Continuing adventures of TT, and again, just for fun.
Thanks to Angel Love for her editing. Any mistakes are probably mine since I continue to tinker after editing.
TT Spalding - PI
The Preston Case
I was devastated! I was sitting in my office, looking out the tiny window that faced another tiny window in the brick wall of the building next to mine. That stark, blank wall mirrored my emotions. I had never been so low. Why, you ask? My hero, that immortal writer of mystery novels extraordinary, Mickey Spillane, was dead! The creator of that wonderful character, the one that I modeled my life after, Mike Hammer, was dead. Dead, as in stiff and planted in the cold, cold ground. The injustice of it all was too much for me. I had nothing left in my life. Gone! Just like that! In his prime and only 81 years old. There was no justice in the universe!
No more "It was easy" comments from Mike Hammer, his PI. No more sexy dames slinking into his office and no more nasty comments from the cops he always was one step ahead of. With Mickey gone, Mike was no more. I didn't think I could go on. As I sat there in my dark office, the shade over the door pulled down, an open bottle of warm beer in my hand and a tear in my eye, I heard a pounding on my door. I tried to ignore it but the pounding just intensified. After enduring it as long as I could and getting no response to the repeated, "Go away!" yells, I got up and walked slowly over to the door, slid the lock back and yanked it open.
"What the hell are you doing? I've been calling you for the last hour and I keep getting your voice mail. What's wrong? Why isn't the office open? You look like hell warmed over."
That was the voice of my loving wife, Maggie, the woman who was my life partner and my business partner. She was also my secretary and girl Friday but right now she was my worst nightmare. I couldn't tell her how badly I felt and how much I wanted to just curl up and get drunk and maybe slit my wrists. She wouldn't understand. She would want me to open the office and make some money so we could go on vacation. Vacation, when my life was over!
I told you there was no justice in the world! As she followed me in, she looked around, turned on the lights and unlocked the file cabinets. She slid behind the desk she used and turned on the computer. Once she had things to her liking, she got back up, went to the door, raised the shade turned over the sign to 'Open', and walked out to fill the pot with water for coffee. She didn't even wait for my answer. My world had collapsed and she was fixing coffee! How could she be so insensitive?
I sat back down with my warm beer and my sorrow and tried to find again that angst that I was nursing so successfully before this unwelcome interruption. As I again began to sink into my oblivion, Maggie came stomping back in, slapped my feet off the desk and slapped me as well. 'Smack' across the mouth! Not really hard, but Jeez! Did I say insensitive?
"Get your lazy ass moving. We have Mr. Preston coming in less than an hour. Do you have your notes? Your planner? Do you have anything?"
"Mickey is dead woman! Have you no compassion? No sensitivity? My hero! Gone! How do I go on?"
"If you don't get your fat ass up and get busy, I'll be the one that's gone! You promised me a vacation and Mr. Preston is the key to that vacation. He's rich, he's desperate and we can take him for enough to go to somewhere nice. Now, get your ass up and forget Mickey!"
"Hey! Maybe we can go on vacation to Murrell's Inlet. That's in South Carolina. That's where Mickey lived. Can we go there? You could get a room up in Myrtle Beach and lay around on the beach and shop while I visit his home?"
"Yeah, sure, I can do that. I'll also pick up a couple of young studs at the beach and then I won't give a crap where you go. You can do your thing and I'll do mine. How would that be?"
That threat was too real and too much in the realm of possible that I changed my mind real quick. Maggie was a real looker, a peach, a real doll. (Damn, I had to learn to talk like a real guy again). Anyway, she so much as wiggled her finger at another guy and he would follow her anywhere.
"I'll get ready for Mr. Preston. You're right. We'll go to Hawaii like we planned."
So, I pulled my notes and began to fill out the log. That's where I put all of my notes and thoughts about my clients. That's where my book would come from. The one I would now dedicate to Mickey Spillane. I thought back to Mr. Preston's visit.
He was well dressed, pricey threads, indicating money. As a matter of fact, he smelled of money. Old money, the kind that you inherit, not the new kind. He came from a wealthy family and it showed. His daddy was probably a big shot of some kind. I didn't like him from the start. Too smug, too self assured. Probably had himself a trophy wife that he couldn't keep satisfied and she was stepping out on him. Poor sap probably didn't have the balls to keep a good looking woman home where she belonged.
Not bad, but my heart wasn't in it. Mickey wasn't looking over my shoulder any more and I just didn't have the will to go on. Well, I had no choice but to take some of his money since Maggie was showing him in. I stood up and held out my shaking hand.
"Mr. Preston. Good to see you again. We have a couple of things to go over and the contract to sign before we can get started. You've met my wife? She'll be sitting in to take notes and get the paperwork started."
Mr. Preston was a tall, thin man with a sharp chin, small eyes and big ears. He looked to weigh less than 140 pounds soaking wet and if it weren't for the clothes he was wearing, he wouldn't attract a woman's attention even if he was the only man around. At least that's what my opinion of him was. I didn't know about Maggie since she was still glaring at me, and paying him no mind. I decided to get on with it to distract her.
"First, can you tell me again why you think your wife is cheating on you? Patricia wasn't it? Why do you think Patricia is cheating on you?"
"My wife is a very beautiful woman Mr. Spalding, and she attracts a lot of attention. There have been several men who made it no secret that they would like to get to know her better. But, to my knowledge, she had always refused to allow herself to be compromised. It is in her financial interests not to be compromised. But I have begun to see some changes in her lately. She is suddenly very interested in my whereabouts. She has been going out during the afternoon, supposedly with a girlfriend. She often fails to answer the phone at home when I am traveling and she seems to be shopping much more often. She was never that interested in shopping before."
I watched his face as he spoke about these things. I got the distinct impression that he cared less about what she was doing and more about whom she was doing it with. It was also clear from the way he spoke about her that he had little feeling for her. If my impression was correct, she was a trophy wife only for show. He had no love for her. I also had the distinct feeling that he might be gay. But, that was neither here nor there.
"Well, we can certainly find out for you. Our standard contract is $5,000, with a deposit of $1,000 up front. All funds to be cash or cashier check. No personal checks accepted. The way we work, we will do a full report for you with pictures and videos if possible. If the report is acceptable, you pay us the balance of the $4,000. If you are not satisfied, we destroy the report and you only pay us $2,500 additional. We normally will have results within three weeks, unless your wife is less active than most."
Now, if you have followed any of my past adventures, you may be questioning the $5,000 and such. Well, he's rich, I didn't like him, he gave me the creeps, and his wife was certainly not getting any loving at home. So, that was worth a penalty. And since I was in the midst of a deep depression due to Mickey's passing, I was pissed. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.
"Your terms are acceptable. I would like to have pictures and videos as well as the report. I have $1,000 cash as requested. I gave your wife the envelope with the cash and the information you requested. I believe we can sign the paperwork now. I would like you to complete this assignment as soon as possible."
"Excellent. We'll start today. Maggie will walk you out and you can sign the contract. Thank you Mr. Preston. Maggie? Will you see Mr. Preston out?"
Maggie's glance back was answer enough. I would certainly hear from her tonight but what the hell. I decided now was as good a time as any to call Polly. It was her turn. I offered her the standard $800 and she accepted. She would be in later today to get the information and start the surveillance.
When Maggie came back in, she told me that all was well, the cash was in the box and if things went well, we were off to Hawaii. The extra two grand was enough to win me back some loving. When I reminded her of Murrell's Inlet, however, she gave me a nasty smile and suggested I do something with my body that I believe is impossible.
When Polly came in, I gave her the information and we talked briefly about the Missus. Polly wanted a couple of days to just follow her and then decide what to do. I agreed, told her we had an extra week anyway and left it in her capable hands. When she left, I called Bruno.
Now you know Bruno is the best mechanic I had ever worked with, but he was also a hopeless romantic. I told him about the case, let him know that Polly was on it but asked him to do me a favor and check into Mr. Preston. There was something about him that bothered me and I wanted Bruno to see what he could dig up. I offered him the standard $800 and he accepted. We were in business.
Over the next week, we closed two cases of industrial espionage and collected a tidy profit of just more than $12,000. All but $4,000 went into the business fund and it would buy a much needed high speed camera, a couple of high frequency bugs that couldn't be jammed and a new computer for Maggie. Her old one was making funny noises. The other four grand was part of our vacation fund. A good week, offset by Mickey's passing. Well, always better some good with the bad.
It had been eight days after Polly started that she came in. She stopped to talk with Maggie and then came in to my office and plopped down in the soft chair.
"Well it took me three tries to get it straight but I did it. Seems she was going out with a female friend a couple of times a week. When I followed them, they went shopping, went for lunch and then went back to the friend's place. She stayed for a little while and then drove home. Nothing unusual. Always left her car at the friend's and they took the friend's minivan shopping. Just two chicks out for a good day of blowing hubby's money."
"So, there's nothing going on?"
"Hah! That's what I thought until I noticed something. On the last visit to the friend's house, hubby's car was there. The friend's hubby, that is. While he was home, the visit turned into an afternoon. At the end of the afternoon, the Missus left, hubby went back to work and the friend waved both goodbye at the front door. Dressed only in a robe! What about that?"
