The tall, dark haired woman knocked on the door of the Harry Dick Detective Agency. After a moment of silence, she turned the doorknob, opened the door and stepped into the office.
"Hello? Mr. Dick?" she called.
"Just a minute," came a muffled voice from the back.
Harry Dick put down the TWAT magazine he had been reading and stood, pulled his pants up and flushed the toilet. He opened the bathroom door and stepped into the office. A tall, willowy dame stood in front of his desk.
"Yeah. I'm Harry Dick. What ya need, toots?"
"Oh, Mr. Dick," the woman said as she sat in the chair in front of Dick's desk, crossing her long legs seductively and smoothing her dress over her knees. "I'm in so much trouble. I need your help."
Harry looked the dame over closely. She had long, dark, curled hair that could have belonged to Gloria Swanson. Her dress was obviously from one of those high class stores like Sears & Roebuck. Those lips were so kissable they could have come right off that great Trojan condom poster down at Wiley's Drugstore on 39th Street. But her most noticeable feature was the pair of jiggling 38DD's that hid under here dress front. Yeah, this was one classy broad. By the looks she could have been a waitress at one of those expensive joints downtown or even a hairdresser. A guy with money could really go places with a bimbo like this one, Detroit or maybe even Cleveland.
"Ok. Ok. Let's start at the beginning," Harry said as he took his place behind his desk. He pulled a yellow legal pad out of his desk drawer. "Now, give it to me straight, baby."
The woman held a ruffled, pink hankie to the corner of her eye while Harry stared at her huge knockers. "Say, are those real?" he asked casually.
"What? What are you talking about, Mr. Dick?"
"Oh. Never mind. Just give me the facts starting at the beginning. What's your name?"
"Wanda. Wanda Suckumoff. I'm Russian, you know."
"Oh you're in a hurry? I under... Oh, you're from Russia. Ok... go on."
Wanda launched into her story. It seemed she had gotten mixed up with the wrong crowd. It had been fun at first but when she discovered her friends had pulled a big jewel heist downtown where the night watchman had been killed she'd decided it was time to get out of Dodge (why Dodge when this was New York went unanswered). Unfortunately, her friends did not like the idea of having anyone walking around freely who knew the real score on the job.
"I see," said Dick as he leaned back in his chair. "So who are these guys? What are their names?"
"Well. The guy I was shacked up with was Vito... Vito Mazzaloni. And there was his brother Marko and another guy named Carlucci. I don't know his first name. They called him 'Edgar' or sometimes 'Canola Nuts'."
"Hmmm. Sounds like some Italian mob operation," Harry thought to himself.
"So, why don't you just blow town? What do you need me for?"
"Oh, I can't leave. I have to take care of my invalid parents. They'd just be lost without me," Wanda sniffed into her hankie.
"Damn, a dame with real heart here," thought Harry.
"Look. This is going to be dangerous so it ain't going to be cheap. Let's say, Twenty bucks a day plus expenses," Harry said levelly staring again at Wanda's mountainous kazongas. He thought he could see the outline of a nipple when Wanda breathed in. The cock in his pants gave a leap with each breath. He moved his hand do to rub his cock through the pants of his quality Robert Hall suit. Harry leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes as his imagination overtook him. Big luscious bazookas with rock hard nipples floated in his mind's eye as he rubbed harder. His cock ballooned in his pants.
"Umm. What are you doing, Mr. Dick?" Wanda asked wonderingly as she held out a handful of $20.00 bills. "That's all I have, Mr. Dick."
Harry's eyes popped open and her snapped upright in his chair. "Oh. Umm... Just thinking. Umm... Italians you say, huh?" Harry took the bills and stuffed them in his coat pocket.
"If I didn't know better I'd think you were... um..."
"Naw. I was just putting my noggin to work on this case, baby," he said standing and trying to cover his hard-on with a file folder from his desk. "I'll get right on this. I'll call you tonight and I'll tell ya what I found out," he said as he escorted Wanda toward the exit.
"Oh thank you, Mr. Dick. You're a life saver," Wanda crooned as she was roughly shoved out into the hallway with the door slamming behind her.
Harry sat back at his desk and thought for a minute. Then he picked up the phone and dialed a number.
A voice answered on the other end of the line.
"Rocco. It's Harry Dick. Tell me. You know a couple of guys around the neighborhood named Mazzaloni? Yeah. Two brothers. And another guy named Carlucci?"
After a long pause, Harry said into the phone, "Yeah. That's him, Canola Nuts. You know these guys?" Harry listened for another minute. "Is that right? Where do they hang out?"
"Ok, Thanks. I owe ya one, Rocco," Harry mumbled hoping Rocco hadn't heard as he hung up the phone.
"So these guys hang out at the Blue Goose Bar & Girly Show, eh? I know that joint. It's a tough crowd in there," Harry thought as he reached into the bottom drawer of his desk to retrieve his snub nose 38 Special with the Nickel Plate finish and the class engraved dedication on the barrel that read, "For Louis on his 21st B.Day". For the 29th time that month Harry wondered who the hell Louis was. But he was in a hurry. He had things to do.
He grabbed his trench coat off the coat tree as he left the office and headed down stairs to the parking lot. Harry got into his 1924 Packard convertible and pulled his car out into traffic on 33rd Street heading uptown.
The Packard pulled up in front of the 39th Street Precinct, Harry got out and walked up the three steps to the door. Inside he spied Detective Bob Malone, also known to his closest friends as Bony Malone. Harry walked up to him and said, "Hey. How's trick Bony?"
"Fuck you, Dick."
"Gee, ain't ya glad to see me, Bony?"
"Don't call me Bony, you shit head."
"I thought we were friends, Bony?"
"Fuck off, ass wipe," Bony called over his shoulder as he went into his office as Harry followed close behind.
"Look, Bony. I got a real case and I need help. Okay?"
Bony sat behind his desk and shook his head. "What is it?"
"I got this client see? She got mixed up with the Mazzaloni brothers down at the Blue Goose. I just want them to leave her alone."
"Mazzaloni brothers? The client of yours wouldn't be a dame would she? You know, fun bags out her here? Brown hair. Lips like the Trojan Condom poster down at Wiley's? Ass to die for? That wouldn't be her would it?"
"Uh. Yeah. How do you know her? And, uh... what did you say her ass was like? I forgot to check that out."
"Get the hell out of my office."
"Now simmer down, Bony. You gotta help me here. What do you have on this jewel case?"
"Look, shit bag. Go crawl back in your sewer. This case is too big for you. That's all I can tell ya. Now get out."
Harry left the Precinct and sat in his car thinking. "Big case, huh? I should a got more money for this. I suppose I'm going to have to go down to the Blue Goose and take care of those guys myself."
Harry pulled the Packard out into traffic and headed farther uptown to the Blue Goose. Inside the saloon there was a long bar with mostly empty bar stools this early in the day. In the corner was a small stage with a brass pole. A naked woman was sitting on the edge of the stage reading.
He sidled up to the bar beckoned to the bartender, one Roger Head. Roger was well known to the police after serving 10 years for taking the rap on a gay gangbang charge some years before. As far as anyone knew, Roger had been clean since he got out of prison but it was known he regularly associated with underworld figures.
