A/N: Takes place in Los Angeles in the 60's. Has descriptions of femdom, facesitting and smothering, so if you're not into that, this may not be for you.
Detective Nick Faust woke in the tender early hours of the morning as the landline rang out loud. He yawned and dragged himself out of bed towards the phone, which was relentless in its chirping.
"Who is it?", he asked gruffly into the phone. "Wake up Faust. We've got a cold one in Moony's Motel. We need you here half an hour ago" said his partner over the phone. Nick sighed but agreed he'd be right over.
When he pulled up to the motel, he found his partner smoking outside. "What's the situation Marty?", Nick asked as he gently dragged his partner back into the crime scene.
"Well it's an old fellow dead in room 104. Name of Bernard Harvey. He's a nobody, so I'm racking my head for a probable cause here. If you ask me, it's a.... sexual accident of sorts. The manager said he saw an exotic-looking girl walk in with him. Looks like they were having a good time when his heart gave out, and so the broad ran off. If you concur, maybe we can all go back home and who knows, maybe get a few more hours of quality sleep in", Marty said, taking a deep puff of his cigarette.
"Ha what a way to go. Alright let's have a look", Nick chuckled as they walked into the room. The victim was indeed an old man, lying naked on the bed with a sheet covering his lower half. He still had a pentrified woody that was tenting the bedsheet near his groin.
Nick scrunched up his nose as the familiar smell of a dead body attacked his senses. The old man's arms were tied to the headboard using strong pieces of cloth. He had a frail body, and Nick wondered if the bondage was even necessary. His eyes were still open, his face stuck in an expression of mild terror.
"Jeez. The old man sure knew how to party, huh", Nick remarked as he walked over to the body. There were no signs of physical assault or bodily injury - it did just look like an unfortunate accident. However, something about the feel of the scene was off. He felt his heart - and something else too - pounding and wondered why that was the case.
"These sheets are quite messy. Signs of struggle?", he asked his partner. "More like signs of having a good time! There's semen everywhere Nick", Marty chuckled. Nick nodded and paced around the body, trying to find what his instincts were telling him.
Suddenly he had a hunch. He leaned over the old man's body, taking a deep whiff near his face. It was the unmistakable scent of a woman. "Yeah that's definitely the good juice over there alright", Marty muttered.
Nick walked around the room to a chair where the old man's clothes were hanging. He fished around his coat to find his wallet and a matchbook from a club named 'Olive Sunshine'. "Hmm this is probably where he picked up the girl. It's worth checking out...", Nick remarked. Marty clicked in irritation as he realized Nick wasn't about to let it go.
"Oh and look here, he's got over $70 in cash", Nick exclaimed. "Now why would someone walk around with that kind of short change?", he continued quizzingly. "Probably to pay the girl and show her a good time", Marty shrugged. "Exactly! So why didn' t she take the money?", Nick continued.
"I dunno Nicholas, maybe she was terrified at the fact that a guy died in the middle of sex with her. How about that?", Marty said curtly, clearly starting to get irritated. "Or maybe.. she didn't need the money...", Nick said softly.
Nick picked up the ashtray that was on the side table and went to the window to open it so that he could get some fresh air and have a smoke. He lit up and paced near the window, trying to find out what he was missing. Suddenly he noticed something in the ashtray. Three of the cigarette butts were different from all the rest. "Capri cigarettes", Nick noted as he picked them out, "Oh yeah that narrows it down to half the women in LA", Marty snorted.
Nick raised his eyebrows when he saw that they had faint red lipstick marks around the filter. "A woman smoked these. Can we get someone to identify the shade of lipstick?" he said as he asked one of the beat cops on the scene to bag it for evidence. "Also get the manager's statement. I need a description of this woman on file", he added.
The coroner walked into the room after returning from washing his hands. "'Morning Faust, hell of a tragedy this one", he mumbled.
"Morning. What have you got for me, Johnson?" Nick asked him, eager to find out more. "Pretty much what Marty must have told you I'm afraid. The old fellow's heart gave out in the middle of his business. As far as I can see, no signs of deliberate harm. There are some fingernail scratches on his chest and legs - most likely from the woman he was with. You know how ladies are these days, they're into all that domination stuff. You know my wife's friend --"
Nick cut him off impatiently. He knew all about sexual perversions and domineering women. "What about any signs of suffocation? What if someone, say, put a pillow to his face?" he asked. He had a theory about the exact way the old man could have died, but he kept that to himself.
The coroner scratched his head and replied, "It looks like a heart attack to me... but I suppose it's possible. I'll need to do the autopsy before I can say more".
"Well let me know how that goes. It's your scene now", Nick said as he dragged Marty outside with him. They both lit up their cigarettes, shivering in the chill of the early morning.
"I don't think it's an accident Marty. Someone killed that old man - we need to find that woman", Nick said, rubbing his hands together to heat them up. "For God's sake Nick, it's an open and shut case. Do you really want to drag a poor working woman into this?"
But Nick was adamant. "I'll check out the club myself tonight, you can stuff yourself at home Marty"