Save The Lady - Part 1

It was a cold, wet day as he looked out the window of the AAA Detective Agency. He slowly sips a cup of bitter black coffee, as his percolator bubbles on his hotplate.

The City is grey and wet in the early morning light.

Ken Cooper’s shirt and pants are rumpled like they hadn’t ever seen an iron. “I could really use a client.” He says to himself.

His door opens and in walks his secretary Joan, carrying her own coffee mug. “Hey Boss, let me grab a cup of Java. Last night was a rough one.”

He nods and watches her hips sway back and forth in her pleated skirt.

“She’s a good broad, and easy on the eyes”, he thinks but frowns remembering that one night they tried it together. The minute they were in bed together, they knew it was a mistake and agreed never again.

“Help yourself, and tell me what happened.” He says as he sits in his chair, leans back, and puts his feet up on the desk. “She is sweet to look at.” He thinks.

“Me and Pete went to this joint, to hear some friends play. I told you he’s a musician, right?” she starts off, as he look from her bouncing breasts back up to her eyes. “The place was a dive, but there was a dance floor and we really cut a rug. His buddies were good but they were missing their canary, so the guys swapped who sang. It was OK, but we focused on drinking and dancing.”

He sipped his coffee again. “So, what made it such a rough night? Did you really tie one on?”

“No, that wasn’t it. When the guys finished, we went back to his place. Have I told you about his dingus? You wouldn’t believe it. When we finished, I was sore all over.” She said in an almost bragging tone.

Ken smiled, “I’m glad you had a good time. A dame like you deserves to go out with a guy like that.” He said in a playful tone.

Before she realized what he said, he tossed her two bits, “Run down to the Newsie and grab today’s paper. Maybe by the time you get back, a client will call.”

“OK, Boss.” She says as she leaves.

He smiles to himself and sips his coffee again. “A musician who is hung like a horse. Yep, that is just what she needs.”

The large rotary dial phone on his desk rings. He grabs it in a single smooth motion. “AAA Detective Agency. Ken Cooper speaking.”

The voice on the other end sounded like it was strained with sadness and emotion. “Mister, I hope you can help me. I don’t know who to turn to, and your name was the first one I found in the book.”

He smiles at that. He picked the name AAA, years ago, so it would be one of the first ones in the phone book. “I will do my best Ma’am. What can AAA do for you?” he says in his best professional tone.

She responds in rapid fire. “I’m Hillary Schmidt and I have been on the phone with the police all morning They tell me that I have to wait for her to be gone for a day before they will look for her Mr. Cooper she is a good girl and she wouldn’t go off without telling me.”

He sits up in his chair. “Slow down for a minute, Miss, ah, Schmidt. What is this all about? Who are you talking about?”

He hears her take a deep breath and then start again. “I’m Hillary Schmidt, and my sister Julie Schmidt is missing. She is a singer for a jazz band. When she has a performance, she leaves the house with a member of the band. She calls from the club when she arrives there. And when the show finishes, she calls me to tell me she is on her way home. Yesterday, I never heard her leave, and there were no phone calls at all last night. This morning, I checked her room and her bed was not slept in. That is when I called the police. They told me that because she was over 21 and only been gone for the night, we needed to wait until tomorrow before they would do anything.” She started crying again. “Can you help me, Mr. Cooper?”

He nods “Yes, Miss Schmidt, I will see what I can do. What is your address? Let me come by so you can tell me more details.”

“Yes. Thank you.” She tells him the address which he writes down on a steno pad on his desk. When he hangs up, he let out a slow whistle as he reads the address. The edge of the city where the wealthy have mansions and manors.

He finishes his coffee, grabs his hat and coat, and heads for the door. Joan is there. “I got your paper Boss. Where are you going?” she asks as she hands him the folded newspaper.

“You mentioned that the singer last night didn’t show. Do you know her name?”

She shakes her head. “Not really. I think it might be Judy or Julie or something like that.”

“Can you call your meat and see if he knows? We got a call from a Hillary Schmidt saying that her sister Julie, a jazz singer is missing. I am heading over there to see if I can find any leads.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

He shakes his head as he puts his hat on. “No, Joan. Stay here. Call your man or some of his friends. See what you can find. Here is where I will be.” He takes and copies down the address and phone number on a small message pad on her desk.

“Will do Boss.”

As he drives, he thinks about the address, the name Schmidt, and money. Then it hits him, Hillary and Julie are the heiresses to the Schmidt Grains fortune. A corporation that runs breweries, bakeries, and cereal processors, plus farms. This dame could definitely afford his fee.

He parks his big black sedan and gets out. The rain still coming down.

He quickly moves to the front door of the large manor house, and twists the brass door bell. Even through the thick wooden door he can hear the bell ringing. After a minute, a thin older man in a suit answers the door.

“May I be of service?” he asks as he holds it open and Ken steps inside, dripping water as he removes his trench coat.

“Yes, I’m Mr. Cooper. Miss Schmidt called my office. Is she available?”

The doorman holds out his hands, “Let me take your coat and hat.” He quickly hangs them on a free-standing coat rack by the door. “Please wait here. I will announce you.” And goes up the large staircase.

A moment later a short blonde woman descends the stairs, holding a handkerchief in one hand. “Thank you, Mr. Cooper. Please follow me to the parlor.” She says.

Sitting down in a carved wooden chair, Ken leans forward “Tell me what you can about your sister.”

She tells him how her sister Julie sang in church, had dreams of the big time, and was getting experience singing in jazz clubs around the city. She tells him that some clubs were better than others but the musicians all looked out for her. He asks her about the men in Julie’s life, to which she said she didn’t know of any, but then she leads him up to Julie’s room so he can look for any clues. 

The room was white and pink, like that of a little girl. He carefully searches her dresser and desk, looking for letters, notes, or a diary, but strikes out. Her closet is filled with gorgeous dresses, perfect for a singer on stage. Then he checks the hat boxes on the shelf. Inside of one he finds a stash of letters. Most look like kid stuff “I will love you forever” “We will marry someday” and so on. Then he looks at some of the dates. A few of these are recent. Some aren’t signed, but he finds a few signed by “Oscar”.

Hillary watches from the doorway.

“Do you know someone named ‘Oscar’?” he asks.

“Yes, of course. Oscar Huddler. He and Julie used to date. There had even been talk of them getting married at some point. But Julie wanted to be a star, and Oscar, well the less said about him the better.” She said turning away.

“What do you mean? What’s the deal with Oscar?” asks Ken.

“It was all over the society pages. Oscar’s father caught him stealing from the company and trying to make it look like it was his older brother Theodore. If it had only been the money, I think they would have forgiven him, but there were rumors that Oscar had photos of Theodore in bed with another man and was trying to blackmail them. When they didn’t give him the money, he tried to steal it. After that Mr. Huddler disowned Oscar and had him removed from the house. That was over a year ago.”

Ken scratched his head for a moment, thinking about the high society scandals he typically ignored. If Joan was here, she’d have the whole scoop, but it was good enough to know that two rich and powerful families might be involved. Schmidt Grains and Huddler Transportation. It they had married; it would have been the biggest merger in years.

“So, Hillary, where is Oscar now?”

“I haven’t heard. I see Theodore and his wife at social functions. I can call and ask them if they know anything?”

Taking the box of letters, he leaves the room. “Yea, call them. You can reach me at my office if you hear anything. I am going to go through these and see what I can find. Thanks Miss Schmidt.”

“Mr. Cooper, I think you are forgetting something. We forgot to discuss your fee.” Ken’s mind was already trying to figure out where Julie was, he wasn’t thinking about money. After a quick negotiation, they agreed to transportation expenses and a daily cost and a bonus for returning Julie home, safe and sound.

Once he is back in the office, he starts going through all of the letters, looking for the most recent ones. “Joan, what’s the wire on Oscar Huddler?”

“What do you mean? Oscar getting booted from his family and losing all his lettuce? Or him on the take from the Mob? Or his claim that his brother is a nance with a gunsel on the side?”

He looks up from the letters, “Wait, What? Was the mob tightening the screws on Oscar? Hillary told me that Oscar got kicked out, and something about Theodore being a daisy, but she didn’t drop anything about mob ties.”

“Pete says all the clubs are run by the mob, and sometimes they hear a little something. I think I’ve seen Oscar slugging back a few in some of the seedier dives.”

“Was Julie singing during those times?” He asks intently.

“The canary? I guess so. I don’t pay her no mind. If Pete’s on the band stand, I’m watching him. If he’s not playing, then he’s playing with me.”

His phone rings. Joan answers it “AAA Detective Agency. How can we help you? Oh, Miss Schmidt, he’s here. Hold on.” She says as she passes him the receiver.

He hears a voice crying on the other end. “Mr. Cooper? They kidnapped her. I just got a call. They want $20,000 or I’ll never see her. I have to give them the money at 8pm down at the docks.”

“It’s Okay, Hillary. We can do the hand off. I will have Joan come over and help you. Call me if you hear anything else.”

After hanging up, he looks at Joan. “I need to you go to the Schmidt’s and help Hillary get things ready for the ransom.”

She grabs her hat and purse, when Ken stops her for a second. “Do you know of a club down by the waterfront?”

“Yeah, there are a couple but they’re real dumps? Why?”

He holds up a letter. “He talks about his place down by the river, ‘The Wet Whistle’.” He folds the letter, puts it in his pocket. Reaches into his desk for his shoulder holstered .45 which he straps on. “I’m heading to the docks. You help Hillary, and hopefully we can wrap this up before she has to pass over the dough.”

(If you enjoyed Part 1, come back for Part 2 of “Save The Lady”. Also if you enjoyed it; leave me a Comment. This story was originally published on Kindle in Volume 3 of “The Collected Stories and Tales of Oli Trollgora”. If you really enjoy my writing, Follow and Subscribe.)