Chapter 1

The Sun came pouring through the windows into the cluttered office that Mike also called home. He was cleaning his .45 Automatics when he heard the elevator stop outside the door. Since two of the offices were still vacant, and the only other office was occupied by a psychic scammer, he figured there was a fifty-fifty chance he might be getting some business momentarily.

The knock on the door was most welcome as the kitty was empty and rent was due on Friday before noon. He scooped the gun parts into the top drawer and tried to look businesslike as he opened the door.

"Mike Maloney, P.I. At your service. My secretary had to step out for the mail run."

Now, this was an out and out falsehood! Mike's sultry secretary, Veronica had been put on indefinite unpaid leave last week. She laughed when he gave her the news late Friday afternoon.

"Mike, you haven't paid me a red cent for a month anyway! You'll be calling me before the week is out."

Mike admitted to himself that Veronica was probably right. He was basically lost in the office without her. Never could find anything and he hated dealing with the creditors over the phone. But he had to answer the damn thing because it could be a new client calling with a case.

Just outside the door stood a long, lean redhead with one of those come-hither looks that always spelled Trouble with a capital T. Her tight skirt was molded to her full ass cheeks. She must have been wearing one of those new panty girdles that lifted the ass cheeks and spread them apart in a most erotic way. The gap between them was an open invitation for a hard cock. Mike's cock got the message and was pointed directly at the target. Almost hidden behind her was an extremely short, younger guy with a build that spelled out "Jockey" to all of us racetrack aficionados.

I smiled my most inviting grimace and invited them into my lair.

The redhead sashayed by me with the scent of mountain flowers and morning dew.

I offered them both a hit on my less than tasty coffee. With a look of distain at my crude coffee-making equipment, the redhead shook her head in the negative, without comment. The Jockey fixed himself a cup with no sugar and no milk. He was watching his 85 pound weight, no doubt.

"Mr. Maloney"

I cut him off. I hate being called Mr.

"Just call me Mike! No formalities needed here. And you are?"

The little guy followed my lead and nodded his head at the seductive redhead.

"That is Candy!" I couldn't agree with him more.

"And I am Marko. We are down from Saratoga for this meet with you. You got my letter?"

I looked at the stack of papers on Veronica's desk and just nodded my head in agreement.

"Listen, Mike, my Candy is in big time trouble. If she is in trouble, it means I am in trouble too. We need you to straighten this mess out. Tout suite on the QT. I got two yards here to grease your wheels."

The mention of the moola caught my attention and I stopped copping a peek at Candy's ass, which was pointed right at me, sitting sideways on my crummy office furniture.

"You got the two grand in advance?"

"Yeah, yeah, shamus. Here it is."

He handed me an envelope stuffed with fives, tens, and twenties. I could only guess where it came from, and I bet it wasn't his piggy bank. He also handed me a folder with the whole dirty story laid out. I saw some very interesting photos of Candy's ass up high in the air and the size of the big guy humping her from the rear was definitely not my new client Marko.

I saw Candy looking at me gawking at her graphic stills with a resigned look about her. It was as if she had convinced herself it was another girl or an evil twin in the pictures doing all those nasty things. Her calmness was deceptive. I could sense the emotions seething inside her. I just couldn't tell if it was anger, fear, disgust, or the realization of impending doom. I suspected it might be a combination of all of them.

I could see Marko was as jumpy as a Catholic schoolgirl waiting for permission to go pee.

"Mike! You talk it over with Candy and get the details from her. I got to go to Slick Willie's to shoot a couple games. Candy don't like that place. You two work out how you want to handle this. Just make sure she comes out smelling like a rose. My Candy and me are gonna get hitched in two months and I don't want those high brows at the Country Club to make out she is like some slut or something."

The feisty jock hot-footed it to my door and gave a thumbs up to his intended bride to be. As soon as the door closed, Candy took a flask out of her purse and poured herself a stiff one and offered me a swig. I shuddered as it went down; the little lady was drinking straight vodka and very high proof.

"Mike, don't judge me by those photos. I made some mistakes when I got here from Topeka. I was dumb, I guess, and got played by a real asshole called "Three Finger Kelly."

I knew Three Finger Kelly by reputation not personally. He was a nasty piece of work by any standard. After a nickel up the river at Sing Sing, he came back to Gotham and made his living off the shattered lives of very young girls snatched up as they got off the train in Penn station. He personally trained each girl to perform the most perverted acts with skill and a smile on their face. Candy must have been one of his victims.