Mystery Showcase
Here is a little taste of the mystery story I've been working up:
Murder on the Menu
by J. Fries
It was a hot night and the air was thick and heavy, it seemed almost liquid. As I walked the atmosphere seemed to stick to me and weigh me down, like walking through a city-sized sauna wearing a terrycloth suit. If I was on any other case I would have stayed home on a night like this, the client could wait another day to find out who his wife was fraternizing with. But then I wasn't on any other case, I was on this one. I was headed for the docks to see Frankie "Sidecar" Scaldini, a lackey for the Luchesi family who could usually be counted on for a choice piece of information if the price was right. I was working this case for free so I had nothing to offer Scaldini. As a rule I never work on contingency but when the next lead you uncover could be the one that keeps you alive another day you tend to summon uncommon generosity. I only hoped that my credit with Scaldini was good enough for a freebie.
I got to the dockyard cannery, buzzed Frankie and savored a moment of rest as I waited for a response. I was a real fat ass. A tinny voice came from the intercom.
"Yeah?"
"Frankie, it's Fats." Ever since I was a fat little kid everyone had called me Fats.
"I'll buzz ya in."
I made my way up the stairs, panting heavily and stopping several times for a break. A half hour later I got to the top floor and greeted Scaldini. "I really wish you didn't work on the second floor."
"Maybe I'll install an elevator you fat fuck." Frankie chuckled to himself. His words deepened my already negative body-image but I couldn't linger on that. I had more important business to discuss, the business of staying alive.
"I love you too, Frankie. I need a favor."
"What? A pork roast?"
"Very funny. I need some information."
"Some information, huh? Let me guess, you need directions to the nearest all you can eat buffet?" He was playing hardball, luckily I had a corked bat.
"Estella Gaines. Name mean anything to you?"
"No. Did you eat her?"
"Seriously, Frankie! I really need to know! Have you heard of her or not?" I hoped he couldn't see the tears welling up in my eyes.
"Well that depends on who's asking." Scaldini was a notorious asshole.
Just then a semi-nude woman emerged from the foreman's office looking disheveled. "What's goin' on, Fran---". She trailed off when she saw me.
"I can't pay you tonight, Frankie. But if you tell me what I want to know I might be less inclined to tell your wife about the "work" you're doing down here so late." I had him.
"Get back in there! I'll be in there in a minute!" he snapped at his confused guest. "Alright, Fats. I'll tell you what I know."
Turns out Frankie didn't know much but he did tell me about a girl who might be able to give me a little more information, Sherry Finn. Miss Finn worked at a club called the Paradise Lounge, my business had taken me there many times before tailing unfaithful men for their jealous wives and girlfriends. There were only two kinds of people who went to the Paradise Lounge, suckers looking for booze and broads and con artists looking for suckers. I didn't relish the thought of going there because I was self-conscious about my weight problem and social settings tended to make this feeling even more acute. I always felt like everyone was staring at me or murmuring jokes to their friends. It sounds paranoid but you have to understand, I'm really, really fucking fat.
I paid the cabby and headed into the Paradise Lounge. Scaldini had told me what Miss Finn looked like, "5 foot ten, blonde hair, big ass titties. . .you can't miss her" he'd said. He was right. As soon as I opened the door I saw her, every bit as gorgeous as Frankie'd said. She was working a table of sailors, trying to massage their wallets with her charm. It seemed to be working, dollar bills peaked over the low-cut neckline of her red satin dress. I could tell that several people were staring at me, still I made my way to the table. "Miss Finn?"
One of the sailors stood up after I spoke. "Beat it, lard ass! She's with us tonight!" This could have gotten ugly so I played it loose. I peed in my pants. "Hey guys! Check it out, the lard ass pissed himself!" They all began laughing, slapping the table with sadistic delight at my expense. One look at Miss Finn told me that my plan had worked.
"Cut it out, you jerks! Come with me, sweetie. We'll get you all cleaned up." She had a voice like an angel and I totally wanted to slip the old bone to her. Unfortunately the "old bone" had disappeared among layers of disgusting fat years ago.
The laughter of the sailors trailed off in the distance as she led me upstairs to her room. I looked up her dress as we ascended. "Miss Finn, I need to talk to you."
"Say, do I know you?" she asked as she reached for a damp rag near a basin on her dresser.
"No, but I think you might be able to help me with something. I mean something besides my pants. I need to know if you can tell me about Estella Gaines."
"What do you want to know about Stella for?" So Frankie was telling the truth after all.
"I'm a private investigator. Miss Gaines came to see me two weeks ago about her sister and two days ago she disappeared. I'm trying to track her down. I'm afraid she may be in danger." I gave her enough information to peak her interest but I wasn't about to tip my hand just yet. What I didn't tell her was that I was just as worried about my own neck.
"There's not much I can tell you. Stella worked here off and on for about two years but she never stayed long enough for me to really get friendly with her. Seems like she was always going off someplace exotic, at least that's what she said. It always seemed to me that if she really had the money to go on all the great trips she talked about she wouldn't be working in this hell-hole."
She continued to talk as she leaned over the basin but my mind became lost in her cleavage. Her breasts called to me, begging me to touch them. Maybe it was the perfume she was wearing or maybe it was the 7 ounces of mescaline I had eaten a few hours before but I reached out and squeezed those breasts with everything I had.
"What the fuck are you doing, you obese bitch?!?" She recoiled and covered her breasts with her arms.
"I - I'm sorry! I'm really sorry! Please go on, I'm listening to you." Lucky for me she was used to this kind of thing. Years of working here had hardened her and she picked up again without much fuss.
"I was just saying that Stella had something steady. I'm not sure who he was - she'd never say - but every Thursday night she took off early to go and meet him in Sunny Brook."
"How do you know that's where she went?" I willed myself not to look at them titties.
"Well, some of the girls had a bet. Most of us didn't really believe all of Stella's crazy stories so one day - to settle the bet - I followed her from work and sure enough that's where she went."
"Did you see who she met there?"
"I didn't get a good look at the guy. All I can tell you is that he was tall and he was a fancy dresser. Looked like he had plenty of money. Say, I didn't catch your name." I could see in her eyes that this dame was falling for me big time.
"Name's Jack, Jack Welles. But everybody calls me Fats." She hung all over my words like a pair of nylons slung over the tub.
"On account of you being so goddamned fat?" Maybe I had misjudged her affection.
"Yes." I burst out of the room bawling like a little girl and headed back to my office.
I knew Estella Gaines had been a working girl but what I didn't understand was why. Sherry Finn may have doubted her exotic stories but I knew they were true. I also knew that Estella's father, Chester Gaines, had left her a sizable inheritance and an estate when he died. Now why would a girl with that much money work in a brothel? Maybe she did it for the thrill but somehow that didn't seem quite right. Estella didn't seem the type. I was drawing a blank. I was also eating a hog leg. I knew I would have to go out to Sunny Brook and see what I could turn up. But first I would finish the hog leg. And then I would have some chocolate cake. Then I would go to sleep.
Sunny Brook was a good twenty miles outside of town and I knew I couldn't afford the cab fare, I'd have to roll there. Luckily I was huge and fat and Sunny Brook was downhill from my office. I just hoped that I wouldn't roll over any dogs or babies this time.
To Be Continued. . .
Murder on the Menu
by J. Fries
It was a hot night and the air was thick and heavy, it seemed almost liquid. As I walked the atmosphere seemed to stick to me and weigh me down, like walking through a city-sized sauna wearing a terrycloth suit. If I was on any other case I would have stayed home on a night like this, the client could wait another day to find out who his wife was fraternizing with. But then I wasn't on any other case, I was on this one. I was headed for the docks to see Frankie "Sidecar" Scaldini, a lackey for the Luchesi family who could usually be counted on for a choice piece of information if the price was right. I was working this case for free so I had nothing to offer Scaldini. As a rule I never work on contingency but when the next lead you uncover could be the one that keeps you alive another day you tend to summon uncommon generosity. I only hoped that my credit with Scaldini was good enough for a freebie.
I got to the dockyard cannery, buzzed Frankie and savored a moment of rest as I waited for a response. I was a real fat ass. A tinny voice came from the intercom.
"Yeah?"
"Frankie, it's Fats." Ever since I was a fat little kid everyone had called me Fats.
"I'll buzz ya in."
I made my way up the stairs, panting heavily and stopping several times for a break. A half hour later I got to the top floor and greeted Scaldini. "I really wish you didn't work on the second floor."
"Maybe I'll install an elevator you fat fuck." Frankie chuckled to himself. His words deepened my already negative body-image but I couldn't linger on that. I had more important business to discuss, the business of staying alive.
"I love you too, Frankie. I need a favor."
"What? A pork roast?"
"Very funny. I need some information."
"Some information, huh? Let me guess, you need directions to the nearest all you can eat buffet?" He was playing hardball, luckily I had a corked bat.
"Estella Gaines. Name mean anything to you?"
"No. Did you eat her?"
"Seriously, Frankie! I really need to know! Have you heard of her or not?" I hoped he couldn't see the tears welling up in my eyes.
"Well that depends on who's asking." Scaldini was a notorious asshole.
Just then a semi-nude woman emerged from the foreman's office looking disheveled. "What's goin' on, Fran---". She trailed off when she saw me.
"I can't pay you tonight, Frankie. But if you tell me what I want to know I might be less inclined to tell your wife about the "work" you're doing down here so late." I had him.
"Get back in there! I'll be in there in a minute!" he snapped at his confused guest. "Alright, Fats. I'll tell you what I know."
Turns out Frankie didn't know much but he did tell me about a girl who might be able to give me a little more information, Sherry Finn. Miss Finn worked at a club called the Paradise Lounge, my business had taken me there many times before tailing unfaithful men for their jealous wives and girlfriends. There were only two kinds of people who went to the Paradise Lounge, suckers looking for booze and broads and con artists looking for suckers. I didn't relish the thought of going there because I was self-conscious about my weight problem and social settings tended to make this feeling even more acute. I always felt like everyone was staring at me or murmuring jokes to their friends. It sounds paranoid but you have to understand, I'm really, really fucking fat.
I paid the cabby and headed into the Paradise Lounge. Scaldini had told me what Miss Finn looked like, "5 foot ten, blonde hair, big ass titties. . .you can't miss her" he'd said. He was right. As soon as I opened the door I saw her, every bit as gorgeous as Frankie'd said. She was working a table of sailors, trying to massage their wallets with her charm. It seemed to be working, dollar bills peaked over the low-cut neckline of her red satin dress. I could tell that several people were staring at me, still I made my way to the table. "Miss Finn?"
One of the sailors stood up after I spoke. "Beat it, lard ass! She's with us tonight!" This could have gotten ugly so I played it loose. I peed in my pants. "Hey guys! Check it out, the lard ass pissed himself!" They all began laughing, slapping the table with sadistic delight at my expense. One look at Miss Finn told me that my plan had worked.
"Cut it out, you jerks! Come with me, sweetie. We'll get you all cleaned up." She had a voice like an angel and I totally wanted to slip the old bone to her. Unfortunately the "old bone" had disappeared among layers of disgusting fat years ago.
The laughter of the sailors trailed off in the distance as she led me upstairs to her room. I looked up her dress as we ascended. "Miss Finn, I need to talk to you."
"Say, do I know you?" she asked as she reached for a damp rag near a basin on her dresser.
"No, but I think you might be able to help me with something. I mean something besides my pants. I need to know if you can tell me about Estella Gaines."
"What do you want to know about Stella for?" So Frankie was telling the truth after all.
"I'm a private investigator. Miss Gaines came to see me two weeks ago about her sister and two days ago she disappeared. I'm trying to track her down. I'm afraid she may be in danger." I gave her enough information to peak her interest but I wasn't about to tip my hand just yet. What I didn't tell her was that I was just as worried about my own neck.
"There's not much I can tell you. Stella worked here off and on for about two years but she never stayed long enough for me to really get friendly with her. Seems like she was always going off someplace exotic, at least that's what she said. It always seemed to me that if she really had the money to go on all the great trips she talked about she wouldn't be working in this hell-hole."
She continued to talk as she leaned over the basin but my mind became lost in her cleavage. Her breasts called to me, begging me to touch them. Maybe it was the perfume she was wearing or maybe it was the 7 ounces of mescaline I had eaten a few hours before but I reached out and squeezed those breasts with everything I had.
"What the fuck are you doing, you obese bitch?!?" She recoiled and covered her breasts with her arms.
"I - I'm sorry! I'm really sorry! Please go on, I'm listening to you." Lucky for me she was used to this kind of thing. Years of working here had hardened her and she picked up again without much fuss.
"I was just saying that Stella had something steady. I'm not sure who he was - she'd never say - but every Thursday night she took off early to go and meet him in Sunny Brook."
"How do you know that's where she went?" I willed myself not to look at them titties.
"Well, some of the girls had a bet. Most of us didn't really believe all of Stella's crazy stories so one day - to settle the bet - I followed her from work and sure enough that's where she went."
"Did you see who she met there?"
"I didn't get a good look at the guy. All I can tell you is that he was tall and he was a fancy dresser. Looked like he had plenty of money. Say, I didn't catch your name." I could see in her eyes that this dame was falling for me big time.
"Name's Jack, Jack Welles. But everybody calls me Fats." She hung all over my words like a pair of nylons slung over the tub.
"On account of you being so goddamned fat?" Maybe I had misjudged her affection.
"Yes." I burst out of the room bawling like a little girl and headed back to my office.
I knew Estella Gaines had been a working girl but what I didn't understand was why. Sherry Finn may have doubted her exotic stories but I knew they were true. I also knew that Estella's father, Chester Gaines, had left her a sizable inheritance and an estate when he died. Now why would a girl with that much money work in a brothel? Maybe she did it for the thrill but somehow that didn't seem quite right. Estella didn't seem the type. I was drawing a blank. I was also eating a hog leg. I knew I would have to go out to Sunny Brook and see what I could turn up. But first I would finish the hog leg. And then I would have some chocolate cake. Then I would go to sleep.
Sunny Brook was a good twenty miles outside of town and I knew I couldn't afford the cab fare, I'd have to roll there. Luckily I was huge and fat and Sunny Brook was downhill from my office. I just hoped that I wouldn't roll over any dogs or babies this time.
To Be Continued. . .