Mike Hammer Chinatown Ch 03

Transcription of 1st FBI interview with Mike Hammer, Private Detective, in the Chinatown case.

*****

I left her in bed, showered, splashed Eau d'Hermes on my face, buttoned down an Arrow shirt, added a brown sharkskin Louis Roth suit, and went to work, slipping on a pair of loafers as I went out the door.

She had been crying again in the night, in her sleep. By the time I saw her later she would be fine again, playing the perky housewife and shit, but at night the è mó came back to haunt her. There wasn't much I could do. Her demons were real enough. I wondered how long she would keep up the Camay housewife commercial.

Pat had come by yesterday with his crew and they had processed and removed the bodies. Better him than the Uniforms who would have arrested me and threw me in the clink for a day or two just on general principles. Besides, something was bothering me about how those Uniforms had not come till morning, hours after the shooting. Anyway, I knew a service who cleaned up these sorta messes and called em in to make the bedroom habitable again.

I had told Ivy to take a walk while Pat was at my place. He didn't need to know about her. My version of the story had the hoods coming after me alone. He didn't look real convinced but he left it alone, for now.

Work was going nowhere. No one had heard anything, knew anything, or had anything to say. There was no war between the Tongs... if you listened to the noise from the street. But people were dead, and the pile of bodies was starting to smell.

When we were on the run, Ivy had told me that there was a turf war. That could mean a fight over who supplies the drugs, the underground casinos, or the prostitutes; the backdoor massage parlors of Chinatown where Chinese immigrant girls were kept in virtual slavery for years, until their looks faded.

Ivy was not one of them. Her father owned a underground casino which made him a wealthy man, and Ivy was a rich bitch. She was smart and she was tough and she had class. When I first ran into her she was working a card table in her father's casino, about eighteen years old and wearing a demure outfit that stood out among the trashy get-ups the other casino girls wore. It cost me a lot of money in losing hands but I eventually got her name, then her phone number, then her virginity. It was all good until her father found out. Then she disappeared from the casino and the phone number no longer worked.

But I was young then, fresh outta the army and the world was my oyster... too young to know a good thing don't come along so often. I let her slide and joined the police force. That didn't last either. I thought they were the good guys. They weren't.

That was then and now was now. I wasn't so young anymore. Ivy was back in my life, complicating things. I didn't know how that would work out but... I liked coming home to her. It was all your regrets in life being washed away and replaced with ... a good feeling in your belly. A secret that made you walk with a bit more bounce. A reason to go home at night.

I turned up the walkway to the Emergency entrance of City Hospital. Velda was in a private room on the fifth floor and I wanted to see how she was doing. It had been almost a week since I found her slumped over her desk, unconscious, bleeding from a blow on the head. The doctors said she was gonna be okay but I wanted to see for myself.

"How doing, Doll."

"Hi, Mike!"

"They letting you out soon?"

"Couple weeks, they said, wanna keep me here for observation."

"Need you at work,kid, I can't figure the phone out."

She smiled up at me and I knew she would be okay again. I chatted with her a few more minutes and sat awhile so I wouldn't look like I was in a hurry - but I hate hospitals. I owed her that much. As usual she saw right through me and sent me on my way.

"Get outta here, Mike"

"Okay Doll. See ya tomorrow."

Rain was falling outside and cabs were like gold so I walked back to the office. On the way I stopped into a dive I knew for a quick drink. It was empty except for a couple of city crew - off work early, and a voluptuous redhead just getting ready to go to work. She was standing at the end of the bar, looking through the selection in the jukebox and holding a glass of something.

I ordered a beer and threw two quarters on the bar.

"Keep the change."

"Got a smoke, sailor?"

The redhead had moved up behind me while I was ordering. She pressed her tits up against my back and spoke close to my ear. I could smell cheap perfume and something else... maybe she wasn't just coming to work after all.

"I don't smoke, Doll." I lied.

"Too bad," she said, maneuvering around to get a look at my face, while placing a hand on my arm all friendly like.

I let her arm stay where it was. She seemed like a nice girl, somewhere under the makeup and fake smile and shiny dress.

"I don't pay for it, either." I lied again.

"No guys like you don't." she replied, looking me in the eyes. "The girl pays, with guys like you."

I didn't know what to say to that so didn't say nothin, just sipped on my beer. After she finished looking at me she sashayed slowly back to the jukebox, working her ass all the way, so's I would know what I was missing.

While watching her walk away, I noticed a couple of oriental gentlemen in a poorly lit corner booth, just down from the music machine, that I hadn't noticed coming in. Maybe my eyes had adjusted to the smoky dimness. I recognized the one from way back in my police days. He was Hip Sing Tong clan. The other was On Yick Tong clan. They were mortal enemies. They should never have been in the same room together.

They seemed to be having a discussion, a heated one. In Chinese. I didn't know Chinese but for a few words that Ivy had taught me. Unlike her, they weren't talking about what a great guy I was, but I overheard the words Tōng zhàn. I did know that meant a gang war.

Hip Sing Tong was mostly all about gambling. On Yick Tong was mostly involved in prostitution and sex slaves. If there was some problem, it was quite likely that it involved the area they both shared: the growing drug trade. Since the Vietnam conflict had begun a couple years back, there was a steadily increasing supply of heroin reaching the city. My old pal, still in the Army, said his spook acquaintances were shipping it back from some place called Laos to finance their operations in Southeast Asia. Didn't matter, someone was gonna make big profits from selling it. I remembered then, Ivy had said it was drugs...

I was itching to get closer to the booth but the Asian gentlemen choose that moment to end their acrimonious discussion. One headed hastily out the front door and the other chose to exit out the back. I tossed off the rest of my beer and exited also, choosing the front. There was no sign of the Tong member outside. Just the traffic and the rain and the closing dark in Chinatown.

Ivy walked by on the sidewalk. I almost missed it, because I wasn't expecting her to be dressed like that. She looked like a high class prostitute, the kind only the top Tong or city politicians could get their dirty hands on. The kind you rarely saw by day. She had on a pair of black Dior, Roger Vivier stiletto pumps and a shortie black mink coat that had money written all over it. That was all I noticed, that and a lot of shapely leg. Her head was held high and I caught the piquing scent of Femme Rochas in the air as she strutted by.

I was sure she didn't see me in the dark doorway, her nose being so high up and all. She was a woman on a mission and had no time to notice the riffraff along the way. I fell in, a respectful distance behind her, tailing the Oriental woman I had thought was back at my apartment, doing her nails. She went right to the On Yick Tong building, although the sign above the door said it was Yang's Noodles. Anyone from Chinatown knew who that brick, 4 story building belonged to, and what kinda business went on there. She went in through the front doors. Five minutes later, I did too.

It looked like a noodle shop. People were sitting down, mostly Asians, eating noodles. A counter at the back of the restaurant had a till beside a red and gold statue of a Buddha-cat, waving at me. It looked more welcoming that the face of the girl behind the counter. She was busy wearing a tight red embroidered dress and ignoring me.

"Massage," I said, stepping up to the counter, causing her to glance up at me for a moment. Her slit eyes went well with the dress.

"This way." The slit eyed girl in the traditional red Chinese dress led me down the hallway past the kitchen, to a flight of stairs, then went back to ignoring me from behind her counter. Up I went and found myself in a small lobby with a few girls sitting around on couches, while a large Chinese businessman and a older Chinese woman eyed me from behind a desk.

"What you want"

"Massage." I repeated.

The older Chinese woman's eyes wandered to the sitting girls.

"Suzhou, you go with him."

A small girl stood up. She looked about twelve.

"Not enough girl for you, Big Man? Better you take two." She laughed uproariously, motioning to another girl.

Another small girl got up off the couch and joined the first. The madam said something harsh in Chinese and laughed again, while both girls obediently latched onto my arms, taking me down a short corridor and into a room. It was shabby and smelled like old laundry. There was a dim red light and a small bed and not much else, except the two tiny Chinese girls expertly stripping their clothes off beside me.

Then they were naked and pushing me, pulling me to the bed. Before I knew what was happening they had my trousers off and my boxers down around my ankles. I tripped over myself and fell on the single bed, instantly surrounded by giggling females, hairless between the legs and with firm, high up titties pressing against me. One had found my cock and were already massaging me... the other was rifling through my wallet that had magically appeared in her hands.

"Ten dollar okay mister?" in her little girl voice.

I nodded, not being in a position to negotiate price. She took the bill, and another one, and tossed the emptied wallet back down on my trousers. Then she turned and, without a pause, leaned down to take the head of my limp cock in her mouth, the other girl still massaging my shaft with her small hand.

I was lying on my back and quickly stiffening up with all the attention, while the girls, I noticed, were starting to eye my equipment up, somewhat nervously. The one wanking me stopped and put her hand up against me, measuring. Then added her other hand. The little Oriental broke out in giggles, shaking her head at her partner, blushing and jabbering in Chinese.

"No, No." she said, switching to English and anxiously looking up at me. "Too big."

I gave her a grin to show her I wasn't going to force the issue and pulled her over on top of me so her tiny hairless slit was just in front of my face. She was sitting on my chest, naked and nervous, hands holding herself, her pussy tight and closed. I've seen 'em shy like that before. I knew what would make em open up.

Reaching around her I put my hands on her small round ass cheeks and tugged her closer. She resisted but I slid her small body forward effortlessly. That hairless little Chinese twat was at my lips.

About then the other little girl went back to work on me, taking me back in her wet mouth, at least all she could fit, which was just the head. I paused a moment, then went back to work, coaxing that slit open with my tongue, diving inside for hidden delights.

It didn't take her long to appreciate my ministrations and soon nectar was flowing out from that Oriental tulip. She opened like a flower for a bee to pollinate, delicate inner lips spreading invitingly, moaning whenever my lips brushed against that tiny, Chinese, little girl nubbin. I teased her at first, exploring her pee hole and love tunnel, tongue-fucking her just to see if she liked it that way.

Her partner was bent over awkwardly, sucking on the swollen head of my cock like a kitten with a Popsicle. Her hand was working me now as well and I was rock hard from the eroticism of two small Chinese girls doing me at the same time. One on my dick and one sitting on my face... She was embarrassed but looking down with slanty eyes wide open, watching me lick between her legs. I thought it was time to get serious with her and after a few preparatory kisses on that bashful nubbin, I started down the road to paradise, taking long measured licks of her whole pussy, stem to stern, like a dog licking his bitch. She shuddered and grabbed my hair roughly in her hands, and after a while starting to ride me, her narrow hips tilting repeatedly to allow access to her intimate parts. She pushed my face closer, then away, fucking my face now in her mounting excitement, and I kept up the rhythm, asshole to clit, asshole to clit, my face dripping in sweet and sour sauce. Finally she started shaking and pushed me violently away, but her eyes were oddly soft as she looked down on me, I felt her hand on my head, tenderly this time, not harshly or demanding like before. Her friend was still slurping away on my Popsicle.

That's when I heard Ivy's voice in the hallway outside. She was loudly screaming curses at someone, then there was the thumping sound of someone getting hit hard. There were the voices of several men, shouting in Chinese. It sounded like someone was getting dragged down the hall, past my door.

I picked up the Xiǎo de from her sitting position on my chest and set her carefully down on the bed. Then I pulled the other small one off my dick and set her on the bed also. The two of them sat there leaning forward, naked, looking surprised, interested to see what the Báirén was going to do next, and cute as anything. I lunged up and pulled my trousers back on, stuffing my wallet in the side pocket and heading for the door, edged it open and peeked out on the hallway. Men with hatchets and knives had Ivy by the arms and legs, and were just disappearing down the stairs. I reached down and slid the 45 from my armpit holster, racking it. I was gonna need some help with this lot.

The Xiǎo de behind me started yelping in their foreign language so I figured it was time to get this show on the road. I started down the hall, blasting at anything that looked like a Chinese "businessman." The gun was loud in the enclosed space and the remaining girls scattered, holding their heads, and the little bitches stopped yelping behind me. Three well-dressed gangsters were down and not moving. I headed down the stairwell, just managing to duck a well aimed hatchet. The hatchet-man got a bullet in the guts for his trouble and tumbled to the bottom of the stairs. No sign of the girl in the red dress.

They were bustling her out the front doors and I popped two more hoods as they made to block my way. I squatted at the bottom of the stairwell to drop the clip clattering on the linoleum and slide a fresh one in. The barrel on the 45 was getting hot and my ears were ringing. I racked the big 45 again and stood up. Last clip.

I ran to the doors and edged out. They had her almost loaded into a delivery van, a screeching bundle of kicking fur with dangerously pointy high heels. One Chinese "businessman" caught a heel in the face and dropped out of the scrum screaming and holding his eye. The others were soon lying on the sidewalk with 45 caliber holes in them, leaking rivers of blood into the gutter. The driver, took one look back, flung open the van door and ran off like an Olympic sprinter.

Ivy was picking herself up from the back of the van, not looking at me. She seemed shaky but defiant and her hair and makeup were a mess... Through the opening in the front of the fur coat I could make out a hard nipple and the curve of a breast and I realized that she was naked underneath.

"Mike." She said looking at the ground.

"Ivy."

"I went to kill him, Mike."

"Yeah, I figured. Did you get him?"

"No."

"You want to go home now, Ivy?"

"Okay, Mike."