Dick Steel; Private Eye

"Where did you get that kind of money Dick," Iris asked. I launched into my time at the golf course and my meeting with the judge. "Perhaps you should play golf professionally and skip the P.I. work?"

"Maybe I should," I said.

"How much did you win," Hannah asked and her mouth fell open when she heard the word thousand. "With that kind of scratch you could open your open business."

"I have my own business," I said and she shot back with something about a 'real' business. I was too tired to argue so I just waved her off and for once she took the hint and let me be. Iris tucked the envelope into her purse and headed off to the bank to deposit it while Hannah followed me to the living area and helped me get settled in. I was surprised when she didn't take advantage of the situation but I think I was still too fragile in her eyes. So she tucked me in and sat on the side of the bed. I saw the tears building and took her hand in mine. Words were going to be useless so when the torrent hit I just sat up and held her while she wept. Suddenly it all made sense! It was like a bolt out of the blue and I understood it all. I never connected the two until now, Rodney's death and her sudden interest in me. She was afraid she was going to lose both of us and did the only thing that her twisted teenage mind could conceive of, sex. I held onto her while her body shook. How long had she been holding it all in? Now it was my turn to fear that she was going to break she was crying so damn hard.

"It's okay, I'm not going anywhere," I whispered in her ear. "I'm a lot tougher than I look."

"If anything happened to you," she said between bouts of outright sobbing. As I held her I glanced around the shabby room and its hand me down style of decorating. I didn't mind so much, but I knew it bothered her to see me living like this. We grew up in an upper middle class family. We had a nice house with a real life backyard and spot for a garden on the front lawn. That was until dad's drinking got ahold of him and took his entire family down with him. There would be no college for Rodney or me so we enlisted long before the war started. It was a way of taking the financial burden off my mom and we left the little detail about seizures off our doctor's report. So when the conflict in Europe began we were well trained but as yet unbloodied. We saw things that haunted me to this very day. The mustard gas was the worst. That was a fear that lingered deep down and squirmed around in my nightmares like some hideous living cloud of death. I would find myself back on the battlefield and see the wraithlike walking dead that appeared out of the miasma of clouds that swirled and coiled like sentient mist. They were the honored dead whose faces I knew all too well. Then when Rodney passed he joined their ranks in the depths of my darkest night terrors. He wore that damned gas mask but I knew him by his eyes, my eyes staring blankly back at me. His arms would beckon me to join them in that hellish lethargic manner that was part and parcel for the Children of Morpheus. I snapped out of my reverie and god damn her she was staring at me with that harrowing concern that bit deeply into my soul.

"I am okay," I said a little too harsh. She flinched and sat back away from me. She touched my night shirt where her tears had stained it.

"You were thinking about him weren't you," she asked softly. I just nodded. "Was it the same dream?"

"Yeah, the mustard gas cloud and him and the others shambling out of it," I said and shivered.

"Maybe I should stay," she said with a hint of a smile.

"If you do, I won't get any rest," I replied giving her a wicked grin.

"You are feeling better, I can tell, but you still need some rest," she said with finality. "I will check up on you tomorrow, now get some sleep."

The bed springs creaked when she got up. I watched her as she left and enjoyed the view very much. She stopped as she opened the door and looked over her shoulder. She rewarded me with one of her dazzling smiles and then she was gone and I was alone with my thoughts. I got comfortable, closed my eyes and just let the ghosts of the past do their worst. But as I slipped into the embrace of dreams I was surprised when what I received was a memory of my long lost childhood. It was one of few times I can remember that my dad was stone cold sober and we went camping. We drove for an hour or so, but back then it felt like forever. When we finally arrived all that stored up energy went to good use helping dad set up the camp site. I could almost smell that strong pine scent in the air as we set about getting things in order. Then we headed out as our dad led us on a tour of the surrounding landscape. The path was shrouded in shadow from the canopy of dense trees on either side of the trail. The cool shade felt so good! Soon we heard the sound of running water from the brook that flowed across serpentine in its meandering path through and over and under the hilly area. We crossed one of its tiny tributaries before we reached the stream proper. The area was open and free from the confinement of the woods. You could see its path and its eventual destination Darrow Lake. It wasn't a huge body of water that the word lake often conjures no it was deep enough so that you couldn't see the bottom and therefore by definition a lake. There were hills on the eastern side of the lake while the western side was abundant with trees of several different species but mainly pine, oak and spruce. We stood there for a long time just taking in that fantastic view. Then we decided to take a hike before returning for a nice hot meal. The trek along the eastern side of the stream was exciting since we could only see so far until we topped a rise and saw what lie beyond. The hills were magical at that age, well everything was but that place especially had an enchantment laid upon it. Rodney and I were fighting dragons and ogres while my dad just sat and watched. Then we reached our turnaround point and began heading back. Of course there was the eternal argument about who had slain more bad guys and my father well he wisely let us determine the body count on our own. My brother and I settled on a tie so that we could continue onto my important things like food and watching the sun set. The sky darkened and the stars began to come out. Out here in the middle of nowhere there were a gazillion of them twinkling above us. That's when my dad set us down and began to teach us the various constellations and a few of the stories behind them. We fell in love with them, the stars I mean, and they were our constant nightly companions. It was then that the dream took on a more sinister design. It was the dark that brought out the host of the honored dead. They lumbered from the tree line and I could hear them splashing in the brook as they crossed over from the other side. The uniforms were not just American, no, there were British, French as well as German. All that had died or that I had killed on the field of battle and leading them was my twin. He was wearing his uniform and he looked as disheveled as I had ever seen him during the war. Across his features was that repugnant gas mask and behind the lenses were his vibrant eyes. That was the part of the dream I hated the most, those damn eyes of his. While everything else looked so dead, torn and decayed, Rodney's eyes were so alert and animated. Then the hellish mist appeared and began to shroud everything, including me, in its pale yellow embrace. This is the part where I usually wake up screaming. But this time I just stand up to it and take a deep lungful of air just to spite the damned thing. There was no burning or choking sensation just the strong scent of pine. The fog retreated in defeat and I slipped into deeper dreams that no man remembers.

Hong Kong:

The night was moonless and a shroud of fog added an extra layer of security to the arrival of the slave ship. The smell of salty sea air filled the short man's nostrils as he took in a deep breath and let it out slowly as he had learned at the monastery all those long years ago. The last of the tension fled his body as the ship and its lovely cargo had finally arrived. Jimmy Fong was not a superstitious man but even he was taken aback by the dark ship appearing suddenly from the fog bank. There was only the soft creaking sound of the wood as the sailors aboard the ship and his own men worked to tie off the vessel. Jimmy was old, worn and aged to the point of antiquity itself and yet despite his age and life style he was surprisingly fit. He still moved with an energy and grace that defied his years and his heavy addiction to opium. If it hadn't been for the arrival of the shipment he would even now be Chasing the Dragon in his favorite opium den the Jade Tiger. The owner of said establishment was the formidable Tong chieftain Sunny Wang. He gained the nickname from the first man he ever killed. It is said in every variation of this famous tale that Wang smiled through the entire confrontation and even chuckled as he cut the head off his victim. So he gained the nomiker and reputation of a stone cold killer. Jimmy narrowed his eyes as the gangplank was shoved over the gap between ship and shore. There was silence and stillness for a very long time and then there came the soft musical sound of metal on metal. Jimmy rubbed his hands together as the fog swirled and the first of the round eyed slaves came into view. The sound of her chains was indeed music to his ears. As she drew nearer he could make out more and more detail and despite her initial shabby appearance he could see the beauty beneath the filth and tears. This blonde haired beauty would fetch a small fortune on the black market. Then the next girl appeared behind her and then the next one and so forth until all fifty girls had paraded past him in utter silence. Jimmy's men led them to the waiting vehicles where they would be driven to the Clearing House and from there their fates were sealed. The captain of the slave ship strode through the fog and shook hands with Jimmy. They were old acquaintances and had done business many times.

"How fares the Tai Pan," Jimmy asked as the two men walked down the wharf towards a waiting car.

"Mr. Tresillion sends his warmest regards," the American said grinning evilly.

"This crop is far superior to the last shipment," the elderly man said as he stroked the bone white beard that hung long, so long in fact it almost touched his waist.

"He had some good hunting this past month," the captain replied. "New York and Albany were especially kind in that regards."

The two men slipped into the waiting vehicle and headed off to celebrate their good fortune. No one saw the solitary figure that stole onboard the ship on bare feet. No one heard the silent figure's passage from shore to ship and no one would discover the stowaway until they dropped anchor again on the other side of the world. Desperation drives and motivates an animal and the human animal is no different.

Chicago: Autumn

Some investigations last longer than others. I had to hand it to this guy; he was devilishly clever in his rendezvous with my client's friends. I had staked them out one by one and still I had no sign he was sleeping with any of Ms. Moorcock's companions. Maybe it was because he was actually faithful. I finally got the break in the case I was waiting for but it didn't happen in any way I could have foreseen. It was three weeks into the investigation with weekly updates delivered to the client at scheduled meetings at a swanky restaurant, an exclusive club and the latest on her father's boat. I was headed down to the lake when I passed the Tesla Tower on my way. It dominated the skyline and who would have thought just twenty years ago that an immigrant engineer would have created an inexpensive energy source that could power an entire city. Sure there were several of those towers all over the city but they provided enough power for even the ravenous citizens of Chicago. I remembered when my parents took me down to St. Louis for the World's Fair. There was the man himself Nikola Tesla and his famed Tesla Tower. It had provided all the power needs for the entire fair. Since then the technology had gotten more efficient and smaller. There was still an energy war between Edison and Tesla but the Midwest stood firmly behind the genius who had provided so much for so little. The east coast still suffered from rolling black outs when the drain became too great for Edison's direct current power plants. The legislation for changing over to Tesla's technology had been voted down by those who stood the most to lose if it ever took hold. But I figured it was just a matter of time before the inconvenience became too much to bear and the citizens demanded a change. I arrived at the private dock where Moorcock and other of Chicago's wealthiest kept their water craft. I got out, went to passenger side and opened the door for Iris. I had brought her along to help ease the tension between my client and myself. As we approached the yacht another car pulled up. I turned to watch the stunning redhead who was the chauffeur get out and open the door for her employer. He stood up and I felt a cold shiver race up my spine. I recognized him at once. He was none other than Arthur Tresillion, the most connected man in all of Chicago. He was close friends with the Mayor, the Governor as well as a plethora of other powerful individuals. He smiled at me as he strode up the path towards the ship. He was an impressive individual with an athletic build and had a distinct aura even from a distance. His dark hair and bright blue eyes were a striking contrast and gave him that rugged good looks women adored. There was also something harsh and uncaring about the way he looked at Iris. It was as if he thought of her with nothing but contempt. I turned and continued my way back up the gangplank to the ship. I was met by the always jovial and sensuous Danielle Moorcock, my client. I shook her hand as she led us to the front of the craft. Meanwhile her father Eric met his guest for the trip around the lake and guided him to the rear of the boat. Fifteen minutes later the Moon Runner was well under way and we had settled down to a light meal and business as usual. Iris retrieved a large brown envelope from her purse and handed it to me. I set it on the table between Danielle and me. I paused to collect my thoughts and prepare a way of telling her the bad news.

"Well, this is going to be our last meeting," I said as calmly as I could.

"You said that on the phone," Danielle replied. "You sounded a little upset. I knew that you were the right man to hire for this little project."

"This envelope holds photos that prove the case without doubt," Iris said coolly. "I took the pictures myself. I am just concerned you may not be happy with us after you see them and here we are on this fine boat of yours."

"Not mine, it belongs to my father," Danielle said her cheerful mask slipping for just an instant. Then she was smiling again. "I don't blame you for what happened. I hired you to find out something and as you said these photos will reveal the unvarnished truth." I nodded and pushed the envelope towards her but she held up her hand with the palm facing outward. "But before we hear the bad news why don't I give you a tour of the Moon Runner?"

"That would be lovely," Iris said before I could even react to Danielle's desire to delay the inevitable.

Her father's boat was over a hundred feet long and had both sails as well as engines. The Moon Runner was built not only for luxury but speed as well. As I looked out over the lake I could see we were doing a healthy clip across the surface of the water. As we neared the rear of the craft I could make out voices and they didn't sound to be in good spirits at all.

"I am warning you Eric, don't fight me on this," Arthur said as we steadily drew nearer.

"Arthur this is madness," the elder Moorcock shot back even as his daughter called out giving them a moment to collect themselves.

"Father, I am bringing my guest back for a tour," Danielle cried out.

"Oh by all means," he replied his voice straining to return to calm. "Have a drink with us won't you?"

The two men were seated and while Eric tried to appear civil Arthur Tresillion was obviously quite agitated. I held a chair for both Iris and Danielle before sitting down. One of the crew appeared and offered us drinks. You wouldn't think prohibition touched this part of the world as we sipped French champagne and made light talk. I sat between Arthur and Iris and once more felt the cold chill run up and down my spine. I failed to suppress a shiver and Arthur found it quite interesting. I saw his eyes narrow as he looked at me.

"So how is the sleuthing business Richard," Arthur asked after a long awkward silence.

"Can't complain," I said. "It pays the bills and you Arthur how is the entertainment industry?"

"I am working on expanding my business," he said as he turned his attention to Eric again.

"Negotiating," Iris asked and Arthur turned on her as if he had been slapped. Did he really hate women as much as he let on? Then with great control he smiled and nodded. "You and Al have a falling out?" This time Iris' words struck him like tempered steel. The color drained from his face and he grabbed the arms of the deck chair so tight his flesh turned white. I glanced over at Iris and knew she had been busy at the library again. The Al she was referring to could only be Al Capone. I looked over at Eric and he was actually smiling.

"Your reputation for information gathering is well deserved Missy," Tresillion said once he had gathered his composure. "Maybe you should come work for me?" Iris paused and appeared to be pondering the offer when she shook her head and smiled.

"I couldn't do that to Richard," she said with a sensuality that curled my toes. "What would he do without me?"

"What indeed," Arthur said locking his gaze on Iris. She never flinched and just kept on smiling. This combined with her earlier comment brought him to his feet and propelled him to the front of the vessel.

"Was it something I said," Iris said gripping my hand harder than I would have expected. I squeezed her hand reassuringly even as the crew member returned with our next round of drinks. Iris grabbed hers and mine and gulped them down like they were water. She gave me an apologetic smile but I just smiled knowing that her encounter with Tresillion had left her shaken. Then as if some hidden signal had been given Danielle stood up and tossed off the light terry cloth robe she was wearing to reveal what she was wearing beneath and it was something. I had heard of bikinis of course but I never saw one outside one of Iris' fashion magazines. Danielle was sporting an imported French bikini that hugged her curvaceous body like a second skin. While it covered up the best parts it left quite a lot of skin exposed. Iris elbowed me in the ribs but also had to admire what good shape the young lady was in.

"I'm going to get some sun," Danielle said as she moved to exposed portion of the deck where other chairs were available.

"Not too much dear you don't want to burn that perfect complexion of yours," her father said. Then the elder Moorcock turned his full attention to Iris. "You young lady are either the bravest soul I have ever met or the most foolish. I haven't decided yet."

"Neither have I," Iris replied her voice still a little shaky. She squeezed my hand again and gave me a look that spoke volumes, she was scared to death of Arthur and for good reason people with much more clout than Iris had said the wrong thing and simply disappeared or so the stories went.

"I got you," I said and she smiled.

Tresillion returned after a ten minute hiatus and he seemed like his old self. Iris rose and joined Danielle at the rear of the ship. Arthur watched her go and smiled like some predator stalking his prey. I thought about warning him but that might just antagonize him and worsen an already poor situation. So I stuffed down my resentment of the man and sipped my booze quietly. Arthur took his old seat and looked over at Eric and smiled again. He launched into the previous conversation they had been having as if I wasn't even there. They were negotiating some sort of settlement and Eric was fighting him tooth and nail. I suspected that the elder Moorcock was trying to keep Tresillion from acquiring any stock options on his legitimate business holdings. That sort of thing was bad for business, real bad. So as I sat there mutely observing the titans battle it out I could hear the girls giggling about something or other behind me. The friendly demeanor that had been thinly covering the rotted core of Arthur Tresillion was suddenly torn away as he lost his temper. The big man sprung to his feet and snarled at Eric. Then he uttered the words that ended our little outing right then and there.