Ongoing noir story...

[MrNewportCustom]

The sound of the rain, wipers and hissing of the tires on the wet road made for quite a little rhythm. Not a very good one, mind you, but enough to help clear my mind of a few things that didn't matter. Such as the cabbie's incessant chatter about the Dodgers most recent loss.

Three minutes later, I was at the front door of the Twilight Hotel. As I got out, the cabbie told me the fare. I tossed him a buck and told him to keep the change.

"You owe me another quarter, Mac," he said.
"Alright, then," I said, "I'll keep the change."
"What are you, one of the Marx Brothers?"
"Yeah. Groucho," I said.
"Very funny! You said you'd make it worth my while, Mac," he said.
"I did. You didn't get a ticket, did you? I saved you that much," I said as I tossed another four bits into the cab and walked away.

I didn't go into the hotel. Instead I went around back. There were two cars back there that I recognized. One had very recently contained the beautiful stranger who had accosed me in the bar. The other looked like it may have recently transported a very large man with a very large cannon that had also recently been aimed in my general direction. I felt the hood on each of the cars. They were both warm.

I headed for room 314.


Lee

 

[DW Evans]

At this point, the angels were crying for me more so than ever. But I wasn't looking for sympathy, only answers. Nonetheless, I found myself swimming to the back door. I turned the knob but nothing happened. I momentarily closed my eyes and tried to remember the social back and forth that occurred on the candlestick. My memory lapsed. I'm beginning to think there never was a conversation. Suddenly the building quaked and an explosion ripped through the midnight skyline. I grew cold and felt it time to turn on the heater. My baby sang beautifully and lead me through the obstruction.

The play wasn't over but the curtain was about to fall...

 

[scotrace]

You kids may enjoy this tale from when we did this before:

Ongoing Story from '05

 

[Jack Scorpion]

Room 314. The suite. Reginald Dint's permanent loaner. I don't think he ever even slept in it, but he owned the whole joint. Why not save the best room for himself?

The splintered door floated open into the spacious, lavish common room. The lamps were all on, but I didn't hear a sound. Sirens played fetch out in the city, but even those sounds were muffled, distant. The windows must all be closed.

I didn't waste any time entering the place and pulling the door in a closed position behind me. When I safely tucked myself behind some curtains, I began to reload the pistol. My eyes never left every entrance in the room.

Suddenly, the sirens grew louder, as if the ambulance trucks had closed a five mile distant in one gust of wind. I knew why. I could feel the breeze, too. Somewhere in the suite, a window had just been opened.

 

[Midnight Palace]

Suddenly my guard was up that much higher. How did I not hear the window open? Did I still have company or had they floated into the night amongst the sirens? I wasn't sure. I gripped my .45 so tight that my knuckles whitened. My jaw was clenched and my heart was racing. I wasn't going to lie, I was nervous, but as I said, I never back down from a challenge. I took a step out from behind the curtains and looked around suspiciously. Nothing.........at least not that I could see.

Just then my mind swirled with odd thoughts about the name of this place, The Twilight Hotel. Twilight. That short period of uncertainty, night and day fighting with each other for the rights to the moment. I stood right in the middle of the struggle, room 314. I tried to shake myself back into reality, I couldn't be caught sleeping. Danger is looking for me, it always has been. Tonight was no different, I thought for a moment that...

(glass breaking in the near distance)

My head spun around, locking eyes with another shadowy figure. Was it the same one from the street near Reggie's body? For a minute we stood and stared at each other like gunfighters waiting for the strike of 12. I couldn't make out a face, but I could make out the gun.

 

[Maj.Nick Danger]

"Uhhmm,...don't shoot Jimmy! It's only me,... Danger,...Nick Danger. What are you doin' here?! That dame Audrey hired me for this caper, and you're in enough hot water with the cops as it is. What do you know about all this?"

(Author's note: I couldn't resist. )

 

[Nashoba]

‘Aw hell, Nick’, I groaned as I slipped the Misses back into my belt. ‘You know better than to sneak up on a guy, another second and I’d be talking to a corpse’
Nick grinned sheepishly. He and I went way back. We’d both lost our wives to the same smooth talking g-man. Only his had ended up in the East River and mine had gone….well saying she had a psychotic break would be putting it nicely.

‘Good to see after all these years I can still keep the likes of you on your toes. You know they’re looking for you Jimmy’

“Yeah, you want to tell me who? And who’s Audrey?” The questions were mounting up faster than the answers. I needed a drink. I needed two. I sat down on a couch that was overstuffed and reeked of decadence. Nick lowered his gun and sighed.

“You really have no idea what’s going on Jimmy?”

“Not a clue Nick. Wanna help a guy out?”

Nick smiled. It was rare for him to have the upper hand against me, and I knew he was going to savor every minute. I braced myself for what I could only imagine wouldn’t be good news. Nick crossed the room to the bar and poured us a couple of drinks.

“Drink up Jimmy, you’re going to need it after you hear this”

I laughed bitterly. "Well then, you'd better pour me two"

 

[Midnight Palace]

He sat two glasses on the table in the corner and poured us both a double. I could still see the smug look on his face. We both knew he had a bomb to drop and I just didn't want it to land on me. I really didn't want to be involved, but I felt I had no choice in the matter. I felt like a puppet with strings coming out of my back. Perhaps this rotten job was pulling the strings. But what else could I do? I took the glass in my hand and stared at Nick.

"Lay it on me. Enough of this nonsense", I said.

His expression changed. He wasn't smug or sarcastic. I could tell. He was mixed - afraid, concerned and serious. After taking a quick swig, he wiped the excess booze from his lips and reached for a smoke in his jacket pocket.

"Jimmy", he said. "Audrey was questioned in a murder years ago and eventually found innocent. But right now, she may be a victim too. From what I've learned over the past hour, you might be better off dead than involved in this. I know we go back and that's the only reason I'm tipping you off. But after this, I'm getting out of the city."

 

[Nashoba]

I heaved a sigh and stared at the floor. I knew Nick was waiting for an answer, a question, anything but I didn’t have it.

“What did you get yourself into Jimmy?”

Nick’s voice sounded distant, muffled. Like I was hearing through the fog of too much scotch. Maybe I was. Nothing was making sense. I hadn’t done anything, jeez I hadn’t even left the office that day. I tried to go over what I knew in my head. What I could remember anyway. The Dodgers had lost, Britany Bint had gone missing, Reggie had died at my feet. None of the evidence, none of the clues was leading me any closer to figuring out what the hell was going on around here. I hadn’t done anything. At least nothing I could remember. Then I remembered. The phone had rung….I felt the lump under my hat and tried to remember who had been on the other end. That phone call had to be the key. All at once the light bulb light up. It had been Reggie! Panic stricken and sounding like a frightened kid and cowering like a whipped dog. The fog started to clear as I threw back the liquor and motioned for Nick to pour me another double.

Reggie had wanted me to look into Brit’s disappearance. The mob had been tightening their noose around his neck and he was starting to feel the pressure. But where did I figure in? Looking into the disappearance of his kid didn’t warrant the insanity that the day had turned into. I could tell Nick was getting restless, something was eating at him. He knew more than he was telling. As pieces began to slowly fall into place, I slipped the .45 back into my hand.

“Nick, I”….my thought was interrupted by the soft click of a door. We both spun around weapons drawn prepared for whatever had just walked through. Little did I know how unprepared I was. Emerald green eyes stared back at me from beneath a black veiled velvet hat that floated over perfectly coifed auburn locks. My eyes traveled down over the dress that hugged every curve in the best possible way and my heart sank. Elaine.

“Hello Jimmy, it’s been a long time.” Her voice was like a hot knife through butter. “You gonna shoot a girl for walking into a room?”

Nick and I watched silently as my wife crossed into the room. Nick started to lower his gun and I shot a warning look his direction. I didn’t trust her.

“When did they let you out Lainy? I didn’t think they let the psychos out after dark”

She slowly turned and smiled. God she was beautiful when she smiled.

“I know what happened out there tonight. And I know where Britany Bint is. They’re figuring you for her father’s murder darling. She’s the only one who can clear your ‘good’ name. So how ‘bout you lower your precious piece and let little Lainy help you?”

I softened my stance a little but kept the Misses trained between her two shining emeralds.

“I’m listening”

 

[Jack Scorpion]

Nick took a bold step forward and held the gun out, ready. "How about a cigarette, first, Elaine?" With his other hand, he reached into his coat for the chesterfields.

Elaine's expression turned to stone.

"Jimmy's nose has never been quite the same since the war," Nick explained, "You knew that, but you didn't expect me to be here, too. I smelled the gas right away."

I turned suddenly to Nick. Gas?

Nick answered my unspoken question. "I turned the stove off as soon as I entered. I opened a window and broke another. But that wasn't the way it was supposed to go, was it Elaine?"

Green eyes avoided my gaze. She stared at Nick. "You don't know what you're talking about, Danger. Why would I come here?"

"You heard the window break," I interrupted. "And to think for a second there I mistook your sinister shadow for beauty. Is this going to be 4 years ago all over again, Elaine? I need to know everything, now, and I need it all on the level." And I really wanted a cigarette.

 

[carter]

Hell, I wanted two and a hookah.
Elaine looked at Nick and languidly extended one perfect arm. Her palm opened as those fingers, God those fingers, beckoned.
Nick hesitated for a moment, then he decided. Carefully he handed the Chesterfields to Elaine. He'd decideded to hang on to the rod.
A smile ghosted across those impossibly full lips as Elaine took his smokes and turned to me. Gliding across carpet deep as the mess I was in, her heels sinking in as those incredible legs did things to her dress I remembered all to well, she turned on the wattage. Now there was enough candlepower in the room to light up a city block. The Lindy in my head kicked back into high gear. It felt like a dance marathon was coming and the band hadn't even begun to play. Was it Elaine or the hooch or both? All I know is Kruppa was hammering out a rhythm that wouldn't quit. Something had to give.
It was Elaine. Slowly she shook two smokes from the pack, lifted her veil, and put both between those lips. Then she stood there, cocked an eyebrow, and looked at me.
Mutely I reached to the table beside me and picked up a lighter shaped like a trout. I flicked it and extended the lghter as Elaine leaned over and, never taking her eyes from mine, lit first one and then the other. A sardonic stare accompanied the Chesterfield she placed between my lips. Smoke drifted from her nostrils.
Elaine straightened, removed her smoke and observed, "Nice trout Jimmy. Practicing your backcast lately?".
We'd forgotten Nick. "Hey Jimmy, wasn't Reggie the Mint a bigtime fisherman?"
"Yeah," said Elaine, "He liked to practice Catch and Release. Maybe he was angling for the wrong fish."

 

[MrNewportCustom]

I sat in silence. I didn't know what Nick and Elaine were saying or doing, because I was lost in my own fog of thought. I stared at the carpet. My mind raced from tonight, to the carpet and back to tonight. It was like when I read while I'm tired; I read the same sentence over and over while my head is in seventeen other places. I couldn't hold a thought any longer than I could a greased pig.

A light tap on my shoulder brought me around. It was Nick. He handed me the second drink. I took it and held it with both hands. I put my elbows on my knees and looked into it. I began to feel it was I who was angling for the wrong fish.

The scent of the scotch tickled my nose like a stripper's feather boa. I was confused. I was confused until I realized what it was I couldn't smell. Not because my nose was bad, it wasn't - this beezer could smell a fresh-cut apple inside a closed house a mile away, up wind.

I didn't smell any gas. I was in the apartment before Nick had opened any windows, and I didn't smell it then, either. But I smelled something else. I got up from the couch and walked across to the bedroom. I held the doorknob in my hand, but didn't turn it. Not yet. I looked back at Nick and Elaine. They were looking at me. Their demeanor had changed ever so slightly. Not enough that any Joe Doakes on the street would see, but I'd known them for years and I could see it.

I turned the knob and entered the bedroom, the door rubbing agaist the thick carpet. The room was filled with smoke and the stench of explosives. Bits and pieces of clothing smouldered on the carpet and on the bed. I went to the closet and pushed aside what was left of the suits and shirts. The door of the wall safe was hanging precariously by one mangled hinge. It's contents were destroyed, except for a small metal box. It was about six inches by six inches by four inches tall. The small brass lock still held.

I looked back at the door. Nick was there, looking at me, his gun aimed at my gut. Elaine was behind him. Two fish, I thought. Two rotten, smelly fish. I lost my appetite for alcohol.

"Yeah, Nick," I said, "What have I gotten myself into?"

I hurled the glass at his face and dove behind the bed, pulling Misses out as I hit the floor.



Lee

 

[carter]

Two shots rang out. One shattered the lamp on the nightstand. The other put a big hole in Reggie's wall. I fired a slug from Misses just to keep Danger honest. Who was I kidding? I was dusted with plaster and glass and I'd hit my head on the nightstand. The Lindy had shifted to a Jitterbug, my ears were ringing, and the expensive tufted mattress between Danger and me was softer than Lainy on her best night. Let's face it, I was stuck like the proverbial fish in a barrel.
Smoke drifted in the air as silence filled the room. Had I actually hit Danger? What about Lainy?
A silken voice cut through the smoke and down my spine which hadn't turned to jelly just yet. "Come on out Jimmy, the coast is clear."
Cautiously I raised my head above the bed, Misses wasn't far behind. It was the dame from the bar looking cool as a cucumber as she covered Danger and Lainy with a 25 Cal Colt. She had the drop on them with her ladies' purse rod.
"Get the box Jimmy and make it quick. We don't have much time and there's a bit of a drive ahead of us before dawn." We? Who was this dame and where was she taking me? I didn't know but she was holding all the cards and I wanted to see this hand through. It was time to fish or cut bait.
"What about those two?"
"Take Danger's rod. You won't be needing it Nicky. Tie and gag them and leave them on the bed. There's a big fella coming that'll be glad to see them."
While she kept them covered, I snagged "Nicky's" rod and stuck it in my waistband. Then I gagged them both with washcloths and trussed them up face-to-face with drapery cord. Sorry Reggie but your place was looking pretty ragged by now anyway. Hope you have a heavenly housekeeper.
We left them on the bed. This dame may have said I was her poison but Danger was in bed with a viper.
I grabbed the box and weighed it in my hand. Not too heavy. What was in here that encouraged the homewrecking duo? I needed to know.
She extended her shoulderbag, "drop it in here, Jimmy, we gotta go now!"
Did I trust her? Did I have a choice?
Footsteps on the stairwell leading to the emergency exit door and the echoing sirens cutting through the rainswept night answered my questions for now.
"C'mon, Doll, this way."
I led the way out Reggie's bedroom window and onto the fire escape. It was slippery and wet but it was our only choice. I stayed close to her as we descended just to make sure she didn't take a tumble. Besides, the view was swell.
As the final section clattered to the alley below, we could see flashing lights on the street ahead. I swung down and caught her as she followed. She placed her hands on my shoulders and lowered herself down. I was suddenly aware of every curve. She paused for just a moment and caught her breath. The tip of her tounge appeared over perfect teeth and moistened her lips. Her eyes held a wicked glitter. She was enjoying this.
She stepped back and looked me over. "Why Jimmy, I do believe you got plastered," she breathed at me. That thing in my spine happened all over again.
She slipped the bag from her shoulder and removed a key ring as she handed me the bag. "Here, you hold this. I'll drive," she said as she turned away from the street and led me down the alley.

 

[MrNewportCustom]

I took her bag without thinking and watched her turn toward the parking lot. I stood there like a big dummy, my head swimming, dust covering me and, hell, I was holding a purse. I felt the weight of Nick's gun in it. I also felt like a fool.

I'm the detective here. Who is this dame and what's she doing taking my case? I held her purse up and looked at it. Feeling even more the fool, I dropped it back down to my side and slapped some of the dust from my clothes with my free hand. I caught some in my lungs and coughed once. I started after her.

She was a fast walker. When I finally caught up with her, she was opening the hood of the Buick that had contained Hugo the Mungus and his driver. She pulled a hankerchief from somewhere, reached in and pulled something out. Then she went to the Ford and did the same.

"They won't be needing these," she said as she underhanded the distributor wires behind some nearby trash cans. She slammed the hood down and I wondered, just briefly, why I hadn't seen Hugo and his cannon. Then she went to a third car, a Hudson convertible, and stood by the driver's door, looking at me. I looked at her.

"What," I asked quietly.

She looked at the car door and then back at me. What with everything dancing around drunkenly in my head, I was forgetting my gentlemanly duties. Hell, I was lucky to remember my own name at this point. I walked around and grabbed the handle. Nothing happened. She dangled keys in front of my face and smiled. I was in no mood for games, but this dame was one swell looker. So I tried to be gentle when I yanked the keys from her hand.

I went around to the passenger side, opened the door, and tossed her purse on the passenger seat. I looked at her over the roof of the car. She turned her head forward and looked at nothing in particular. I leaned against the canvas of the roof.

"I'll open the door for you," I said "but I'll be damned if I'm going to carry you over here. Not the way I'm feeling."

"The way you're feeling is why I'm driving," she said, turning to face me again. "Besides, you don't know where we're going. Do you?"

"I will when you tell me. You can give directions. Can you?" Her brow knitted a little. "Besides," in cintinued, "the drive will clear my head." It was my turn to smile at her. She rolled her eyes and walked around the front of the car. I held the door for her and closed it when she was in.

I drove carefully, so as not to attract the attention of the police and firemen who had gathered around the front of the building. She directed me east, away from the Twilight, and then south on Third until we met the main highway. From there we went west until water and sand forced us to go north. She was good at giving directions.

We stopped for coffee and a sandwich in the Palisades, and then continued north. After a while, the clouds began to clear. So did my head. A full moon peeked out from time to time and the ocean air helped keep things cool. The dance marathon was almost over and I was finally in the lead.

I asked her who she was, and she told me Roberta Samson, and that she was the first woman to hold her position in the FBI. It had taken a lot of struggle, but she'd made it. I was surprised, to say the least. She showed me her badge and told me she'd been on the Bint case for three weeks, and that Britany's disappearance was more than just a coincidence: it wasn't a kidnapping and she hadn't run away. She also assured me that, although she'd been hard to handle at first, Britany was alive and in good hands. We drove on.

Two hours later we were in Santa Barbara.


Lee
________________________________

Wondering if anyone gets my "Britany Bint" joke.

 

[carter]

At least it wasn't raining and I didn't expect a hail of lead in this ersatz Mediterranian burg. Whitewashed stucco and red tile roofs may have looked swell but I needed flapjacks, bacon, and a cuppa joe along with some answers from Miss Samson.
"Look Roberta, I don't know about you but I feel like I just spent two weeks in a coal mine and the canary wasn't singing. I need to wash-up and eat. Then I want to know what's in that box in your bag and why we're in this little slice of sun-drenched heaven."
"Why Jimmy, if she didn't know better, a girl would think you didn't like her company."
"The company's just dandy agent Samson, just a little more lethal than usual. Now where do we eat?"
A smile creased her lips, "Turn left up ahead on State, Jimmy. Mama knows a good little place in the 400 block. It's called Sol's. It doesn't look like much but don't let it's looks fool you." .
Even in the rosy light of morning , Sol's looked like even less than Roberta had led me to expect. "Considering that just about everyone's 'looks' over the last 24 hours have fooled me, why should this be any exception? Bring your bag, I'm a little light. Anyway, you invited me on this little road trip." I slammed my door for punctuation as I got out and pocketed the keys. No way was I giving Roberta a chance to dump me in this burg. I shook out my jacket and smacked my fedora, hell, I needed to bash something.
Roberta took her own sweet time exiting the Cord. When she did, she'd brushed her hair, touched-up her make-up, freshened her lipstick, had her bag, and looked way better than I felt. As her door clicked shut, she grinned at me across the hood. "Thank's for getting my door Jimmy. Just leave it unlocked. I have everything we need in my bag." Without pausing, she turned and walked to the door. She was ready for Sol's. Was Sol's ready for her?
Shaking my head, I walked in behind Roberta. I must have been a really swell sight for sore eyes. Every eye in the joint was glued on me. On second thought, maybe it was Roberta they were looking at.
"C'mon Roberta, let's sit down. I'm too tired to make an entrance right now."
"OK groucho, follow me," she said as she led me to a corner table in the rear of the dining room. I noticed that she took the chair facing the door and laid her bag on the table with the opening by her right hand. Clever girl.
A waitress approached our table, coffee pot in hand. We both nodded and she poured steaming java into heavy ceramic mugs. I glance at Roberta as I ordered, "two eggs, over easy, bacon, rye toast.'
"I'll have the same," Roberta said as she watched me dump three sugar cubes and some cream in my cuppa. She watched as I stirred and took my first sip. "Why Jimmy, I wouldn't have pegged you for a sweet tooth." Her lips quirked as those eyes glinted merrily at me. Why the hell was she so damned perky?
"Yeah, my mother says it's one of my most endearing qualities. Another is bathing. So, tell me Agent Samson, how does a dame like you end up with a guy like me having breakfast in Santa Barbara?"
Roberta sighed, "Ok Jimmy, you want the long vesion or the short version?"
"The Cliff Notes'll do fine for now." I took another slug of molasses.
"'I'm an only child. My parents wanted more but were told that my mother could only have the one. My dad really wanted a son. They even had a name picked out, Robert Fawcett Samson. When I showed up instead, they made the best of the situation and named me Roberta. My Mom and Dad raised me to be independent and speak my mind. My Dad taught me all the things a father teaches his daughter and some things he teaches his son. I grew up hunting, fishing, biking and going to an all girls school. By the time I graduated and went on to college, I was as accustomed to adrenaline as most men. Mom has a brother who's a sheriff up north and I'd spend summers with my aunt and uncle on their ranch in Oregon. I was attracted to a career in law enforcement. The rest, as they say is history."
Our food arrived and the conversation waned as we both dug in. Roberta may have looked like a dame off a runway but she had a healthy appetite. She also had the metabolism to go with it.
I pushed my plate away as the waitress refilled our coffee. Three more cubes and some cream followed. "Ok, so you're a natural. What'd your Dad call you for short?"
Roberta rolled her eyes and muttered something that sounded like, "Bob."
"What?"
"Bob."
"You've got to be kidding."
"No I'm not! Anyway, what's wrong with Bob?" Was that smoke coming from those adorable nostrils?
"Whoa, whoa, there's nothing wrong with Bob. It's just that you don't look like a 'Bob'. I'm just a little surprised. I'll get used to it." I smiled as I picked up the check and handed it to her.
Without a word, 'Bob' took the check in her left hand and reached into her bag. I sure hoped there wouldn't be a gun at the end of it when she pulled it out.
She laid some bills on the table as she rose and picked up her bag.
"C'mon Jimmy, it's time to go. We need to see a man about a horse."
I hurried after her as she stormed out the door. Why was she so sore?
"Hey, BOB, where are we going?"
"Stearn's Pier. Now get over here and open my door!"
I opened her door and she climbed in. She slammed the door to save me the trouble.
"Who're we seeing about a horse at Stearn's Pier?" I asked as I slid under the steering wheel and cranked my window down. It was getting warmer in more ways than one. I was hoping the volcano seated beside me wouldn't erupt.
"I'll tell you on the way," she snapped. "Now please start the car and just drive."

 

[carter]

I drove as Roberta gave terse directions to Stearns Pier. She was about as cheery as a mongoose in a monsoon. I wasn't feeling too spiffy myself but I'd been fed and watered. Now I wanted some answers. I lit a Chesterfield and smoked it in the deafening silence. "Look Bo..."
"Look, Jimmy, let's just drop the Bob. OK?" She wasn't kidding.
"Fine, how should I address you?"
"Roberta will be just fine."
"How 'bout Agent Samson, Sir?"
"Don't push it Jimmy." Was there a hint of laughter in there somewhere? I sure hoped so. It'd been a long night and we didn't need to have an even longer day.
"Turn left here. That's the pier up ahead."
"Where should I park?"
"Anywhere near that boat over there will be fine." Roberta indicated a weathered trawler.
As I slowed to a stop, Roberta said, "Here's the skinny. This scow is for hire most days and actually does a little commercial fishing every now and then. We're going to see a man named Paddy. Likes to be called 'Skipper'. Word is, his day charters down to Baja are way more profitable than his commercial fishing, if you get my drift."
I may be slow but even I know that a lot of unlicensed, illicit, and probably illegal trade worked the North-South-North coastal routes. Looked like Paddy was in the trade. I figured I was here to back up Roberta. What I couldn't figure was why not the feds or local cops.
As we walked up the pier, a guy in a Greek fisherman's cap the color of 20 year-old barnacles walked out of the wheel house. He stood on deck watching as we approached.
"Hi ya Agent Samson, long time no see." This guy looked like twelve leagues of bad rope. I wondered why he'd dropped anchor here.
"That's right, Paddy. Still keeping your nose clean?" Paddy shifted his feet and reached in his pocket. Roberta stopped. Her right hand reached casually into her bag. I stepped to my right so I had a clear view of Paddy.
Paddy's eyes squinted as he pulled a half-smoked stogie from his pocket. He leaned forward as Roberta pulled her lighter from the bag.
Paddy inhaled, never looking away from Roberta. Then he straightened and smiled as he blew out a cloud of the worst cigar smoke in the civilized world. I wondered what it smelled like before he put it in his pocket.
"Who's the muscle?" He glanced my way.
"No muscle, Paddy, just a friend." (Thanks a bunch Roberta.)
"So whaddayawant? I ain't been in no trouble," he paused, "lately."
"That's good, Paddy. I need you to do something for me."
"I ain't in that business no more."
Roberta smiled, "I hope not Paddy, for your sake. Permission to come aboard, Skipper?"
Paddy considered for a moment, "Both of ya?"
"Yeah, both of us. Or we can get the locals and come back later. You decide."
"Awright, permission to come aboard, but don't touch nothin'."
We boarded and I glanced around. The Skipper didn't have to worry about me. Even tired, rumpled, in need of a bath and a shave, I didn't want anything on this scow touching me.
Roberta pulled the box from her bag. "Paddy, I want you to give me the key to this box and I want you to do it now."