I asked her. "Look what they've done to your office?" she
seemed somewhat outraged at the massive mess in front of her.
"This?" oh....."it always looks like this." Though I did have
the grace to blush a bit. Her mouth dropped to the floor
as I headed for my file cabinet, dammit that lock had been
jimmied. Now, I'm gonna have to find out which files were
missing. Wishing I had a bottle of tequila to fortify me, instead
I headed for the small hot plate to start coffee.
 
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Victor "Broderick" Cimino

The moment I laid my two eyes on that dame I knew she would be more trouble that I thought, bah, more that even Mr Salieri thought. Sitting in my flivver and smoking a gasper I watched her go inside the building. By her gait alone I could judge the kind of shamus she was: dogged and unrelenting. Just the person to go sniffing around Mr Salieri's businesses. It was normal in this line of work to step on people's toes and not apologise, people like Mr Salieri don't have to apologise, they pay the people and employ them... sometimes even without their knowing. However when some of those hurt cats started jawing it to the Johns, or worse a shamus, they need to be kissed in the map for starters and when that don't solve the problem apply them lead poisoning or tailor concrete shoes.

Mr Salieri knew that one of those poor cats spilled the beans to this Spayde dame and wanted to know who did and how much. Well, me and Little Jimmy couldn't just go in and ask all polite and nice, that would tip her off and we'd have our hands full. So we just entered the dump, made our way into the office and helped ourselves to browsing the files. The file cabinet was full so we had to spend some time checking for recent files but we found it. It seemed that the taxi driver we bumped and bribed to keep silent held a grudge. Tommy Sandee was the name... good to know. We'll have to pay Mr Sandee a friendly visit and tell him a few things to consider.

I recalled what Mr Salieri said: "Victor, my friend," he said, patting my cheek. "We don't off people just for that," he scolded. "We need to talk to them, see, if they got problems, means we got problems. And mutually we can help each other solve those problems. If their problems disappear, our do so as well. So when you find out who's trying to fuck with us you first come to me and I tell what to do with the bird. Maybe he got money problems? We have money to burn, we can help those poor souls down on their luck... in exchange for favours at some later time of course."

I couldn't go against Mr Salieri's directives but I wouldn't just play with the bloke in white gloves. I'd just go and either give him Mr Salieri's best, squirting lead and giving his the one way ticket for the big sleep or smashed his beezer in so he remembers not to fuck with wrong people. Especially if those people are generous and willing to right the wrongs they had done. Oh well.

"Fire the hog, Jimmy," I said throwing the gasper on the pavement and opening Sandee's file. "We gotta report to Mr Salieri and then we'll probably have us an errand to run."

I smiled the nasty smile... this day was beginning to be quite promising.
 
Samantha Spayde

I knew she was trouble the minute I laid eyes on her. I hate
being right.......................


Turning to my guest, I decided to play nice rather than ignore
her while I searched my file cabinet, "Would you like some coffee?" as I crossed to the washroom sink to fill the pot.
She had picked up the divan cushions and sat gingerly on the
end (if she'd only known what I'd been doing on that divan
last night...my little secret. she'da rather stood, I'm sure.)

"Um...do you have any tea?", she asked like I was a friggin'
hostess. I looked back at her, "no. Do you want the coffee
or not?" Taken back at my "no" she nodded mutely. "2 Cuppa
Joe's coming up." Placing the pot on the hotplate I searched
under the sink and found 2 cups. Ugh....mold. Nearly gagging,
I left the water running in hopes it would loosen some of the
growth and turned back to her.

Crossing over to her, I put my hand out to shake hers and
said, "I'm Sammi Spayde. Nice to meecha." She took my hand
and gave me one of those limp wrist kinda shakes. I went
around to my desk (another term I use loosely) I knew I had
one, it's buried under neath.....this. My chair was laying on it's
side, I picked it up and sat as though Business as usual, crossing
my legs and "trying" to look professional. Leaning forward a bit,
"and your are?" She looked at me startled, I think she realized
that she never introduced herself." Um uh... I'm Peg ...uh
Margaret Chisolm. Pleased to meet you." she swallowed.
Obviously this one isn't familiar with Private Dick Etiquitte.

"What can I do for you, Peg?" I asked as I scrambled for a
clean contract and pen. "Aha!" I found one at the bottom of
the 2nd pile and smiled at the little Miss triumphantly.

Nervously, she started to fiddle with her handbag, twisting
the clasp around and around. "Um, I.. I need your help finding
someone." She just stopped. (sheesh, It's gonna be like
pulling teeth outta this dame.) "Okay," and I nodded at her
to continue. Taking a deep breath she spoke in a rush,
"My half brother. He seems to have dropped off the face of the
earth and ... and.. I know he was worried about something...)
She trailed off again. Pen in hand, "Let me get some background
information, ok?" She nodded gratefully. "What's your brother's
name?" She looked at me and asked quietly, "Whatever I
tell you stays here, it's like confidential, right?" Raising her
eyes hopefully to me. "Absolutely." Taking another deep
breath, she said, "His name's Thomas. Tommy Sandee."

Shit.
 
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Melanie

I needed a job My husband just left and me with two kids and no money and no great skills, I picked up the paper and looked at the help-wanted ads. There was one for a waitress at a club, and it said evening work. Just what I needed so I coiuld be with the kids during the day, and leave them with my neighbor in the evening and they would be in bed early.

It said apply in person and gave an address

I knew it was trouble when I saw the place, but what the hell. In I went and asked to see the manager about the job they had advertised. I was directed to a small office, and when I kncked on the closed door and was invited in, I REALLY knew it was trouble

I told the greaseball behind the desk my name was Melanie, because I couldnt use my real name. He looked e over, and took thge cigar out of his mouth ad asked me to strip and show him my assets. I needed the job and thought "what the hell", so I droppd my skirt and opened my blouse and stood there with my 36Cs pointed at him, and my black pussy hair showing through my sheer panties

He said "I told you to strip!", so I did and my 5'7" frame towered over him and my tits dangled over his face when he told me to step closer

Then my newly found trouble was just beginning
 
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Agnes Cooch

I knew she was trouble the minute I laid on eyes on her.

There the woman stood with soft chocolate eyes looking at me as if .. was something showing ??? I looked down in fear my slip had fallen down below my knees.

I had walked from the train station, took a right turn instead of a left at Maple and had been lost for the last two hours. Thank God, he looked out for me and that policeman (whose boot I tripped over while turning onto Main), cause I finally got onto the right trolley and there I stood.. in the lobby of Miss Minnie's Boarding House.

I just stood there while that woman whose stare made me nervous.. very nervous....kept staring.

I knew she was going to be trouble, trouble for me. She was beautiful and definately a woman of the world. I heard Miss Minnie say something about 'Your new roommate!'.. Maybe if I just slip by her, she'll leave me alone and stop staring!

But no.. .like a wind of electricity she rushed over to me, took my valise and started up the stairs. I followed her ...well..I guess some might think a little sheepishly, but I was new and didn't want to make a fool of myself.

"Hello! I'm Dixie"

All I could think was.."Dixie. Wow. Great name. I'm dead."
 
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First Meetings....

I knew she was trouble the minute I laid on eyes on her....

Well it is official, we now had a mouse in the house.... well Miss Minnie welcomes all types.

"Just settle down Missy" as she loved to say to me and I bet she figured this new roomy would do the trick...

*Wicked grin*

All I could think of was brown... everything about her is brown. From the top of her head to her sensible shoes.... even the tip of her slip hanging out at the back of her skirt....well except for the little bit of black soot across the tip of her nose where she had apparently pushed up her glasses....

Well enough of this. Grabbing her brown valise, I headed to the stairs .... turning my head I looked back and threw her a sassy smile...

"Hello! I'm Dixie"

I still can’t help wondering what her first impression of me was…
 
Victor "Broderick" Cimino

The moment I laid eyes on her as she was leaving Mr Salieri's office I could smell trouble, she was no regular pro skirt she seemed to be and either she was a newshawk or a snitch on some snooper's payroll. As she adjusted her dress I recognised the deal: Mr Salieri had been checking the tomato up himself. At 55 he was still as much of a horny number as he had been 20 or 30 years ago. I made a mental note to check her myself if time allowed.

We waited patiently, Jimmy and I, to be allowed to meet the high pillow and when we entered the scatter it reeked of sex, they must have been at it for a few hours.

"Wipe that smile off your kisser if you want to leave here with all your munchers intact!" I warned Jimmy who grinned like some perverted lech while Mr Salieri was pouring himself a shot of corn.

Mr Salieri turned to us, and I couldn't help but envy him the looks. At 55 he still loked fresh as 30, no wrinkles on his face or grey hair. One charming goose he was and women were swooning left and right when he entered a drum or a casino and in 5 minutes max he would be entering some private office for a shag or two. Jesus, I hated the man and at the same time I respected and admired him.

"Sit down, boys, sit down," he smiled at us paternally. "Now, tell me, Victor, my friend, what do you know?"

"Well, Mr Salieri, we know who's jawing, where to find him and the grudge he holds. Shall I drill him?" I asked.

"No, no, no, Victor, you're way too hasty, son. You go and bring him here. I will talk to him..." this was no good! For this Sandee guy I mean. Mr Salieri must have been in a reall pissy mood to want to talk to the guy personally. It was a ticket for hospital care for a few months if not a wooden kimono from the start. He must have had some pent up steam to let go off. Ah yes, this would be a pleasure to watch Mr Salieri at work... I could have been one tough bruno but Mr Salieri was an artist when it came to messing around with people's maps. "And Victor, you do that tomorrow. Tail him for today, see where he goes after work and who he sees. We might need to talk to some of his friends and relatives as well. Capisce?"

"Yes, Mr Salieri. It's a pleasure working for you," I said and got to up to leave.

"Wait, wait. What about that op he talked to?"

"She'll be dutch, Mr Salieri."

"Ah, I envy you, Victor, my son. You do know people so well. You should be here in my shoes." Mr Salieri shook his head. "Jimmy, you tail the shamus, take Matt with you in case there's problems. Go, boys, and bring me good news."

We nodded and left. The day looked even brighter now and despite the postponing of talk with Sandee I knew I would have some fun with him the following day, before taking him to meet Mr Salieri. The guy could definitely use some softening after taking our money and then paying the shamus with it.
 
I knew she was trouble

the minute I laid eyes on her.......................but somehow I knew even then I'd never be able to live without her. Smooth curves in all the right places and more than a little pleasing to the eyes, she was my salvation and my destruction all wraped into one delightful package. The guys at the precinct kidded me mercilessly at first but after a while they got used to her and just kinda forgot how the lootenants life was just a bit different.

Paul Vance

Lootenant to you ok???????
And no smart mouth from da cheap seats......I aint havin any - not now an not later. I spent my youth on these streets with no momma an no poppa - did all of it the hard way and learned to stay alive by watching my own back. When I was 15 a flatfoot named Eddie Barzoom pinched me for swiping food from Angelo Gucciones cart up on 72nd, dragged me home and locked me in his spare bedroom for a year or so until I got "civilized". Best thing that ever happened to me. Eddie was the only family I ever had. Too bad it didn't last long. The day I turned 18 Eddie caught a stay round in a Hooch bust. They told me he never felt a thing - dead in less than a minute.......

I took it pretty hard. Felt sorry for myself just long enough to become a Copper so's I could even the score and then it was too late. I found out I was good at being a Cop. Twenty years later I'm getting a belly, losing my hair and growing an attitude. Too mean to be married an too handsome to be ignored, I'm hard on a skirt and harder on the local wise guys. I figure if I'm lucky, I'll catch one like Eddie and not have to start feelin sorry for myself for getting old.

6'2", 220, lanky, balding (so I wear a hat) piercing dark eyes, most of my own teeth and a permanent scowl. If I weren't such an asshole, I'd be loveable.

All the same,

I knew she was trouble the minute I laid eyes on her but I christened her "Eddies Hope", moved my few belongings aboard a week after Eddies death and began to plot Salieris date with justice. I knew the slick bastard was responsible just like he'd pulled the trigger himself and sooner or later I was doing to send his no good Dago ass up river so far and so long he'd never see daylight again. Twenty years and ten coats of good bottom paint later, I was still working the case.

I'd succeeded on a small scale twice. Two years the first time and five the second. Salieri did his time standing on his head, laughing at me from his country club prison. Seven years turned into two and a half and the bastard had the guards shining his damn shoes the whole time. The "Hopes" gentle motion as she tugged at her mooing lines was probably the only thing that kept me at least somewhat sane.

It wasn't over tho. Just a few days ago, a cabbie named Tommy Sandee did a bad thing and saw something he wasn't supposed to saw. Salieri sent one of his goons around to buy him off but the hack jockey took the dough, used it to disappear and put the bite on Wop central for more green. He also made sure I knew where to find him if things got too rough. Looking back on it now, I figure he should have been a Gypsy, he was so good at predicting the future...........
 
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I knew she was trouble the first second I laid eyes on her....

I knew there wasn't no turning back, the very first time I walked out onto that stage and had that damn light hit me. She is a seductive bitch, merciless, and I can't help that I love her.

They say you go on stage 'cuz ya didn't get enough love from your parents. That is sure as hell true enough in my case. Mom was a lush before I was born, and Pop was gone more than he wasn't, and mean when he wasn't. That flea bit excuse for a town made sure I knew I was their pet charity case, the sanctimonious bastards. I couldn't wait to see the back end of that place. Took me til I was 15, but I managed to escape, and have never once looked back.

The stage, though, I knew she was trouble, and the kind I just wasn't gonna be able to resist. She uses a person, body and soul, and then tosses them aside without a thought. We have been dancing our private little tango together, she and I, for a few years now. The audience thinks I am there for them, but we know the truth, that damn stage and I. I never feel more alive than when I am standing there, all eyes on me, feeling the music wash over me, the heat of the lights making my eyes squint and my skin tingle...

Oh, yeah, she was trouble, all right.

Right now, we dance together, she and I, at this little dive of a speakeasy in Chicago. Nice enough town, for now. Lots of men with lots of money to throw around, and they all seem to like to throw it at me. Hell, if they are throwin', I catchin' it. I can use it if they can't. Have to make myself beautiful for that bitch, the stage. Don't want her to cast me off just yet. Them kind a clothes and stuff cost a pretty penny, lots more than they pay a singer, no matter how good she is, and I am definitely good, at just about everything I do....
 
Angelo

“I knew the twist was trouble the minute I had laid eyes on her,” I muttered through a cloud of smoke as I glanced once again at my gilt pocket watch. She was a star, completely in love; no that is not quite her style. Enthralled with the stage and to hell with everything else, that was more like Leslie. She had talent, yes, natural, raw potent. It was a beautiful thing to see and hear. But… But she was not the first twist these eyes had watched fly across the stage. She is just another singer with a few moves, a few perfect curves, and a sultry voice like fine whiskey to match her eyes.

Leslie was something’ else. All the love, and none of the heart. I wondered once in a while if she was aware of that herself. I shrugged off that thought and crushed out my smoke. “Elmo,” I barked with my gravely voice from beneath the brim of my fedora, “looks like you got stood up again.” I did not wait for him to turn from the keys to answer me, “Just so long as youse got that new number down, lets hope that the twat can carry her new favorite tune.”

“Seamus,” I called over my shoulder as I rose and strode over to lean on the end of the hand carved mahogany that overlooked the dance floor and stage beyond. Without a word, he just set out the square glass and dropped two cubes of ice into this clarity with distinct clinks. I said nothing as I heard the lid slide off the neck of the scotch, not the average bottle of paint that we sold to the johnnies. No this was my stock, smuggled, expensive, and worth every penny and then some. “Thanks,” I said hoarsely as I tossed back the glass.

Then looking at Seamus, I smiled. “Well, now well see if the cunt can really sing, or if we should just send her upstairs with the others.” I laughed and shook a smoke out of my gold cigarette case, “All set for tonight?” I asked in my most manager like voice, taking the bottle of Loch Fyne to pour myself another one while I waited for his reassurance that everything was, as usual perfect. He was about to rattle off when we took in the shipment of juice early this morning. He was about to tell me how well the chorus girls looked and everything else. It made him feel like he was doing his job, and well, gave the illusion that I was doing mine.

The quiet of the shuffling off of the chorus line and the band was music to my tired ears, soon it would be standing room only in here and this once dingy old flop hall would be a dazzling array of sounds and shouts, tumbling dice, and maybe even a siren's song. That thought made me almost crack a smile from under fedora. "Just a couple a hours, Seamus, just a couple more hours," I muttered. "Well," I said loudly raising up, "here's to it then." I tossed back the sctoch, "The taste of crime my boy," I smiled at Seamus and turned to head for my office in the back.
 
Samantha Spayde

I knew she ws trouble the minute I laid eyes on her. Sheesh,

Can I call it or what????

Tommy Sandee. The crapola just hit the fan. Thanking my
lucky stars that I'd spent so much time with my Dad, the
Poker-Face Cop. I don't think she noticed the fact that internally,
I was catching flies. Inside of this calm lovely exterior, my
eyes were bulging, my tongue hanging out and my heart just
skipped a beat.

Trying to look professional, I got up, crossed to the sink,
dried and rinsed out the coffee cups, poured us both a hot
one and handed her the mug without the big chip in it. (let
my lips be wary) She took it gratefully and as I sat at my
desk, I pulled out a flask. "Want some?" Surprising me greatly,
Miss Peg Chilsolm, held out her cup, smiled and said "Hit me."
 
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Samantha Spayde

I knew she was trouble the minute I laid eyes on her.

And a surprise too.

I could feel my eyebrow lift in surprise as I poured a stiff shot
into first her coffee, then my own. Leaning back in my chair
I watched her over the rim of my steaming mug and tried to
decide how much to tell her.

Another surprise, she took a healthy swig and asked me (rather
astutely I thought), "You know my brother?"
"Should I?" I asked back. She almost smiled at me then, and
taking another sip of courage, she said "I sent him to you. and
then..........he, he uhm...disappeared."

Taking a minute myself, I sighed. "Yeah, I know Tommy. And
he did come to see me." and standing now, I crossed to my
abused file cabinet, "But, I can't tell you anything." There was
silence across the room. As I rifled thru my files, "He's a client
Peg and what we talked about is......Goddammit!". I turned
to her and said, "Hell, that's the file that's been stolen, I knew
it!" She looked startled and I could see fear now. Slamming
the file drawer shut, I headed across to the wash room and
looked over my shoulder. "Watch the door, Sister." She had
been following me, now she swiveled to the left and stood
like a sentry guarding my door.

Reaching up behind the tank, I moved the hanging chain,
draping it across the tank and reached underneath and around
it for the package I'd taped earlier. Thank God, it was still
there. Ha! I love that trick. "What a bunch of mooks, " I
muttered to myself. Reaching the door, I shoved the taped
envelope into Peg's hands, "Hold this for a sec." Grabbing
a chair I angled it underneath the knob not allowing
anyone else to enter.

As I sat back down behind my desk, she handed me the
package. She was biting her lip, and I felt some strange
compulsion to comfort her (wholly unlike me). "Listen, Peg.
Answer me this, Did your brother tell you ...why...he was
worried? What it was about?" Shaking her head slightly,
"Not much. Just that he saw something, ya know while
driving his hack, and...and he was ...worried." She took a
really large swig "and I thought that if he needed to, you know
figure out what to do and since he wouldn't go see the cops, I..
She trailed off there. Nodding my head, I could see her
reasoning. Putting my hand up to stop further questions,
I looked her directly in the eye, "And I'm not going to tell you
either. There's a reason why Tommy gave you no details.
But if it makes you feel any better, The file those thugs took
is.....fiction."
Smiling, I added..........."Doncha love a good read?"
 
I knew he was trouble the minute I laid eyes on him…

Once upon a time he’d probably been considered a golden boy but not any more… not this one. At a glance you knew he’d lived life to the fullest.. and lived it defiantly on the shady side. He’d been around the block more than a few times. His body bore the scars to prove it. It made no difference to the woman’s heart that beat deep in my chest. From the moment his golden eyes met mine, I was hooked. He had the eyes of a predator...hot and hungry... Probably felt more at home in the back alley’s of this city, than he would ever feel in some nice lady’s front parlor.

He’d been hanging around the dive for a few days. I’d seen him sizing the joint up before he made his move… you could tell from just a glance that as far as he was concerned, we were here solely as the universes way of amusing him…so here I was… on my knees… my eyes never leaving his… my hand reaching out…so softly… yessssss…..

My voice was like honey: smooth and sweet, "Mickey, Yes it’s a strong name for such a mean ole' tom." the yellow alley cat was actually letting me pet him this time....

Turning my head, I look past where Walter the bus boy, sat on a milk crate doodling, to the imposing figure of Donny our boss. He stood, at the counter, his apron tied around his huge middle.. Donny was a tough one. He’d been a soldier in the big war...the war to end all wars that is…. I think he’d been a cook someplace over there or something…said he’d named the place Louie’s for a fallen comrade or some such …or maybe that nephew of his that had died in that awful place and time… I wasn’t quite sure…..

My voice sang out….“Hey Donny, the tomcat is back and we really need a mouser around here. Can I let him stick around please?” Even as I asked the question, I couldn’t help noticing that there were more than a few copper in the place….and straight pass them…out the window…. I spotted Miss Minnie and Miss Mouse, as I had lovingly come to think of my roomy…Agnes… Both crossing the street to avoid the shadowy alley… where THE door was… the one with the little window… the door that opened to only those who knew the magical words…the door that led to another kingdom… where the rules didn’t apply. Where the only thing that mattered was pleasure… The world of the Scarlet Lady…
 
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Seamus

Something was wrong. As he watched Angelo disappear he felt rather than saw danger. Seamus hadn't felt this way since that fateful day at Mullingar when he had spun around just in time to see the British bayonet miss his face.

Still stare as he might, he could not see trouble anywhere. Seamus ran his hand through his slick black hair and glanced at himself in the mirror. He was resplendent in his long white dress shirt with the red garter band over his right forearm. His black vest covered the tops of his pressed pants - Angelo demanded they run a "class joint" to attract the upper class people. Just to be sure, he took a quick tour of the place, checking the alley on Monroe street nodding to Paddy O'Brian walking his beat. Paddy was one of their cops on the take - it was the only way to assure protection from the law. Still he saw nothing.

Seamus let out a visible sigh. The place was starting to fill up and soon she might appear so he had best get his act together. Seamus was quite smitten by this dame. The trouble is they had never even spoken. It was his secret and no one knew but him. Still, he was afraid that his gaze often lingered a bit too long, and his eyes had a hard time just staying on her face if ya know what I mean. Someone - maybe even her - was bound to notice his attention some day. He wasn't guilty though - far from it. Give the guy a break. She had curves that would put Josephine Baker to shame! What a dish!

He looked up just in time to see a new face enter the establishment and knew that she was trouble the minute he saw her. If he only knew how right he was, Seamus would have quit on the spot ...
 
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Samantha Spayde

Yup, trouble all right. More than she realized and more than
I wanted to let on. My orbs hadn't failed me yet.

Opening the plastic wrapped manila envelope I reached for
a pen. "Peg, When I met with Tommy he didn't tell me he
had a sister. Or family of any kind. I can see the reasoning
behind that,.....can you?" I spoke quietly and with my eyes tried
to tell her things my pretty red lips ... wouldn't.

She was quiet, still biting her lips though her hands were
mangling her pretty cloth purse. I waited for her response,
she was an intelligent dame and I could tell ... no canary.
But her relationship with her brother could cause her some
bodily hurt. I wanted to see if she could figure that out on
her own.

Finally, she spoke, almost a whisper. "He's in some kind of
trouble isn't he?" I didn't speak just waited for her to finish
this thought to it's inevitable conclusion. Sighing she finished
her irish coffee and a little louder said, "He's trying to protect
me. The less I know...." her voice trailing off. Nodding
at her solemn expression I asked the only thing I could.
"Peg, how hard is it gonna be to find out that you and Tommy
are related?" She looked at me, eyes round and full of
understanding. "Pretty difficult, I think. We have different
fathers, different surnames. I live over by the Lake and we
don't get together too often. In fact, " she swallowed. "We usually meet over at Louis Diner, when I make it to town that
is. He's...pretty busy and I work..."

I stood up nodding at her, " Peg. Go home. Don't go back
to Louis and ...don't ask any more questions." Removing
the chair from it's perch. "I will tell you this", turning to her
suddenly sad face, "I don't know if Tommy took off himself,
or....But I do know what this is about. I'll find him." Watching
her start to open her purse, "Keep your money, Peg. I'm
working for Tommy, not you. But lemme give you some much
needed advice." She looked up at me, resignation written all
over her face. "Keep your eyes and ears open. It may keep
you safe. You could be a weapon, one "they" could use to
draw your brother out. Do you understand?" She nodded, her
eyes filled with unshed tears. I handed her my card, wrote
my home number on the back. "Call me if you hear
from him , though I doubt you will." She stood at the door,
and looked back at me, "and don't come here again, right?"
Nodding, satisfied she understood the danger she might
be in. "Right, and Peg...take the long way home, k?"

She asked me, "Don't you want my number?" Shaking my
head no I said, "Too much information could be dangerous.
They know about me...........not you. Call me every coupla
days, ok?" She reached out and (egads) hugged me. I patted
her back awkwardly, (I'm not too good at the touchy feely stuff)
and ........... she left.

Shutting the door, I could feel my head starting to hurt behind
my eyes. I could see I was gonna have to get the damn door
fixed. When they jimmied the lock, they caused some buckling.
the door now sticks. Oh goody.

Putting the folder in my briefcase, I went and poured myself
some bromo fizz (knowing it wasn't gonna help) but Hell, there's
a first time for everything.

Hmmm, I'm gonna have to track down Vance. Share some
info. Though that damn stubborn man, doesn't seem to know
what "share" means. Sighing, I put my trench coat back on
noticing for the umpteenth time the small bullet hole in the
pocket, hmmm should get that fixed. People might notice and
wonder. Though maybe the only person who'd notice it's from
shooting out not in, might be the Loo.

Striding to the door, I pulled on the knob. Stuck. Yanked real
hard the second time. This time it opened. Brought with
it a jumbled mass of legs, brown coat, hair and legs. "Ummmph!"
I could hear the mass say. Sheesh my heart went a pitter
patter for a sec. Sitting on the floor was..........a woman. I think.
She was trying to get up at the same time and still pull her
skirt down from over her head. Tapping my foot, I waited.

Finally she managed to stand. Slip half down around her ankles, her hair falling from what might have started out as a nice
little bun she blinked and said, "Um, Hello. It's me Agnes Cooch."

Raising a brow, "Who?" She looked a little flustered. "Um
Agnes, your new... secretary." Seeing the blank expression
on my face. "You are Miss Spayde, aren't you?" Numb, I nodded.
duh......She held out her letter and said, "I'm from Miss Blindie's
secretarial school." As if that answered a question I hadn't asked.
"Your point being?"
 
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Agnes Cooch

There standing before me was a whole lotta trouble.. I knew it the moment my eyes focused enough to see her...

"I was hired while at the school to come and be your secretary. See? I have my letter right here!" I unceremoniously thrust my letter of employment into Miss Spayde's hands..and just continued to keep talking.. as if that would speed up this awkward moment and make it go away.

"Though I have to admit, having a woman as a boss was something I wasn't exactly sure about.. I mean.. its just not what I'm used to. They didn't teach us things like that at the school. I mean a woman as a boss? And not to mention a private investigator, but what exactly does an investigator do? Are you the actual investigator? I've never been in an investigator office before. I am a crackerjack secretary Miss Spayde, I take dictation at 100 words per minute, I can organize any filing sys... " my words stuck halfway out of my mouth when the condition of the room around me.. a room that I am finally now fully standing in.. also started to become clear.

While scanning my new found surroundings, my eyes catch the eyes of what I am guessing is Miss Spayde's client. They are like huge scared saucers and she is staring at me with her mouth hanging open like a broken hinge. Why does there always seem to be people who haven't learned that staring is highly rude, they seem to have a problem with it, and be wherever I go? She kept staring at me as if I had just fallen off a dust wagon and rolled into their meeting. So I smiled at her.

Oh! My! A Meeting!

"Oh, my.. I'm interrupting ....I'm.. I'm ..so sorry! I can just go out here and ..and... get to... ah.. work. Ah.. is that where I'm supposed to work?"

Ramblin like a freight train through Georgia, and all the while pulling my slip back up to its normal position, I tried taking in the ....ah... condition of the my first professional work space. oh gee! During these long moments, Miss Spayde had greedily taken in the letter of employment from Miss Blindie's with a look of total confusion and possibly a little irritation.

"Ah... you were expecting me. Weren't you Miss Spayde? I was to report to you this morning at 9 am. But (I could feel the blush start from my neck up to my ears) ..but.. I got a little lost at first. Miss Minnie, she's the owner of the boarding house....ah...well.. she helped me find my way here. And..so here I am!"

Taking the best 'ta da' pose I could muster, I tried to make myself look promising.

"Ta da!"

I felt my slip start sliding down again .. (blush) so halfway through my pose I reached down to rescue it from its quickening southernly journey.

Smile.
 
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Elmo St Paul

My fingers slid easily over the ivories in my rendition of 'Ain't misbehaven', a slow
sensual blues arangement me and the boys had worked up. It was the perfect song for Daisy had just come on stage. she wouldn't be any trouble, easy to work with, easy to talk to and just plain easy, if you know what I mean, a no strings attached kind of gal, shes been been here just about as long as I have almost. two years now, about as long as I'd been any place and the reason was obvious as my fingeres caressed the keys of my baby grand. Smooth and sleek taking everything I gave her.

I knew she was trouble as soon as I walked into the Scarlet Lady and saw her on the stage. I shoulda just turned around and walked out but she drew me like a moth top a flame and once I touched her, ran my fingers over her, opened her up, sat down and embraced her, made music with her, I was lost. That was two years ago and tonight, The sax player was hot and the trumpet player was playing his heart out. It was going to be a great night. I smiled at the girl as she finished up. I nodded my approval to the rest of the band and signaled them to move into a short version of 'Chicago' while they got ready for the next set behind the curtain. I needed to take five get a drink and maybe step back int the cool night air for a minute, listen to the sounds of the night. Let 'her' and me cool off til the next set.
 
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Lootenant Vance

Trouble - always trouble - a thousand shapes and sizes, four hundred and sixty two shades of blue and red and everything from dead silent to enough to shatter eardrums, but it was all trouble and todays variety slammed into my peepers like a saturday matinee cartoon.

Of course I spotted her - that's what they pay me for. All the same, I got a real funny feeling watching the strange skirt cross the street. I'd just pulled up to the curb in front of O'Mallys five and dime for my morning cup of Joe, when there she comes in her bright red dress with the slip hanging two inches below the hemline, making her way into Spaydes office across the street. Oh she was clutsy alright - broke my heart into a hundred pieces just walking in front of me. I knew right away that I was gonna have to pay a visit to the dickless dick to get the line on this one..........
 
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Leslie

Rolling over in bed, my eyes still closed, I thought of that damn man again. Oh, I had known he was trouble, alright, right from the very first second. Him and his all-knowing eyes and superiour attitude. Men like him just made my blood boil.

Curling onto my side, hugging a pillow to me, I cracked an eye open, looking at the alarm clock I never bothered to set on the night stand in front of me. Holy hell, if I didn't get my fanny outta bed, there was no telling what was gonna happen. I had already missed rehersal, and that always got his ire up. Ah, hell, the only way to handle it was to just act like it didn't happen.

Dragging myself out of bed, I go over to the closet and open the door. A rainbow of silk and satin resides behind that grimey door. You'd never know it, in that dive. Pulling out a lavender beaded silk job, I pull it over my head, not bothering with anything underneath. Even if I had had the time, hell, they just get in the way. Glancing in the mirror, I drag a comb through my curls, and tie a piece of lace around my head, then quickly put my darkest red lipstick on. Thinking, well, that will just have to do, I grab my clutch, and run out the door, banging it closed and turning quickly to lock it. The lock won't keep anyone out who seriously wants in, but it will stop the nosey tramp down the hall from picking through my dresses.

Rushing out of the building, I wave down a taxi that looked like it was headed for a businessman just up the street. The driver took a quick look at me, and thought better of that boring suit, screeching to a halt right in front of me. Giving him the address to the dive I was already late for, I sat back on the seat and watched the city flash past me. The taxi was going to take just about the very last of the money I had, but I didn't trust what that man would do if I were any more late.

When the taxi stopped at the front of the alley, I got out, and paid the man, giving him just a small tip, but a wink and a blown kiss as well. Walking down to the nondiscript door, I toss a glance over my shoulder to make sure the taxi is still blocking the view to the street before knocking on the door. The window slid open, and a pair of eyes peered out.

"Password?"

"If ya don't let me in, that bossman is gonna kick both our asses."

"Oh. hey, Les, he was jus' askin' about ya."

"Yeah, yeah, I figured. So, ya gonna open that door, or are ya gonna let me catch my death out here?"

The window shuts with a snap as the door squeeks open. Gin fumes mixed with the smell of spearmint rush out into the alley as I duck quickly through the door, and make my way through the gloom straight for the bar. Might as well get the confrontation over with sooner, rather than putting it off any longer.
 
Samantha

Trouble? Oh yeah...I knew it the minute I laid eyes on the
the rambling whirl in front of me.

Totally confused, I waved Peg away as I tried to read the
letter of employment before me while listening to the non-stop
choo-choo dame in front of me. Hell, that's my signature.
Closing my eyes, I muttered, "Not again...........hell." I had
no memory of hiring this....woman, I knew I probably had.
Not the first time, I seemed to have done something "for
my own good" again. I knew this constant forgetting stuff
wasn't normal, but hadn't a notion of how I could stop it let
alone fix it. Hmmm musta been drunk. Once again I shrugged
off another annoying "happenstance" and looked at the
woman standing in front of me. "God's nightgown! Shut up
already!" Oooops, didn't mean to say that. She.....just shut
up, eyes big and nervous.

"Let's start over....Miss Cooch" finally having found her name
on the letter. I smiled, figured I'd wing it .......... again.
"As you can see, " I said as I waved at the mess around me.
"I obviously need some help. Desperately." Waving a hand
limply at the chair in front of my desk, "Please...sit."

Sitting at my desk, I felt a little control slip back where it belonged.....in me. She sat awkwardly and tried smiling back
at me. "Agnes, forgive my outburst. I'm having one of those
days." Poor thing, what the hell is wrong with her slip, had
she not heard of full-length slips? At least they don't trail
the floor. But sheesh, I shouldn't complain. I am getting a free dusting.

Reaching out to shake her hand, "Yes, I'm Miss Spayde. Please
call me Sam, okay?. Now... I'm in the middle of a case and have to
run soon so let me outline what I need you to started on."
Reaching under one pile, I tossed her a steno pad and a pen.

She honestly tried to catch it. The pad landed at her feet and
the pen...well...it landed in her bosom. Caught in the weave
and stood straight out like an...arrow. I tried not to laugh when
she bent to pick up the steno pad, "Ouch.", she quietly screeched.
I could see the red blossom on her face as she plucked the
offending pen out of her blouse leaving a lovely shade of
black ink stained right there between her breasts and bent
to pick up the pad.

Good for her, she just sat there pretending this was completely
normal, composed and ready to take dictation. Oh, this
is gonna be interesting, I thought to myself.

"Okay.............1st, I need you to call Acme Locks and get
them out here pronto, to replace the lock on the front door" and
waving at the file drawers, "the file cabinet." Muttering I added
under my breath, "Um we had a little break-in last night."
She stopped writing for a second, eyes round and mouth
gaping. "Ahem...2nd. Call .... somebody and get another
file cabinet installed. Um... 3 locks for everything. One
for me, you and an extra just in case. Got it?"

She nodded, and since I was on a roll...continued. "This
all needs to be done today. Pay 'em extra if ya have to."

She asked "Anything else?" I was impressed. She was
pulling off the calm and composed bit, with her hair falling,
her slip resting on the floor and a huge black ink stain
in the center of her chest.
Nodding, "Your desk is ..out there" I pointed to the outer office.
"There should be a phone book there...somewhere. Ummm,
the business check book is in the 2nd drawer down, just sign
my name and make sure you get an invoice or receipt or
somthing. You'll be keeping the books too." She nodded,
I think with a sort of sick look on her face.
"See if you can do something with ....all of this" I said my hands
opening and indicating...the entire room.

At this, she gulped and said...."sure.." "Anything you need,
just...order it, okay?" She was writing furiously, (probably
one of those List-making types.) "I gotta go and see a cop
I know, oh and Miss Cooch?" She looked up at me. "NO
information goes out of this office. Ever. What we offer
and damn well guarentee is.........confidentiality. Got it?"
She nodded again. (what happened to little Miss Chat-A-Lot
who was here a minute ago??)

Leaving her to it...............I grabbed my trench coat and beat
feet the Hell outta there.
 
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VAnce

Coffee finished - time to beat feet an hit the street - Stepped outside a O'Mallys an was just getting into the sled when outta tha blue comes Dickless............I knew it was trouble the second I spun around and locked eyes on her trying to act like she was only one person - Ha - Can't fool me - I'm a cop, remember????????????
 
Angelo

“There’s trouble herself,” I muttered to myself as I watched her flutter in towards the bar in a rush as if nothing was wrong. Obviously, she barely rolled out of bed, Leslie’s hair was not quite perfect, and her skirt was a bit ruffled as if she just jumped out of a cab with cracked seats. Didn’t she look the perfect little shooting star? I laughed to myself as I quietly opened the door to my office and slipped through the shadows towards the bar. I wanted to catch her a bit off guard. She always wanted to prove how strong she was, how manly. Undoubtedly, she was one of those tarts that voted. “What the hell is the world coming to?” I asked myself in a whisper as I crept behind the lines of dark chairs still atop tables at the back of the floor.

I stood a few feet away, my face draped in the shadows of the place, the way I liked it best. These quiet hours before it filled with light and noise were my favorite hours. Leslie was starting to chatter a bit with Seamus, some things at least never change. “Well, well, well,” I began loudly and slowly then pausing to flare my face momentarily beneath the brim of my fedora as I lit a smoke, then snapped my lighter closed with a harsh direct flick of the wrist before continuing my measured tirade. “So nice of you to join us little miss tuffet.” I took a few long strides towards the bar that forced Seamus to retreat a bit to give me space to continue her admonishment. “You do realize that Elmo and the boys were here for two hours for absolutely nothing?”

She opened her mouth to respond, but I cut her off by grabbing her left forearm and jerking her hard to face me. “Just because you are a bird that can sing, doesn’t mean you are more than one missed note away from being put into a cage with the rest of the doves,” I gave a quick glance up to the second floor where the working girls waited in their rooms for their johns. Then I narrowed my steel blue eyed gaze and looked intensely into Leslie’s eyes, “ya get my drift sister?” Her face went from a shade of fear to a crimsoning of rage. She looked like she could spit, so I held her arm tighter to maintain the control of the moment.

“Now,” I smiled coldly as I released her wrist only to swat her perfect ass in an completely unfriendly and very audible slap, “get your pretty little ass in your dressing room and get yer war paint on.” With that, I stepped half a pace back and raised a threatening index finger, then blew a cloud of blue grey smoke in her face as I turned around and strode back to my office.
 
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Samantha Spayde

Oh. I knew he was trouble the minute I laid eyes on him...again.

Trying to smile as he lumbered (there is no other word, trust
me) towards me. He had a strange almost amused look on
his face, ( and I was not about to ask the Loo what was on his mind - for Cripes sake - he'd tell me.)

"Hey Vance," I was just gonna come looking for you.", I said
oh-so-seriously. He opened his mouth, I forestalled the bear
and put up my hand. "Not here," I whispered. "Meet me
at Louis'., I'll buy ya a coffee." He grunted at me, "Any more
coffee and my teeth'll be doing the back stroke." My, don't
he have a way with words. "Get going, it's important Vance."

I stepped away quickly, hoping that he'd figure someone
might be watching me. He turned and (I swear) grunted
again. "Neanderthal man at it's best", I muttered. I could
hear his growl as I headed for the el, "I heard that, Dickless."

Hmmmm, dickless. Leave it to Vance to call me such sweet
endearments. And a friend to my father too! I slipped down
the stairs and made like I was gonna catch the El, but instead
walked to the next stairways and headed up off Wannamaker
exit, walked up the stairs, crossed the street and headed into
Louis.

He was already there. How does he do that?, I wondered.
It's unnverving. He was in a booth in the back, okay so he
figured out I might be tailed. I slipped into the Naugahide
faux red leather booth across from him.

"Thanks," I muttered. (probably not too graciously)
He waved a waitress over and despite his earlier protestations
ordered a cuppa joe. Pointing at me, he added "Make it two."
"What's on your mind, Samantha?" hmmmpf, he knows I'd rather
be called Sam or Sammi. I wasn't sure how much to tell him
but I also knew that if he knew anything about the Salieri's
and this had much to do with 'em, he'd run with it.
"I got a client who has .... disappeared. What worries me, is
that I wanna make sure he ...left on his own. and" I caught
his eye now, "well, I want to know if you know anything about
it, or....if you can find out." He looked at me, eyes gone
to slits. "Who is this "client, D.?" Taking a breath, I said
"A cabbie. Name of Tommy Sandee. You know him?"

For just a spit second, I saw a flash of recognition cross
his eyes, then..the shutters came down. "Should I?" he asked.
I got a little angry. Always games with this guy! "I'm betting you do, Loo. They isn't much that goes on in this town, that
you don't know!" Smiling slightly, he said, "You give me too
much credit.............Samantha." "Dammit, Vance. I don't
have time for your games." I clutched my head as a very
sharp pain slashed into my temples. Everything went dark
for a split second and then a slow smile crossed my face,
"C'mon Paul.... help her out." He sat up a little straighter,
"Liv?" he asked quietly. I reached up, undid the french
braid and fingered my hair loose. Then reached across and
slid a very red nail across his wrist. "Yes, big guy. It's me,
Olivia." I slid that disgusting trench coat off, and unbuttoned
a couple of buttons knowing he'd be watching. We go back, big bad Paul and me. He's the fella that we lost our virginity to
back on our 17th birthday while our party raged on downstairs.
Too bad, Sam doesn't remember, I laughed to myself.
 
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Vance

I almost made it into the car.............I heard my name and turned to greet ..............Trouble - Trouble with a capital T and that rhymes with C and that stands for City and that's what we got here folks - Trouble - right here in Windy City.

Samantha Spayed, only daughter of two of the nicest people who ever lived. When we were kids we had a "thing" but I could never get used to there being two of her. Sammy and Olivia - two more different broads couldn't exist in the same city never mind the same body but at least Sammy was blissfully unaware that Olivia lived "next door". It was more than a little weird.

She braced me in the street and insisted on a parlay at Louis. I would have given her the brush off but she said it was important so ten minutes later I was sitting in one of Louis overstuffed booths listening to Sammy ramble on.

She was worried about a client - a Cabbie named tommy Sandee - he's missing and do I know where he might be??????

Gee no Sam - I never heard of the guy who took money from the mob to keep his mouth shut about something that could put that prick Salieri in stir for life and then took a powder right after sending a blackmail note that was guaranteed to drive the aforementioned Prick into a frenzy. Which, of course, was just what I needed to push him into making a fatal mistake. Nope - never heard of him.............

She wasn't taking no for an answer and then, right in the middle of a sentence, I'm talking to Olivia..................belle of the ball, life of the party and Sams best friend she didn't know she had. Olivia's my own personal "dirty little secret" - Knows everyone who's anyone and tells me everything she hears - "C'mon Paul, she says, help her out......... but I can't - not this time or at least not yet. Not until I have my pound of flesh -

I took her hand and looked into her lovely eyes. "Olie", I said, " ya gotta trust me on this one - Sam can't know what I know about Tommy - not yet - but I'll get him to send her a note to calm her down. Meanwhile take good care of our Sammy and if you need me, you know where to find me. "

Then I left. I had work to do - damn Precinct can't function without the Loo right? .....................
 
Samantha (aka Olivia) hmmm

Trouble was brewing, and I knew that Paul wouldn't lead
dear Sammi down the garden path. Hmmm, how to let her
know.... clicking my nails on the table in front of me. Maybe
I just better seek out info on my own and leave yet another
anomynous note to my "other half" as it were. Sighing, I
watched that yummy despoiler leave Louis' and head for
God knows where. Poor guy, he probably thought he'd
seduced us all those years ago. (At least the first time)
Little did he know, I wanted him to be our first and he,
the poor helpless man was ... out of his league. Smiling,
inwardly, I set about re-braiding our hair and heading back
to the office to check on dear Agnes.

Tonight poor Sam was gonna sleep while I headed off to
the Lady, to see that delicious red-head behind the bar, steal
a few kisses and feel 'em out. (So to speak). Hmmm, I've
got that new slinky red number I've been wanting to wear.
slit up to our unmentionables as it were. Sam doesn't have
the heart to go into Pop's old office, if she did ever nose
around she'd find some absolutely fabulous clothes in his
closet. But...if she did, I'd just pop out and veer her away
from my lovely fashions. Poor thing, she just doesn't know
how to have any fun....well...she did surprise me and have
a really good time with Irving (the beat reporter with the
Tribune) on the sofa last night. Maybe, there's hope for her
yet. It is utterly exhausting having all that fun for the both
of us.................
 
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