AAA Detective Story - Who's the Father - Part 7

 

Ken gets into his car and looks at his watch. It’s not even 6pm yet. Too early to go straight to the Coconut Club. But if he swings by the Palace Hotel, he might be able to deliver a message then go to the club.

Parking on the street, he walks into the lobby. He looks around and sees Frank Jackson, sitting in a chair, reading the evening paper.

“Is that what you do all day? Read the morning papers and then the evening ones? It must be such a tough job.” Ken says with a laugh.

“Oh, it is. Especially when I have to deal with mugs like you.” Franks says, laughing as he folds the paper and stands up. “Are you here to bother more of our residents?”

“Nothing of the sort. I just thought you might to know one of your ‘residents’ got pinched in a vice net.”

“So Mister Powell was sitting at the table when the cops showed up?”

“Frank, You didn’t hear it from me, but they raided a joint which also had young girls working. Girls being used.” Ken says as he lowers his voice.

“Are they going to hold him?”

“I really don’t know. But I think that if you see him return, you should recommend that he pack up and leave.”

“Why’s that?” Frank asks. “If he’s released shouldn’t I…”

“Given some of your other guests, do you really want someone who the cops are watching, living here?”

Frank thinks for a second and nods. “Okay, let me talk with the Manager.”

Ken extends his hand. “I will leave it up to you. As I said, you didn’t hear it from me. If you really want, you can call some of your friends downtown and get the real scoop.”

Frank shakes it. “I might. Are you going to hang around?”

Ken looks at his watch. “I can’t. I have another meeting.”

“Ok. See you around.”

“If I’m doing my job right, you won’t.” Ken says with a smile.

As he drives to the Coconut Club, Ken mutters to himself, “I can’t believe how quickly everyone believed that ‘Sugar Daddy’ was going to sell ‘Doll’. There was no real proof he did anything other than gamble and have sex with her. It is amazing how everyone jumped to conclusions, just like I wanted.”

As he gets out of the car, looks down at himself. “I probably should have gone home and changed.” His suit looks wrinkled, but the rumpled, hard-boiled detective look fits him.

He checks his coat and hat, smiling and winking at the girl. She smiles back but she probably does that to everyone, Ken thinks.

He finds a table not too close to the bandstand but not too far away. The band is doing its warmup set of a few swing dance standards. A waitress in a sleeveless shirt, short skirt, and nylons asks him what he wants. He was going to say a cup of coffee but then he realized he isn’t working so he says “Gimme a Cuba Libre.” She nods and comes back in a few minutes.

Joan comes from behind the bandstand, straightening her skirt, and sits down. “Boss, do you need me to sit in on this one?”

He takes a sip, enjoying the flavor of island rum, coke, and hint of lime. “No. But you can sit here until he arrives. So did Pete get his mouth warmed up?” He asks with a wink.

She smiles “You know it. He made my knees so wobbly I had to wait a bit before I came out.”

“I might have to ask him for some pointers.” He responds with a wicked grin.

A large man still wearing an overcoat walks up with Theodore Huddler trailing behind him. “Is you Mister Cooper?” the big palooka asks.

Ken notices the bulge in the jacket where a pistol is probably concealed.“Yes, I am, and this is my associate Miss Joan…”

Mister Huddler steps forward and interrupts. “I thought this meeting was to be just between us. Mister Cooper.”

Ken extends his hand, “Mister Huddler, it is. Joan was just keeping the chair warm for you. Please sit.” He then pulls a couple of bills from his pocket and says, “Joan, why don’t you go to the bar and wait as we talk.” She takes the money and slowly walks away. Her hips swaying in an exaggerated manner. The muscle looks at her for a moment and then to Teddy who nods and motions for him to follow her.

He then sits down without shaking Ken’s hand, and looks around for a moment.

“You know your business. The music is loud but not too loud for us to talk, we are off to the side, but not so it looks like we are hiding. Hillary was right, you know your business.”

The waitress walks up, “What can I get you?”

Theadore turns towards her, pulls a $10 bill from his money clip, “I will have a pina colada. And some privacy.”

She takes the money and nods. “I’ll be right back.”

Ken watches as she goes to the bar, and says something to the cigarette girl, who then whispers something to the busboy.

“You seem to know your business too, Mister Huddler. Should we wait for your drink or just start talking?”

Theodore leans forward, “I want to thank you for killing Oscar. I probably shouldn’t say that but Oscar always was trouble.”

Ken sips his drink. “You don’t need to thank me. He had kidnapped Julie, I was paid to rescue her. If he hadn’t pulled a gun, he’d still be alive.”

“I don’t think so, Mister Cooper, Oscar was already losing control. He wanted us to start carrying cargo that our family doesn’t associate with. I reminded him that, even though it could be profitable, there are other families who are already involved.”

Ken nods. “I understand. During the war, I encountered some of that. What did you do during the war, if I might ask.”

The waitress quietly brings the white frothy drink in a large hurricane glass, then wordlessly turns and leaves. Theodore sips it using the straw.

“I ran my family’s business. We lost so many drivers and trucks to the war effort, but we still had to maintain things moving stateside.”

Ken leans in, “Do you have trouble with the Teamsters? I heard that unions cause people like you big headaches.”

Teddy leans in, almost conspiratorially, “Really? Which people? Wealthy families or homosexuals?” He winks and then leans back sipping his drink.

Ken shakes his head slowly and smile. “You got me with that one, Mister Huddler. But seriously, do you have union troubles?”

Teddy shakes his head, “No. The demands made for drivers’ pay and work hours are all understandable. It is just good business to offer a living wage and hire good people. During the war, we hired who we could get, and when the war ended, we kept the good ones and let the other ones go.”

“Do ‘the good ones’ all look the same?” Ken asks in a roundabout way.

“If you are asking if we kept on or hired black and Spanish drivers, of course. We proudly hired some “Red Ball Express” veterans.” Teddy comments in an almost proud tone. “But we aren’t here to talk about my company’s labor practices, or why you killed Oscar. I want to know why you are following me and asking about my son.” He says as he sets down his glass and leans in.

Ken sets his highball glass down and runs his fingers though his hair. “It was a misunderstanding and a feeling. I looked at the photo of you in the paper a week or so ago and it didn’t sit right. I wasn’t working on a case, and I felt like there was something where there wasn’t. I’m sorry.”

“So why were you watching the penthouse at the Palace?”

“I was on a case. Your neighbor there was ‘wining and dining’ my client’s wife. I was just gathering info. While I was taking photos, I happened to notice you and your personal secretary. I called to mention that if I could see, then others, who might have something against you, could see too.”

Teddy leans back and sips his drink for a moment, thinking.

Before he can say anything, the lights go down and a spot light points to the stage, and Julie Schmidt moves to the center. Looking around at the faces in the club, she notices both Ken and Teddy at a side table. She nods toward them then whispers something to the band leader.

Turning towards the crowd again she says into the microphone, “Good Evening Ladies and Gentlemen. Thank you for coming out tonight to the Coconut club. The band and I are always happy to see everyone. Let me start off the night with something a little different.”

She steps off the stage, the spot following her as the band begins a version of “My Funny Valentine”. She sings without the microphone, but her clear full voice fills the club. “My Fun-ny Val-en-tine, Sweet Com-ic Val-en-tine….”

She walks from table to table, smiling and winking at the people seated there.

As she gets closer to Ken and Teddy she sings “Your looks are laugh-able….Un-photo-gra-ph-able…..Yet you’re my favor-ite work of art.” She reaches down, takes Kens drink, and sniffs it, hands it back, she then winks and blows a kiss to Teddy before turning and continuing to make her way around the club.

Ken watches her as she glides so effortlessly from table to table.

“She is a beauty to behold, Mister Cooper.” Teddy says as he watches her too.

“I didn’t think she was your type?”

“She isn’t, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t find her beautiful to watch and listen to. I may be gay but I’m not dead.”

She continues around and whispers something to the cigarette girl who nods and makes her way towards Ken and Teddy’s table.

When Julie takes the stage again, she says something to the band leader again. He nods in response and says something to the band.

She grabs the microphone and says “Ok, lets speed things up a bit.”

The drummer picks up the tempo and the horns start as she begins singing “Cuban Pete”.

“Mister Cooper and Mister Huddler” the cigarette girl says as she makes it to their table.

“Miss Julie said you might want to continue your talk in her dressing room. It’s much more private. Please follow me.” She walks towards the backstage.

Ken and Teddy grab their drinks and follow. Joan sees them moving. Ken nods for her to sit at their now empty table. She slowly nods and moves from the bar to the table. Ken notices the gunsel following her. Teddy nods and makes a hand motion for him sit and stay. So they both occupy the formerly empty table.

Once again Ken admires how sexy the cigarette girl is. She opens the door with a key. “Miss Julie said to relax. I can have a waitress check on you if you need.”

Teddy enters the room, “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.”

“I agree. By the way, what time do you get off?”

“I finish at closing time.” She says with a wink and a smile.

“If you want a bite to eat after work, I know great little all night diner.” Ken responds.

“Maybe Mister Cooper. Enjoy your night.” She says closing the door behind her.

Teddy is seated in a soft chair, leaving only the stool or the dressing bench. Ken opts for the stool.

“I wonder why she offered us her room?” Ken asks aloud.

Teddy sips his drink and sets it on the vanity. “She probably knows more about Oscar and my wife than I thought and wanted to give us privacy.”

Ken almost chokes on his drink. “Wait!, What? Is Oscar the father of your son?”

Teddy almost looks disgusted by the thought and says in a very serious tone. “No. I am his father.”

Ken looks perplexed. “Okay, Theodore, then back things up and help it make sense. What was between your wife and Oscar?”

Teddy sighs and sits back in the chair. “You already know that Oscar was trying to take control of the family business.”

Ken silently nods and listens.

“Our father stipulated that I, as the eldest son got the company. Oscar only got what I gave him. When he got involved in drugs and wanted to use our trucks and ships to ferry them around, I told him ‘No’ and I cut him out of the family.” Teddy looks at Ken for a response but seeing none, he continues. “One night he broke into our home and apparently found Karen alone in our bedroom. He was high on drugs and attacked her. He tried to rape her. I was in the study with Ramon when I heard her scream. I rushed into the room, pulled him off of her and had Joseph and Ramon throw him out.”

“Ramon is….”

“My private secretary. He is a wonder at taking care of my needs.” Teddy says in an almost wistful tone.

“Did you file a police report?”

“No. We increased the security around the house and made sure that Karen was never alone.”

“So how do you know that he isn’t the father?” Ken asks, taking a large sip of his drink.

“I stopped him before he entered her, if you must know. After that, Karen had me spend every night with her. She also wanted me to get her pregnant. She didn’t want Oscar to try again and maybe succeed.”

“Why was having a child so important?”

“According to my Will, unless I sell the company, control of it goes to my heirs. Oscar must have thought that if Karen was carrying his child, he could somehow be brought back into the family.” Teddy shakes his head in almost disbelief.

“So, you went to fulfill your husbandly duties to your wife, until you she was with child? What did Ramon and your other boy toys think about this?”

Teddy straightens up, “Mister Cooper, I don’t know what gossip you have heard, but aside from my wife, Ramon is the only one I am with. It is an arrangement that we have agreed to. We stay married to each other and we are each allowed one extra-marital partner.”

Ken finishes his drink and sets the empty glass on the vanity. “Ok, here is the $1,000 question. How do you know that Karen’s lover isn’t the father.”

Teddy breaks out into smile that grows into a full-throated laugh. “Mister Cooper. You are good at your job but not perfect. My lovely wife Karen has a lover, but there is no way that she can get pregnant by her.”

Ken stares for a moment. “Oh my God.” All the pieces fit together. Hillary and Karen. “Uncover things that we don’t want out.” He mutters.

“Mister Cooper, you are a very good detective. I would like to put you on retainer.” Teddy pulls out his money clip and places a $100 bill on the vanity.

Ken looks at the money, “Why? For what?”

Teddy takes his glass and finishes his drink. “You warned me about Ramon needing curtains. An unscrupulous man would have just taken photos and tried to blackmail me. You think like an agent and try to counter things. What is that radio program? ‘Counterspy’ or something like that? I want you hire you as my ‘counterspy’.”

“Mister Huddler, I don’t know anything about corporations or business espionage. That’s not my line of work.” He says looking at the money.

“Oh, I realize that.” Teddy says standing up and looking at his watch. “I need to go home. Tell Julie, thank you for allowing us to use the room. Keep the hundred dollars, call me tomorrow with your answer. Good night.” He says extending his hand, which Ken shakes.

“Good night.”

Ken sits on the stool for a moment, thinking about everything, as he reaches into his breast pocket for a cigarette. Before he can light it, he remembers that Julie doesn’t allow smoking in her dressing room.He gets up, grabs the empty glasses, and heads back into the club with the unlit fag still in his mouth. He sees Joan sitting alone, watching the band. “She must be watching Pete.” Ken mutters before he sits down.

“What did you say, Boss? Are you and Mister Huddler all done?”

He sets down the empty glasses and pulls the $100 bill from his pocket. Grabbing his lighter he lights his cigarette. Looking at the bill he says, “Joan, how would you like us to be on retainer to the Huddlers?”

“Is that what the C-Note is for?” she asks looking at the bill.

“I have to call him tomorrow with my answer.” He exhales a puff of smoke.

“It could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.” She says doing a bad Bogart impression.

“That it could. That it could.” He says.

(This was the final portion of “Who’s the Father”, a AAA Detective Agency Story. If you enjoyed this story, leave me a comment. For my usual readers, I apologize for the lack of graphic sex. I will do better next week and return to writing Erotica. If you prefer this to my usual erotic writings, tell me. If you have an idea of for another Erotic Tale, tell me that too. And of course, if you enjoy my writings, follow and subscribe.)

AAA Detective Story - Who's the Father - Part 6

Ken drives to the Fletcher’s apartment. It’s an old brownstone that probably used to belong to a single family before it was remodeled and subdivided to hold half a dozen families. He glances in his folder. Apartment 2B. The door to the building is open and he walks up the stairs to the second floor. The doors all have dull brass numbers on them. At 2B he stops and knocks. “Misses Fletcher?”

The door cracks open, a safety chain visible on the inside. “Yes? What do you want?”

“I’m Ken Cooper. You spoke with my secretary, Joan this morning. Can I come inside? Your husband hired me, but I want to talk to you first.” He says holding up the folder and tapping it with his fingers.

She starts to close the door saying “I don’t know what you are talking about. I just don’t feel well today, that’s why I didn’t go to work.”

Ken slides a photo of her and Marcus in the Palace lobby in the door crack. “Do you want your husband to see this, before we have a chance to talk?”

The door closes all the way. After a moment he hears the chain move and then she opens the door. She is wearing a bathrobe and looks like she has been crying.

“Please come in…Mister…”

“Cooper, Ken Cooper.”

She motions for him to sit on a kitchen chair. He glances around the apartment. It is small, as he suspected, but it has an electric range, an ice box, and a sink, right next to the bathtub. A curtain surrounds what is probably the toilet. A Murphy bed is tucked into the wall and there is a radio on the kitchen table. “A nice little place”, he thinks to himself.

“Would you like some coffee?” she asks in a nervous voice.

“No thank you. Please sit down.” He responds, placing the folder on the table and opening it.

She does, taking a hanky from her pocket and wiping her eyes. “So Robby hired you to follow me?” She then starts looking at the photos in the folder. Marcus and her at a café, in a diner, walking into a bar, going into what was probably a club or gaming hall, and of course her in the front seat, with just the top of her head as she was going down on him.

“Would you like to explain things? What I saw was a woman stepping out on her man with a high roller. That’s what I typed up. If you’d gone with Mister Powell, today, I would have handed this entire folder to your husband. I have two questions for you. Why didn’t you? And What do you want me to tell your husband? He is paying me for information.”

Ken leans back in the chair and pulls out a cigarette. Mary stands up and grabs a discolored glass ashtray from the counter and sets it on the table. There is still a butt in it with a faint lipstick smudge. “Thanks.” He says and flicks open his Zippo.

Looking through a small puff of smoke, Ken watches Mary compose herself. “To answer the first question, I didn’t go with Marcus because I was going to break it off. Your secretary stopped me this morning. She was that last little push I needed to stay.”

“Why’s that?” Ken asks taking a slow drag.

“Yesterday when Marcus was losing at cards, he took me to his place.” She says pointing to the photos of them leaving a warehouse and arriving at the Palace.

“Go on.”

“He said I was his “Lucky Charm” and if my luck wasn’t good, he was going to get lucky another way.”

Ken takes his notepad and pen from his coat. “Was this the first time?”

“First time in his apartment, yes. But not the first having sex with him.”

“Where was the first?”

She starts to tear up. She points to a photo of them walking into a cheap bar. “Here. He started losing, and took me to in back. He bent me over, pulled down my panties….” Tears stream down her face. Ken places his hand on hers. “It’s okay, I got the picture.”

She sniffs and dabs at her eyes. “When he was winning, he would celebrate, buy me nice things, and give me cash. But when he lost, he wanted sex.”

“Is that why he was sodomizing you in the car?” Ken asks.

“Doing what?” She asks confused.

Ken points to the photo of her sucking him in the sedan. “Him putting his schlong in your mouth.” She turns red with embarrassment. “Yes. He wanted me to do that again, but I told him that I don’t do that for my husband so I can’t do for him.”

“Is that when he smacked you?” Ken asks leaning back again.

She nods and puts her hand to her cheek, rubbing it. There aren’t any marks but the thought of it seems to be with her.

This continues on for a while. Ken asking her questions and Mary explaining. How she was let go because the cook’s cousin needed a job. That Marcus was a regular at the diner and liked how she looked. Offered to show her around. All she had to do was stand by him and look sexy. When his gambling luck changed, he wanted sex, but she didn’t want that.

Ken flips pages, adding note after note, with his burning cigarette in the corner of his mouth, then he asks, “So what shall we tell your husband?”

She slowly shakes her head. She looks more relaxed, almost relieved. Ken has seen it before, when someone has been holding on to a secret for too long and they just wanted to tell someone. “Mister Cooper, I don’t really know what to say. I love him. I don’t want to leave Robby. I just wanted to feel beautiful and get some cash.”

The phone on the wall rings, and Mary answers it. “Hello? Yes, he’s right here. It’s your office.”

He gets up and takes the receiver. “Yeah, whatcha got?”

He hears Joan’s voice, “Boss, your Flatfoot friend called. They appreciated the tip. Vice apparently raided both warehouses. One was a big game and the other was a joint full of girls wearing fancy rags and meeting with Johns. Boss, you broke up a Cathouse.”

“Do you know which was which?”

“Nah. Why? What’s it to ya?” Joan says in an offhand manner.

Ken smiles for a second. “Oh, just a hunch. Maybe High Roller was going to take Doll to the cathouse, earn a finder’s fee and then go to the game? I’ll talk to Brian. Thanks.” He hangs up the phone and sits back down, crushing out the smoldering butt in the ashtray.

Mary has a shocked look in her eyes as she understands what Ken was saying. “Mister Cooper. Is there any way you can tell Robby that I was helping the police? That when I lost my job, and Marcus picked me up, I knew there was something wrong and went to the police?”

He leans back in the chair again. “Maybe. What’s in it for me?’

She stands up and with trembling hands she opens her robe revealing her shapely body with only a cotton bra and panties. “Is this what you want?” She asks in a shaky tone with tears rolling down her cheeks.

Ken stands up and grabs her hands and sighs. “No That’s not what I meant.” He closes her robe. “Here, sit down.” He says, still holding on to her robe. “I have a reputation for being honest. How will it look if I lie to a client or cover up the truth?”

“What do you want from me?” she asks.

“I’ll tell Robert you were working with the police, but I want you, in your own time, to tell him the truth. Do you have an envelope?”

She gets up and pulls one from a drawer. Ken places the most damaging photos of her and Marcus in it, along with the folded up report. “Hold on to this. I need to make a phone call.”

He quickly dials up Sergeant Mulrooney. Mary listens as Ken says, “Hey Brian. You’re welcome. I’m glad that those tips paid off. Speaking of which, was there any reward? There was for finding some of the girls. White Slavery? Okay. Yeah, I want to split it with Misses Robert Fletcher. She was the one who gave it to me. Can you put in your report that she called you with the information? Yeah, she’s back with her husband and we want everything copacetic. Thanks. We’ll come down to the station tomorrow. See ya’ then.”

She dries her eyes with her handkerchief, “So your friend’ll add it to the report?”

“Yeah” he says as he hangs up the receiver. “Looks like there was a reward for some of the women they found. Some missing girls pushed in the flesh trade. I don’t know how much it’ll be, maybe a couple of C’s but…” He pulls another cigarette from the pack and lights it.

Mary realizes what he is saying. “So tomorrow I might get a hundred dollars or more from the police?”

He blows a cloud of smoke straight up, “Yeah. Tomorrow we can go down to the station together, and pick up your reward.”

She moves closer, her arms open to hug him, but Ken holds out his hand, “Missus Fletcher. I’m glad to see you’re grateful, but shouldn’t you get dressed before your husband comes home. It wouldn’t be right for Mister Fletcher to show up, and you’re still wearing only a robe.”

She looks at the clock by the stove. “You’re right. Give me a minute.”

She walks to the other side of the room and steps behind a decorative changing screen. Ken hears the sound of drawers being pulled open as she pulls out clothing from a bureau or highboy. He flips to a blank page in his note pad and starts writing a field report, detailing the story he will tell Robert when he arrives.

Glancing up, he sees the silhouette of Mary against the thin fabric of the changing screen. Her shapely body as she sits on a stool and pulls on stockings. He imagines what she really looks like behind the screen. How her body would feel, how she would taste, how good she would be as….he stops looking at her and focuses on what he needs to write. He sighs and puffs his cigarette. “Maybe I should have taken her up on her offer.” He says to himself in a low tone.

“What’s that Mister Cooper?” Mary asks. Ken looks up again and sees the outline of a dress slide down her body and cover her. He adjusts how he is sitting to help with the tightness of his slacks.

“I was just saying to myself, that your husband is a lucky man. You love him. What time’ll he get home?”

She steps from behind the screen, the back of her dress still unbuttoned. “He will be home in about an hour or so. Can you help me with the buttons?”

Ken sets the cigarette in the ashtray and comes over, deftly buttoning up her dress.

“There you go. Do you feel more comfortable?” He asks looking up and down, and admiring the house dress. Polka dot print, but it looks good on her.

“Thanks. Is there anything else you need from me? I should start dinner.”

“No. I’ll write up my report and wait for Robert. Whatcha gonna cook?” he asks, sitting back down.

“I’ll make spaghetti.” She says as she pulls out a couple of large pots and places them on the stove. “Shall I make enough for you too?”

“No thanks. Once your husband arrives, I’ll give him a quick report and then I have another meeting to get to.”

Ken focuses on his report. Making it look like a miniature version of a typed report, except for changing it to better reflect the ‘Mary was suspicious and reported to the police’ storyline.

The small apartment soon fills with the smell of tomato sauce and spices. Mary takes out a skillet and fries up meatballs to add to the sauce.

“Missus Fletcher, can I have a glass of water?” Ken asks trying not to think about how good the food smells.

“Of course.” She says as she takes a glass and fills it from a pitcher from the icebox.

The cold water tastes so good as he sips it.

The door opens and Mister Fletcher walks in. “That smells wonderful.” He says before he notices Ken sitting at the table.

Mary rushes up and hugs him before he can remove his coat or set down his lunch-pail. “Robbie. I’m so glad you’re home.” She says squeezing him firmly and kissing him.

He drops his lunch-pail, and it clangs on the floor as he kisses her back.

“What’s that for?” he asks.

“I just missed you all day. I wasn’t feeling well this morning, Robbie, but once I felt better I just wanted to be in your arms.”

He unbuttons his coat, and nods towards Ken. “What’s he doing here?”

Ken stands up. “I’m sorry about this Mister Fletcher, but there was a change in the case and I wanted to deliver my information directly.”

Robert looks from Ken to Mary and back again. “Did you tell her I hired you?”

Ken tears the report pages from his notebook and hands them to Robert. He then gives an official sounding oral version of the report. “Mister Fletcher, your wife was seeing another man, but it wasn’t what you thought. Mister Marcus Powell was a customer at the diner and propositioned her. She thought there was something strange about him and went to the police. They asked her to continue meeting with him until she got a tip they could act upon. She fed information to the cops about a number illicit gaming establishments including one that turned out to also have prostitutes. The police discovered that some girls were missing persons. For her hard work she has earned a reward from the police, which she will be able to get tomorrow.”

Robert looks at the pages in his hands, quickly reading Ken’s notes of dates and locations, then footnotes of information given to the police. Ken then takes the folder off of the table does a quick scan of the photos and logs, ensuring that he hadn’t missed any of the incriminating ones, then hands it to Robert. “Here are the field notes and photos. The various clubs and cafés, and even his hotel, where he pressured your wife into breaking her marriage vows.”

Ken looks over to Mary, and gives a slight nod.

“Yes. Yesterday was the day I knew I couldn’t do it anymore. The police had what they needed and Marcus wanted me to…” She then puts her hand to her mouth and starts crying.

“You have a brave wife, Robert. I don’t think the police fully understood the danger she had been in.” Ken continues. “Apparently if she had met with Mister Powell today, she might have been sold to a white slavery ring.”

“Where is this Mister Powell?” Robert asks, clenching his fists.

“He is in police custody. He was rounded up with his companions during a raid. All thanks to your wife.”

Robert hugs and kisses Mary again. “Oh, my brave girl. I’m sorry I thought you were cheating on me. If you had told me, I wouldn’t have hired Mister Cooper to follow you.”

She kisses Robert again. “The police told me to not tell anyone. Especially my husband. I had to look like I was cheating on you, so Marcus would take me to all those places.”

The sauce on the stove starts to bubble. “Let me stir the sauce. Dinner is almost ready.”

“I could smell it from the street. I’m hungry.”

Ken grabs his coat and hat. “Mister Fletcher. I hope you are satisfied. That closes this case. If you need my services again, just call. You folks enjoy your dinner.”

Closing the door behind him, Ken thinks “She is a clever girl. She rolled into the story details about why the police wanted her to keep seeing him. Hopefully she tells the truth to her husband someday.”

(If you enjoyed this story, leave me a comment. Remember to return tomorrow for Part 7. If you enjoy my writings, follow and subscribe.)

AAA Detective Story - Who's the Father - Part 5

 

The sky is still dark and the wind is cold again. Ken drives to the Gulstead building with his bag in the front seat. Binoculars, instant camera, notepad, and a Stanley full of hot coffee. Parking on a side street, he grabs the bag and slings it over his shoulder. When he enters the building, a man at the front desk asks. “Good morning, Sir. Can I help you? None of the offices are open until 8 am.”

Ken pulls the camera from his bag. “The elevator guy yesterday said I should come back and watch the sunrise from the observation deck.”

The man at the desk stands up. “Can I see what else is in the bag?”

Ken smiles and holds it open. The guy glances in and nods.

“Ok. Let me ring the elevator.” He says as he returns to his desk, picking up the phone.

“Hey Jimmy. Yes I know what time it is. Did you tell some guy to watch the sunrise? I don’t care. The deal with you living in the building is being on call. I don’t care what you wear. Ok.” He hangs up, and points to a chair in the lobby. “Why don’t you take a seat. The elevator will be down shortly.”

Ken smiles, sits and then pours a cup from the Stanley. He gets just a sip when he sees the dial above the elevator door moving. The doors open and a kid wearing a nightshirt and hat is standing inside. Gulping down the hot coffee, Ken screws the top back on the bottle. “Good Morning. I’m sorry to wake you. But I thought I would take you up on your suggestion.”

“It’s okay Sir. Please step inside and we’ll go to the observation deck.”

Ken is pleased his plan is working, but he feels bad for the kid.

“Here’s your stop sir. Observation deck is to the right.”

“Thank you.” Ken says, pulling out a couple of bills and handing them to the kid. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be here a while.”

The kid pockets the bills and smiles. “Thank you, sir. Take all the time you need.”

On the observation deck, the wind is cold. Ken slips on his gloves, and looks around. Holding the binoculars up, he scans the horizon. The Palace Hotel is dark. He checks his watch. It’s a little after 6. He sits down on one of the benches, and unscrews the Stanley. He sips the coffee as he watches the Eastern sky lighten.

As the sun slow rises on the skyline, he sees lights come on in the Palace. Not in the penthouse suites yet, but maybe soon.

Finally he sees the lights in what should be 1104. A shadow moves back and forth. Through the binoculars, he sees “Sugar Daddy” wearing only a pair of boxers, going from bedroom to the bathroom. A couple of minutes later, he walks out of view, still wearing only boxers.

The lights come on next door. A young man gets out of bed and is fully naked. “I might tell Huddler to invest in a set of curtains for his secretary’s penthouse.” The young man appears to be alone as he walks around, his dingus swaying back and forth. “Damn, it’s a good thing he uses that on guys. It would ruin women for the rest of us.”

Looking back at Powell’s room, he watches as he changes and gets dressed. Glancing down at his watch, Ken wonders, “Why is he getting dressed so early? It’s a little after 7, and he’s….” Then it hits him. “Yes, he is going to get dressed, get into his car, and pick up Doll. She’s probably already in her waitress get up, and heading to the “bus stop”.” Ken snaps a couple of photos. They really don’t show much. But they give a good idea of where things happen. Throwing everything back in his bag he buzzes the elevator. If he can get to his car, maybe he can follow him.

“Did you enjoy the sunrise?” the kid asks, this time dressed in his elevator operator uniform.

“It was everything you said. Here.” And he hands him another dollar.

“Gee Thanks Mister. If you ever need any help, here in the building, ask for Jimmy.”

“I’ll remember that.” Ken tips his hat as he steps into lobby.

In a couple of minutes, he drives around the streets surrounding the Palace, until he sees a sedan he recognizes. He then parks and watches.

Mister Powell climbs into his car and pulls out onto the street. Ken follows behind.

Luckily at this time in the morning, you have delivery trucks but not much else in the way of traffic. Ken uses that to his advantage, keeping a few car lengths back. That and he knows where they are going so having the sedan leave his sight, isn’t too big of a worry.

Soon they are near the bus stop. Ken parks and watches. Mister Powell drives to the stand, stops, looks around, and then does another loop around the block. Ken watches him do this four times before he drives away.

“Knock. Knock” Joan taps on the passenger side before Ken can put it into gear and follow Powell. She climbs in with a folder in her hand. “Hey Boss. I did like we said. I talked to Mary Fletcher”

Ken puts the car back into neutral. “What’d she say?”

“Let’s go back to the office. I’ll tell you on the way.”

Joan explains that Mary had lost her job. “The diner replaced her with some relative of the cook. She was feeling ugly and unwanted, when a regular customer of her’s offered to dress her up to the Nines, take her out, and all she had to do was look pretty. They went from game to game, with her as his “lucky charm”. When he won, he bought her nice things. When he lost, she had to have sex with him.”

“Ok, so why didn’t she show up at the bus stop today?” Ken asks as they park at their office building.

“She said she loves her husband. She doesn’t want to hurt Robby. He works so hard and just never seems to get ahead. That’s why she was waitressing, to make extra scratch for them.”

“So can she just walk away?” Ken asks as they enter the office.

Joan hangs up her coat and hat, then lays the file on the desk. “That’s what I wanna talk to you about, Boss. She wants back to her old life. Schtuping Marcus yesterday wasn’t her idea. He apparently lost big yesterday and’ll try to make it up today.”

“Did she say where the game is?” Ken ask as he pours the last of his Stanley into his old mug.

“Do ya got more of that for me?” Joan asks nodding at his cup.

“Sorry.” He shakes the empty vacuum bottle. “You were saying about the game?”

“Oh yeah. There is a warehouse down off the highway. She said it was Acme Trucking, or was it Ace Trucking? There is a big stakes poker game according to her.”

Ken sits in his chair and sips his coffee. It’s half past 8.

Joan fills the percolator and puts it on the hotplate. “Boss, can we do something to help?”

“Let’s wait a bit. I’ll make a phone call. Later, we can visit the Fletchers. Remember Robert is paying for our information.”

“But Boss, that’ll ruin their marriage.” Joan says in almost a whine.

“I got a plan.” He says turning in his chair, so he looks at the city, with the morning sun creating long shadows with the buildings.

Ken calls Sergeant Mulrooney, “Brian. You mentioned something about Vice doing gambling raids? There is supposed to be big poker game at the warehouse of either Acme Trucking or Ace Trucking. Yeah, I know the lead is slim. It involves Mr. Powell. Thanks. Call me once you hear something.”

“So what did he say, Boss?” Joan asks, sitting on the edge of her chair.

“He said, he’d pass the info on to Vice. If they netted anyone during a raid, he’d call us.”

“What happens if they do?”

“I’ll call in a few favors, go down, talk with Mister Powell, and suggest he find a different city where his luck might go farther. His lucky charm wants to go back to her husband, and he should cut his losses and go.”

“Will it work, Boss?”

“We’ll see.” He then calls the operator, and a female voice answers. “How can I help you?”

“Can you please connect me to the Huddler residence?”

“Yes, sir. Give me a moment, and what is your name?” she asks.

After answering her, he hears the phone ring and a voice answer, “Huddler Residence.”

“Yes, sir, this is the phone company, you have a call from a Mister Ken Cooper. Shall I put it through?”

“Yes, Ma’am. Thank you.”

The operator leaves the line, and Ken says “Joseph. Can you please pass on a message to Mister Huddler?”

“Of course, sir.”

“His personal secretary should put up curtains in the penthouse apartment at the Palace.”

Ken says in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Mister Cooper. Please wait a minute.” Joseph says after a pause.

Then an unfamiliar voice comes on. “Detective Cooper. I think we should talk in person.”

“Mister Huddler?”

“I don’t want to talk on the phone. Is there someplace we can meet later?”

Ken thinks about it. “If you want to wait until 7 or 8 tonight, we can meet at the Coconut Club. That is a public place but loud enough we can talk.”

“I know the place. I’ll meet you there at 7:30.” And then he hangs up.

Ken stares at the receiver.

“What is it, Boss?” Joan asks.

Placing it in the cradle he says, “I think Teddy Huddler wants to meet me at the Coconut Club tonight. Is the band still playing there?”

“Yeah boss, they have a steady gig there the rest of the month.” She says with a hint of pride in her voice.

“Then I will probably see you there tonight.” He looks at the clock. It’s almost 10am.

“I wish we would hear something from Mulrooney. Do you think Misses Fletcher will still be at home?” He grabs the folder with the pictures and reports.

“She should be, Boss. What’ya thinking?”

He copies the phone number for the Fletchers on his note pad and gives it to her.

“If Mulrooney or Vice call, take the message and call me at the Fletcher’s. I want to talk to Mary.”

“OK” she says, and then cleans out the coffee pot.

(If you enjoyed this story, leave me a comment. Remember to return tomorrow for Part 6. If you enjoy my writings, follow and subscribe.)

AAA Detective Story - Who's the Father - Part 4

 

Ken got a new case. A working stiff, Mr. Robert Fletcher, was convinced his Ol’ Lady is stepping out on him. He follows her and finds she has a “Sugar Daddy”. Ken is never happy to take these kinds of jobs but the guy is paying, so he tracks her for almost a week. He carries his Land camera and snaps pics every time he can.

It starts off simple enough. She tells her hubby she is going to work. A waitress at a greasy spoon. But following her, Ken finds out she was fired and is getting picked up by some guy. They go to cafés, hooch joints, and card dens. He gifts her with lace and nylons. She changes out of her waitress getup and dresses to the nines for her new man, like she is his “Doll”. Ken does his best to keep back, and just take notes. He knows that if he takes photos from too far away, they wouldn’t show anything and if he’s too close, the game will be up. The cafes and bars are easy to follow them, but it’s harder to follow them into a game. Regardless of where they go, around 4, she changes back into her waitress uniform and he drops her off at the bus stop near her house. By the time her old man gets home, she has dinner started and is back being the ‘happy housewife’. Any lettuce she has from her Sugar Daddy, she passes off as tips from work.

He doesn’t recognize the Sugar Daddy. He apparently has lots of scratch to spread around, but Ken is never really good about knowing all of the high rollers in town. He might be a Sharper, or a Butter and Egg man. Ken just hopes he’s not running number and carrying the poke for one of the Mobs.

One early afternoon, they leave a game being held in a warehouse. Sugar Daddy has Doll in tow, as they get into his sedan. He looks unhappy and she looks a little nervous. They drive a few blocks and park in an alley. Ken follows behind and uses his binoculars to watch. They are talking, and she is shaking her head. He smacks her. She rubs her cheek and looks around. Then Ken watches as her head bobs up and down in the guys lap. He can’t get a good view. The guy can’t be too big, because she is taking him all the way in her mouth. Or maybe he’s hung like Pete, and Doll has a very talented mouth? Ken tries to take a few snaps, but can’t really see anything clearly. After a few minutes she sits up, and wipes her mouth with a hankie from her purse. She then changes from her dress, back into her waitress outfit. They are done for the day. This guy was being cagy and careful.

Ken finally lucks out one day when at lunchtime they leave another game and go to a hotel. It is a snazzy place, the Palace Hotel. He watches Sugar Daddy and his Doll, take a key from the front desk and make for the elevator. Ken quickly snaps a couple of shots.

He hears a voice behind him. “Whatcha think ya’ doin’, Bub.”

Ken stops, turns, and smiles. It’s the House Dick. Frank Jackson had been a cop but found that he could make more money working at the Palace, paid to keep the peace, and paid to keep quiet.

“Hiya Frank. How’s tricks?” Ken says extending his hand.

Frank shakes it. “I’m okay, but I’d be better if I knew what you were doing.”

“I’m working. The doll who just went upstairs with the high roller, has an old man who’s busy at work all day. He suspects she’s cheating on him. I’m just getting proof.” Ken folds up the camera and puts it in a shoulder bag.

“Hey Ken, I don’t want no trouble here. Maybe you should get outta here.” Frank says, puffing out his chest.

“Easy, pal. It’s not like that. I just want to make sure I got the full story before I go back to the client with proof. Can you help me with a few things?” Ken says as he pulls out a few bills and slips them to Frank.

“Give me another double sawbuck, and I’ll see what I can do.”

Ken pulls out his money clip, pulls a 20 from the center of the fold. “Ok, what do you have?”

Frank leads Ken to the Front Desk. “Alice, gimme the register.”

A thin, but cute brunette reaches under the counter and pulls out the large book.

“Anything for you Frank.” She says with a smile and a wink.

Frank opens it, flips a few pages, then points to a signature. Marcus Powell — Room 1104.

Ken jots it down. “Thanks. Is there any chance I can see what’s going on in 1104?”

Frank closes the book and gives it back to Alice.

“Ken, I can’t let you up. But I can’t control what ya’ do outside of the Palace. Eleventh floor are penthouse suites. 1104 is on the East side. Ya’ might be able to see somethin’, if you understand me.”

“Thanks. By the way, Frank, what do you know about this Powell character? Is he legit, or tied to a mob?”

“That I don’t know. He’s quiet, pays for his suite on time, and up until recently hadn’t been taking anyone up. What’s the deal with the frail, how did she hook up with him?”

“Her husband said she had been working in a hash house, but I found she was let go. What has her husband suspicious is she’s always tired and always has a headache in bed too. That’s when he asked me to snoop.” Ken says reaching into his pocket for a cigarette. He lights it and takes a deep drag, blowing a cloud in the air. “I don’t know how they met, but Sugar Daddy seems to be taking care of her during the day, and sending her home after.”

Franks shakes his head. “That’s a nasty business. Sounds like a Dear John, in the making.”

“Yeah, hate to break my client’s heart, but none of this looks good. By the way, Who owns the other suites?”

Frank shakes his head again. “Nope. That will cost ya’ more than ya’ got. Let’s just say the city’s best and brightest have rooms here. Ya’ come back with another case, and maybe I’ll help.”

“Okay, it was worth a try.” Ken says extending his hand.

“Be careful, I would hate to call the flatfoots on ya’ for being a peeping tom.” Shaking his hand.

“See you around.”

Ken heads back to his office. He needs to make a phone call. Picking up, he dials the Police, “Sergeant Mulrooney Please, Tell him it’s Ken Cooper.”

After a few minutes, he hears “Mulrooney.”

“Brian, its Ken. What’s the skinny on a guy named ‘Marcus Powell’?”

“Kenny, Now what causes you to be asking me about him? You aren’t in any trouble are you.?”

“No, Brian, it’s nothing like that. I’m working a case and the babe he’s seeing is the wife of my client.”

“Oh. So, he’s a homewrecker is he. That makes sense. He’s a high roller. Making from game to game we hear. I don’t think he is a sharper or anything, but just a man who like risk and to press the odds.”

“Is he mobbed up? Whose toes am I stepping on if I keep trailing the skirt?” Ken asks as he jots down some notes in his book.

“Kenny, I hadn’t heard anything about him being with any of the families, just that his name has been mentioned as Vice shut down a few unlicensed games.”

“Thanks Brian. I owe you. Next time I see you, I’ll get you a shot and a beer.”

As Ken hangs up the phone he looks at the clock. It’s mid-afternoon. Sugar Daddy and his Doll will be finishing up and dropping her back home soon. He makes sure he has his binoculars in his bag and drives back towards the Palace Hotel.

When the Palace was built, it was one of the tallest buildings in the area. But that was last century, and a few places have sprung up that are taller. He looks for one on the East side. The Gulstead Building, a high rise with offices, apartments, and an observation area.

“Yeah, that might just be the ticket” Ken thinks to himself as he parks and takes the elevator to the deck.

Walking around, he sees a few tourists using their Brownies to snap shots of the skyline. He walks around looking for the best angle, if there is one.

He looks over to the Palace. Lifting his binoculars, he focuses on the eastern side of the building. The Penthouse suites have balconies, terraces, and large windows. Those are worth a pretty penny. He guesses which one will be 1104. They don’t have curtains, but the rooms look empty. The only sign that they had been there is the bed is unmade. He snaps a photo, so he knows which hotel room to look at next time.

In the suite next to it, he notices some motion.

Setting his camera down, he looks though the binoculars again. He sees two men, and older and a younger one, hugging, and then getting undressed. “Looks like a pansy show is about to start.” He chuckles to himself, about to look away, when he gets a good look at one of the men. Theodore Huddler. “This got more interesting.”

He watches as the older man presses the younger man to his knees. From the angle of the observation deck, Ken gets a clear view of the younger man licking and sucking off his boss. He wishes he had a camera with a telephoto lens. But then he looks away. “Dammit. What does this prove? I already know that Teddy and his friend are together. Karen and Hillary told me as much.” He says to himself as he packs up his binoculars. “I need to focus on the case I have and stop wasting time on Fruit Basket Detail.”

As he rides down the elevator, he shakes his head and smiles. “That’s all it is.” He says aloud. The elevator operator looks at him. “Excuse me Sir?”

“Nothing. The observation deck has a wonderful view.” He responds holding up his binoculars and patting his camera bag.

“Yes. Sir. You should return at sunrise and sunset. The view is exquisite.”

“Thank you. I will keep that in mind. See you around.” Ken says adjusting his fedora as he walks across the lobby. 

Sitting inside his car he lights up a cigarette and laughs. “That is what has been bothering me about the Huddlers, it reminds me of doing the Fruit Basket detail. I got to keep my head focused. I’m not working for the Provost Marshal. I don’t care who sleeps with who, unless I’m paid to. I already have a client.” He puts the car into gear and drives to the office.

For the next few hours, he writes up a report. The only thing that it’s missing is photos or a description of Sugar Daddy and Doll together in bed. He might have to go up to the observation deck one more time and see if he can get lucky.

Joan comes over, looking at the photos on the desk. “Hey Boss, what’s with the pics of the Palace Hotel? Good shots, but…”

“Yeah, they only show an empty bed. I need to go back tomorrow and see if I can catch ’em. But I also have to be sure I have the right room.” He shows her the photo he took in the lobby of them getting into the elevator. “That’s what I’m writing up in the report for the client. Mr. Marcus Powell has a penthouse suite, room 1104. He is apparently entertaining our client’s wife there. Or has at least moved up to taking her there instead of in his sedan.” Ken comments as he points to a photo of a man sitting in a car, with possibly a woman’s head in his lap.

“Gee Boss, that’s gonna break Mr. Fletcher’s heart.” She responds in a sad tone.

“Give him Richard’s number. He’s a good shyster. Should be able to help with the divorce.”

“OK Boss. But couldn’t you let me talk to her, woman to woman first? Maybe it’s just a fling? Maybe she a Catholic?”

He smiles a second at that, remembering how some Italian wives cheating on their husbands, during the war, would have only oral or anal sex because it wasn’t violating their sacred vows. “Maybe she’s into sodomy. Okay, tomorrow morning, when she is supposed to go to work, why don’t you talk to her.”

“Where will you be?”

“I think I’ll watch the sun rise from the Gulstead Building.”

(If you enjoyed this story, leave me a comment. Remember to return tomorrow for Part 5. If you enjoy my writings, follow and subscribe.)

AAA Detective Story - Who's the Father - Part 3

 

That next morning, he calls Hillary Schmidt. Her man answers the phone. “Schmidt Residence.”

“Hello, this is Ken Cooper, from AAA Detective Agency. May I speak with Miss Hillary Schmidt?” he says in his most professional tone.

“May I inquire what this is about Mr. Cooper?”

“Yeah, I mean Yes. It concerns Mr. and Mrs. Huddler and their new son.”

After a moment, he hears Hillary’s voice.

“Thank you, I will take it from here….” She says in a soft tone to her butler. “Mr. Cooper, it is always a pleasure to hear from you. Julie mentioned that she saw you, before the show, last night. What can I do to help you?”

“What can you tell me about Mr. and Mrs. Huddler and their baby? Let me get to the point, do you think Theodore is the father?”

The phone line was just static silent for a few minutes, then Hillary clears her throat.

“Mr. Cooper, I don’t know what this is all about, but I think you should come here. We can sit in my parlor and talk. Shall I have some tea prepared?”

“That will work, Miss Schmidt. But I really prefer coffee.”

“French, Vienna, or Italian roast? Or would you just prefer the local blend with cream and sugar? Never mind, you can tell me when you get here. See you shortly Mr. Cooper.”

“Thank you, Miss Schmidt.” He says as he hangs up the phone. Ken held on to the article from yesterday’s paper, so he folds it up and puts it in his breast pocket, before grabbing his hat and coat.

“Joan, I’m going out. If you need me, ring me at the Schmidt’s.” He says without waiting for a response.

Driving to the Schmidt estate this time was much better. The cold but clear day was much nicer than the rainy weather last time.

Once again, he was twisting the brass door bell, which is quickly answered by the butler. “Mr. Cooper, please come in.” he says, holding the door open.

Ken removes his hat and coat, hanging them up on the free-standing coat rack by the door. Then the manservant leads him to the parlor.

Hillary is sitting at a small table with a tea pot on it as she sips from a delicate china cup. “Ah, Mister Cooper, Please sit down. Charles, please get the cup of espresso from the kitchen.” She says to the butler.

“Thank you, Miss Schmidt. I have a few questions that your sister told me you were better equipped to answer than her.” He says as he pulls out the folded new article, a note pad, and pen from his pocket.

“I will tell you what I can, but first have a finger sandwich, and your drink.” She says pushing a small plate with tiny sandwiches towards him.

A saucer with a small cup arrives. It smells dark and rich, and he takes a sip. Memories of sitting in a café in a small Italian village fills his mind for a moment.

“It is real espresso. How did you know?” he asks and takes another sip.

“I called your secretary and asked her how you take your coffee, and she mentioned espresso. We have a machine in the kitchen for special occasions.”

The butler closes the door to the parlor as he leaves.

“Now, Mister Cooper, You said you had some questions about the Huddlers and their son.

What can I tell you?”

Ken sets down the cup, and unfolds the new article. Pointing to the photo, “Who is the father of the baby?”

“That is direct and right to the point. According to the article you are showing, Theodore is the father. Do you have any reason to suspect otherwise?” She asks taking another sip of her tea.

“Months ago, you mentioned something about Oscar trying to put the screws on Theodore because he was a pansy and Oscar needed money or something like that. How did you know, and what more can you tell me?”

“It was a sordid affair. I only told you some of it to help you find Julie.”

Ken leans forward and points to Theodore in the photo. “This is not the face of a ‘proud papa.’ That is the face of a man who is behind the Eight Ball. Should I go directly to him and ask what’s going on, or can you tell me enough to show me I’m chasing the wrong car?”

She takes a deep drink of her tea and sets down the empty cup. “I have known Karen for many years. I should tell you, ‘You are wrong.’ ‘There is nothing.’ ‘It’s just a bad photo of Teddy’ or some such. But I have kept tabs on you since you brought back Julie. You have a reputation for being a dogged investigator. And I am afraid that if I turned you away, you would uncover things that we don’t want out.” She refills her cup and leans back in her chair.

After a moment she continues. “I only know about the trouble with Oscar and Teddy because Karen wanted my advice. Her husband loves her but Teddy just isn’t affectionate in a way that a husband should be.”

“I thought all of you folks had arranged marriages, and it was all for money and power. Love wasn’t a factor.” Ken says leaning back, holding his cup.

“Oh, for some families that is the case. My father wanted either me or Julie to marry one of the families. I might still someday. But Karen and I met in school. She wasn’t from one of the families. Her parents worked hard to have her attend a finishing school to attract the right kind of man, and she did. Teddy, was at the prep school and they met at one of the few co-ed dances between the schools. He is a kind and gentile man, and provides everything that Karen requires. He is just not a physical man. Do you know what I mean?”

“I think I do. I heard rumors that he keeps a gaycat with him. Maybe a personal secretary or butler?”

She sighs and pauses. “According to Karen, yes, Teddy prefers to spend time with men. There is a young man who accompanies him when he travels and is said to keep his personal calendar. Karen once caught them together in his study, doing an act that not even a husband and wife should do.” The cup in her hand shakes for a second as she sets it on the saucer. “Karen was very upset and made them promise to never do anything similar in the house again.”

“So that is what Oscar was threatening his brother with? Revealing him to be a nance and a queer?”

“Yes. But apparently Teddy, did the right thing, and father an heir. Shortly before Julie was kidnapped, he and Karen began having marital congress, resulting in her pregnancy.” Hillary explained with a slight quiver to her voice.

“Miss Schmidt, can you call over and introduce me to the Huddlers? I still feel like there is a missing piece to all of this.” Ken said, finishing his cup and gathering up his unused notepad and pen. He then refolds the article and pockets it.

Hillary sighed and then stood. “Yes, please follow me.”

They go from the parlor to the study. A phone is on the desk along with a number of books and ledgers. Ken silently glances at the covers, thinking that Miss Schmidt might be more active in her family’s companies, than he thought. A little piece of information to store away for the future.

She picks up the receiver and dials a number directly from memory. “Hello. Yes, this is Miss Schmidt, please tell Misses Huddler I need to speak with her. Yes, I will wait.”

Ken reaches into to his breast pocket and fishes out a cigarette. “Do you mind if I smoke?”

She frowns, and points to the spotlessly clean ashtray on the desk. “If you must, but please use the ashtray.” Then the tone of her voice changes and she almost sounds like a teen, “Karrie, its Hills. How is the baby? Good, glad to hear it. I’ll come over soon.”

Ken lights up his cigarette, and then Hillary’s voice gets a more formal tone again. “Karen, do you remember that Detective I hired to find Julie a couple of seasons ago? Yes, that one. He is here asking some uncomfortable questions. I told him some of what I know, but I think it would be better for you to talk to him.”

She then turns away from him and covers the mouthpiece, the tone of her voice drops, but it sounds like, “I miss you too. We knew the baby ……… Maybe we can spend time ………. summer home on the lake. Just us girls…… yes, like in the old days.” She stops and listens for a few minutes. Then turns towards Ken, “Very good. I will send him over to you. He is a very good investigator. He might help. Okay, Love you.” She then hangs up the phone. Taking a pencil from a cup on the desk she writes down an address on a note pad and hands the sheet to him. “I don’t know if you know their address, but here it is. You are expected. Karen said that she will answer your questions, but do not upset my friend. With a call I can have your license pulled.” She says in a dark tone.

Glancing down at the address, “Miss Schmidt, I don’t doubt you on that. Thanks. I’ll tread as carefully as I can. You’ve been a help.”

Grabbing his coat and hat, he drives to the address on the note. He really didn’t need it.

From time to time he drives out to this end of town to familiarize himself with which mansions are out here. You need to know where the scratch is, to earn it.

In a short time, he pulls up to another beautiful estate. The large brass sign reads “Huddler” and the scrollwork on the gates has a large decorative H. The front door has a large knocker.

A black doorman responds “Mr. Cooper I presume.” Ken pulls out one of his cards and hands it to him. “AAA Detective Agency, Mr. Ken Cooper. Very well, follow me.”

Once again, his hat and coat are removed and hung near the door, and he is led to a nursery, where a nurse in a white uniform is tending a child and an attractive but recently pregnant woman is sitting in a rocking chair.

“Miss Karen, here is Mr. Cooper.” The butler says as he hands her the business card.

“Thank you, Joseph, that will be all.” She says. Then she stands up, “Maddie, Mr. Cooper and I will go to the library. Come and get me if you need anything.”

She moves with the unsteady gate of someone who is still recovering. She is cute and attractive, even with her belly. Ken extends his arm. “Do you need a hand, Misses Huddler?”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” She says “The pregnancy was more difficult than people tell you.”

In the library, she sits down in a large leather chair and motions to a wooden stool. “Please close the door and sit.”

Ken mounts the stool and pulls the news article from his pocket. “Congratulations on the birth of your son.” He hands her the picture.

“Before we talk anything, I should thank you for killing Oscar.” There is a strange tone to her voice.

“You don’t need to thank me. He tried to shoot me, and I plugged him. He had taken Julie….”

“Yes, I read about it.” She interrupts, “He had kidnapped Julie, and Hills was going to pay to free her. She told me about it. Oscar was out of control.” As she says Oscar, once again there is something about how she says the name.

He pulls the notebook from his pocket and flips it open to a page full of notes.

“Julie’s kidnapping was about 5 months ago. You had a bun in the oven already. I heard Oscar had tried to blackmail Theodore, but that had been a year or more before that.”

“What are you saying, Mister Cooper?”

“I am just trying to make sense of things.” He points to the news article in her hand. “Everyone in the photo looks so happy about your new tyke. Everyone except your husband. Why is that?”

Karen looks at the photo more closely. “Oh that. Teddy doesn’t like his picture taken.”

“It doesn’t have anything to do with ‘Teddy’ preferring to spend nights with men. Especially his private secretary?” He stands up and walks slowly around the library.

“Mister Cooper, I don’t know what you have heard, but my husband loves me. He has never been anything but kind and loving to me.” She says as she hands him back the news article. “Teddy is the sweetest and kindest of all his family members.”

Ken pockets the article. “Yeah, that is what I heard. He is so sweet that he’s a daisy.”

She sighs. “It’s not like that.” She stands up. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then explain it to me.” He responds with an earnest tone.

“Why should I. Are you working a case? Are you trying to get information to blackmail our family? Or worse are you working with the press?”

Ken stops walking, lowers his head and slowly shakes it. “It is nothing like that Misses Huddler. I wish I could explain it. I saw the photo and something didn’t fit. I have this nagging feeling that there is more that just a happy family. Tell me I’m wrong and I’ll leave.”

She walks up and places a hand on his shoulder. “Mister Cooper, you are wrong. If you have no other questions, you can leave.”

He puts away his notepad and goes to the door. “If you need a PI, give me a ring. You have my card.”

Joseph meets him in the hallway and escorts him to the front door. Ken reaches into his pocket and pulls out a few bills and slips them to the butler. “How long have you worked for the Huddler’s?”

“Long enough. But I won’t say nothing against Mister Theodore or Miss Karen.”

“That’s ok. I just feel like there’s something hinky. If I slip you some more lettuce, would that help?”

“No Sir. I’d take your money, but it won’t change a thing. I don’t like peepers, and everything is square between the Huddlers. I’m being polite as I can, but you heard Miss Karen. You gots to go.” Joseph says as he hands Ken his coat and hat.

Ken peels off a Five from the small roll in his pocket and puts his card in it. “Joseph, take it. If you change your mind, give me a buzz, either way, keep the fin.”

As he sits in his sedan, Ken looks at himself in the rear view mirror. “I must be cracking up. Everyone is telling me there is nothing. But my gut says different.” He starts up the car, “But my gut doesn’t earn me any sugar. Maybe Joan will’ve got something.”

(If you are enjoying this, leave me a comment. Hopefully you return tomorrow for Part 4. If you enjoy my writings, follow and subscribe.)

AAA Detective Story - "Who's the Father" - Part 2

The Coconut Club was a swing dance club. A mixture of money and fame walked though those doors. It really wasn’t Ken’s kind of place. He didn’t mind the music, but he liked dancing slow. Swing dancing really wasn’t his thing.

A sign on the by the door said, “Coloreds Sundays, Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

He remembered something a while back about how when the Negro Vets came back, they weren’t allowed in. There had been a few fights and talk of building some clubs on their side of town, but white musicians didn’t want to play there, or maybe the cops didn’t want “mixing of the races” in that part of town. He thought it was more likely that, for the owners of the club, Green was the only color they really cared about. It never really mattered one way or another to him. When he worked CID, he saw just as many white criminals as any other color. And most of them were Officers.

He finishes another cigarette and goes through the door. The interior of the club is fake palm trees and coconuts. The bar has bamboo accents, but the stage is set up with a full sized bandstand. Tables surround the dance floor. He takes off his coat and hat and gives them to the girl at the check room. She gives him a ticket.

It is still early. The band hasn’t arrived yet, and the place is mostly empty. He goes to the bar and nods at the drink slinger. “So what’s special?” he asks as he pulls out a couple of bills.

“House special is a Pina Colada. But I think a man like you would prefer a Cuba Libre or a shot.” The bartender says in an accented tone.

“Actually, I’m working tonight. What time does the band and the singer show up?” Ken responds pushing the bills across the bar.

The tender pockets them and pours a glass of cola. “They normally show up around 6:00 or 6:30. But you won’t see the singer until she goes on stage. They all come in through the stage door.” He hands Ken the glass and nods to the door by the side of the bandstand.

“Is there a backstage? Dressing rooms? That kind of thing?” Ken asks taking a small sip.

“Si, But no one is allowed back there.”

Ken hands him a couple more bills. “I am just following up on something, and besides the Lady knows me.” He takes another sip. “How about I take that table over near the door, and when folks arrive, you have someone give the singer my card.”

Ken pulls out and hands over a card that just says “AAA Detective Agency, Ken Cooper”.

“Very good. Mister Cooper.”

As Ken takes the drink and sits down at the table, he hears the bartender talk with a waitress in Spanish, something about “Give this to the singer when she arrives” or something similar. He remembered a little Italian, but didn’t really know Spanish.

After a while, he hears some voices and movement from behind the bandstand.

He sees a couple of musicians carrying instrument cases and music stands, setting up on the bandstand.

A cigarette girl, without her tray, but still wearing her short skirt and nylons walks up. 
 “Mr. Cooper, will you please follow me?”

Ken finishes his drink and leaves the empty glass on the table, following the attractive girl, watching how her hips move.

She stops at a door and knocks. “Miss Julie, I brought Mr. Cooper as you asked.”

The door opens and he sees Julie wearing a silk robe. She hands a few bucks to the girl. “Thank you. I will take it from here.”

She opens the door, “Please come in Mr. Cooper.”

He closes the door behind him. “It is good to see you, Miss Schmidt. I have a few questions.”

She sits down before a vanity and looks in the mirror, putting on her makeup.

“I am glad, it is only questions. As I told you last time I saw you, I might not be a good girl, but I don’t want it publicly known.” She looks at him in the mirror as she applies a little blush on her cheeks.

“I saw in the papers, that you and your sister were at the Huddler’s christening of their son. What can you tell me about it?” He asks, sitting down on a stool.

“What do you mean? Mrs. Theodore Huddler gave birth to her son, and all of the society families attended the christening. But you could have gotten that from the society pages.”

She focuses on painting her lips.

“Yeah, that’s what I read, but something was hinky to me. I heard Theodore was a daisy, and not just that but maybe he enjoyed men more than his wife. So, I just want to know what you’ve heard.”

She stops doing her makeup and turns to face him. “Mr. Cooper, are you trying to blackmail the Huddlers? I had problems with Oscar, but Theodore has never been anything but kind to me and my sister.” She says in a stern tone.

Ken shakes his head and exhales. “You got me all wrong, Miss Schmidt. I saw the picture in the paper, and something didn’t add up. I’m just trying to make sense of things. Maybe Mrs. Huddler doesn’t mind her husband’s proclivities as long as he does his husbandly duties. But when I saw the picture in the paper, I saw a man who wasn’t happy to have a son. It just didn’t set right with me.”

Julie gets up from the vanity and moves behind a changing screen. She removes the robe and slips into her dress. Ken watches her shapely shadow slide into the dress. She is such a looker, he wishes he was here to get a piece. But she is no chippie, so he just focuses on why he is there.

“Maybe I am just barking up the wrong tree. I don’t have a case, so maybe I should just dangle.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cigarette.

“Please don’t light up in here.” She says, stepping from behind the curtain. “Can you zip me up?”

Ken walks over, the unlit fag still in his mouth, and zips up the back of her dress.

“Sorry to bother you.” He says turning to leave.

“Wait a minute Mr. Cooper. You rescued me from Oscar, and kept quiet about afterwards, so let me share with you a little gossip. Karen, that is Mrs. Huddler, doesn’t approve of her husband sleeping with men. She wanted a child, preferably a son, and rumor had it she would do anything to get one. She was with child, or at least appeared to be, less than a year ago. That was about the time Oscar was trying to gain control of the company from Theodore. Hillary might know more. She and Karen are friends. But, Mr. Cooper, I want to stress, this is all rumor. Please don’t do anything that will hurt the Huddlers.”

He turns to face her, walks closer, and softly caresses her cheek.

“Thanks for the info. I’ll ring your sister tomorrow. I hope you have a good show tonight.”

He wants to kiss her but knows it will smear her lipstick and just leaves.

After he closes her door, he looks for an exit. He could stay and enjoy the band. He really hasn’t heard her sing. But looking as good as she does, that will just having him frustrated and playing with himself. So he might as well go back to his little hole in the wall.

“Com’ on baby. Just raise it up and let me lick for a bit, you know I play better when my lips are wet from you.” A man’s voice whispers from the shadows.

“Pete, can’t you wait?” A familiar voice whispers back.

“Babe, just a little. The guys are busy tuning up, they won’t hear.”

Ken stays in the shadows and quietly moves so he can confirm his suspicions.

Yep, he sees Pete, on his knees, with Joan’s skirt raised up. He pulls the crotch of her panties to the side and starts licking her pussy. “Pete, do it quickly, I don’t want anyone to see.”

Ken is a little surprised by it. He thought maybe Pete was going to have Joan suck him before he went on stage, but him licking her is unexpected. He stays still and just watches. After a few minutes Joan is biting her knuckle of one hand as she pulls Pete’s hair with the other. He looks like he is devouring her. She tightens her thighs around his head and covers her mouth as she finishes. Pete then stands up, grabs his horn, and rubs the mouthpiece on his freshly wet lips. Then he blows and fingers a quick scale.

“Perfect. Now I will taste you all night. Thanks Babe.” And walks to the bandstand.

Joan adjusts her panties and skirt. “He’s lucky I don’t wear knickers.”

Ken quietly walks closer and says in a low tone, “So, that’s what Pete does to warm up before a show.”

Joan looks up, finishing straightening herself. “Hey Boss. Sometimes, he needs a little something. It’s better than dope. I seen some o’ his band mates all jangly from whatever hop they score. If I’m what Pete needs and it keeps him away from that stuff, I’m good. So did you get a good show?”

“More than I expected. But you know us Peepers, we got to watch the action.” He jokes.

“So did you talk to Julie?”

“Yeah, she told me a few things. I will call her sister tomorrow. I might be barking up the wrong tree, but something still feels rotten.” He says reaching into his pocket for his lighter.

“Don’t light up back here, Boss. No ash trays. Either go back in or go out. I’m gonna watch my Pete. I love watching him use his lips.”

“See you tomorrow, Joan.” He says walking out the exit. The early night air is cold and clear. Ken lights up and realizes that he needs to go back in for his coat, which is still with the coat check girl. He tries the stage door, but it locked behind him. “Can’t win for losing some nights.” He mutters as he walks to the front.

(If you enjoyed Part 2, leave me a comment. Come back tomorrow for Part 3. If you enjoy my writings, follow and subscribe.)