Sam Spade 00: Case of the Missing Daughter

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Sam Spade sent to find Cindy and bring her back.
10.5k words
4.42
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Part 1 of the 28 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 07/06/2017
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This story is copyrighted 2008 by Kaereni, may not be excerpted, reprinted, reproduced, or reposted in any form without the express written consent of the author. Visitors to this web site may read or temporarily download pages but are not permitted to modify or re-distribute them.

The story may contain sexual activities and situations that are to be read only by readers above the legal age of consent. All characters in this story are above the legal age of consent. The story is not to be read in locations where such stories are illegal. If you are not of legal age, or live in the wrong place, please do not read.

Author's note: This story is the prequel to the Sam Spade series.

Sam Spade: Case of the missing daughter by Kaereni

I have always hated pickup jobs. Next to staking out a motel and snapping shots of cheating men and women, pickups were the worst. And yet, a girl's got to pay the bills. Of all the types of cases, going and finding mommy's and daddy's little darling who ran away paid the best. Though inevitably, the little darling who never did anything wrong ended up being a demon spawn in reality.

I was sitting behind my desk throwing cards into my hat when the intercom buzzed. "Sam... A Mister and Misses Jameson are here to speak to you about their missing daughter," said a tiny voice from the box.

Sighing I leaned forward and flicked the talk button and said, "I will be with them in a minute." Standing I picked up the cards and my hat. As I tucked my hair up under the hat I could hear a man's voice asking why I did not use proper video intercoms like other people. It was right then that I decided I did not need the money that bad. I could always eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for a while longer.

Sitting down I leaned back in my chair and put my feet up on the desk before pushing the talk button and telling Rachel to send them in. It took only a matter of moments for the pair to rush in and stand before my desk. "You have to help us Mr. Spade, our baby is missing." The woman said franticly.

Looking from one to the other I said, "Please sit down."

"A woman?" the man said his jaw dropping as the woman sat down.

"Please Fred," the woman said pulling him down into the chair next to hers.

I listened as the couple assured me that their daughter Cindy had never been anything other than an angel and someone must have kidnapped her. Nodding sagely, I concluded that their daughter was an angel with horns and ran away. I let them babble on for several minutes before holding up my hand. "Let me see if I got this right," I paused and looked at them and finally settled on the man, "Your daughter, who found you two to be a thorn in her side for years finally got fed up and ran away. You in turn want me to find her and drag her back kicking and screaming."

I caught a ghost of a smile from the man before the woman grabbed his arm and stormed out of the office. A few moments later Rachel came to the door, peaked in and said sarcastically, "Hmmm, let me guess, you won them over with your winning smile and tone." She fully entered the room and sat down across from me before continuing, "Sam, you have not worked in over a week."

Taking my hat off and fluffing my hair with my fingers I said, "So? Are the bills paid with money still in the account?"

"Yes but..."

"No buts to it Rach. They were trying to feed me a line. Anyways, you know how hateful pickups are for everyone involved."

Rachel nodded, "I know, but I worry about you Samantha." She stood and went out to the outer office. Stopping at the door she looked at me and said, "Come to dinner tonight?"

I shook my head no, "No thanks hon. I am going to do a background check on the Jameson's." I smiled at her to take the sting out of my refusal. Rachel was a good dame and always tried to take care of me. While we had an exciting week in sunny Cancun, our relationship had never progressed past that vacation. It was not her, it was me, there was something that made me think I was cheating on someone every time we made love. I never could understand that feeling. While I did not think anything about a casual romp in the hay with willing partner, every time it threatened to become serious, I ran away.

"You're going to take the case even though they stormed out without offering it to you?" Rachel asked surprised.

"They will be back, trust me."

"If you say so Sam," Rachel replied disbelievingly before closing the door and leaving me alone.

While I liked to keep my office old fashioned and work out of the low rent district that did not mean I was a primitive. I pulled open a desk drawer and started typing a search on the couple who were in my office minutes before. When, several hours later, Rachel peaked in to tell me she was leaving I was deep in the personal files of the couple and their angel daughter.

It was near midnight when I finally sat back and thought. Opening the bottom desk drawer, I pulled out a bottle of Kentucky rat poison and a glass. Pouring a drink, I sipped it and thought about what I had read. It seemed, Cindy had been a good dame up until she reached her second year of high school. It was then that she went from an honor roll student to the bottom of the barrel. By the time she was a senior she had been picked up several times for sneaking into clubs and panhandling. Apparently the day after her eighteenth birthday she had had enough of her parents trying to control her life and lit out.

It had not taken me long to figure out where she had headed when she cut loose. She was going to the birth place of jazz to play her sax in a band. She had all but spelled it out in her web pages and correspondence with others. All I needed to do was go down to New Orleans and crawl around the underside of the city. Turning back to the hologram of her I shook my head sadly, no, she was not in a club playing a saxophone. Most likely she was in a whore house or working the streets.

"Sorry kid, life never turns out like in our dreams," I said to the slowly spinning hologram. Killing the rest of the glass I shut down the computer and put the bottle away. Looking at the old clock on the wall I realized it was well after two in the morning. Sighing, I took off my coat, loosened my tie, and went to the couch to catch a few winks there instead of driving to my apartment.

Rachel's voice woke me from my slumber, "Samantha Spade! What on earth are you doing here?"

Sitting up and rubbing the sleep from my eyes I looked at Rachel and said, "Sleeping, why what did it look like I was doing?" I waited for her mouth to open before adding, "Normally, doesn't prince charming wake his princess with a kiss?"

Rachel's mouth snapped shut with an audible click. She looked at me, her hands on her hips and opened her mouth to speak but instead of speaking she closed it and stared hard at me. She did this several times before finally replying, "For one, I am not prince charming, and you damn sure are not a princess Sam." She walked over, bent down and kissed me as if she were my mother and said, "But I'll give you points for trying." Standing back up she looked down and shook her head, "I don't know what I am going to do with you. I'll go start the coffee."

She had turned away when I stopped her with my hand on her arm, "I don't know what I would do without you Rachel."

"Starve to death."

I smiled as she walked back to her office. It was an old game we had played over time. She was smart never to try and change me as she knew that once I was on a case I would work day and night to solve it. Food and sleep could always be caught up, while a problem only got worse. Going to the refresher I made myself ready for a new day Returning to my office I found to my delight, a warm honey bun and cup of joe waiting for me on my desk.

When I had finished the bun, I flicked on the intercom and said, "What's on the calendar today Rachel?"

Her voice sounding as tinny as the day before replied, "The same thing that is on your calendar every day Sam...nothing."

Standing I grabbed my fedora, trench coat, and tucked my .45 into the shoulder holster. Opening the office door, I looked at her, "In that case I am going to see the Geek."

"Give Jimmy my love and see if he will come to dinner," she replied deadpan. "Seeing you always turn me down."

"Sure thing Rach," I replied smiling. As I walked out of the office I smiled at the thought of Jimmy the Geek in the clutches of Rachel. The poor boy would be tripped the minute he walked into the door. Instead of driving, I walked the couple blocks to his store.

Jimmy the Geek ran a second hand electronics store that had anything and everything in it. Though the trick would to be able to find the gems in the rats' nest of junk he filled his place with. Reaching up I silenced the little bell over the door before it could give its musical chime. Closing the door softly before letting the bell return to its place without a sound took time. However, I wanted to practice my trade craft. Over the years I had tried to sneak up on Jimmy, but had always failed.

Today was no different; I had no more than taken two steps when I heard a gentle ringing by my foot. Looking down I saw I had crossed a trip wire of monofilament and set a sleigh bell ringing. "Shit." In a louder voice added, "Cute Jimmy, real cute." Only to hear giggles in reply.

Walking up to the counter I looked at him and added, "Who the hell uses trip wires?"

Jimmy's smile wiped off his face as a small crystal ball on the counter glowed red, "Red, your packing."

Rolling my eyes, I replied, "Of course I'm packing. I might get attacked by a crazed shop owner who fears his own shadow." I went to grab it and place it on the counter as per our custom. However, this time I stopped with my hand half way into my coat. I don't know where he pulled it from but the Geek was drawing down on me with the biggest caliber rifle I had ever seen. "What the hell is that? I asked.

"Elephant gun," Jimmy replied coldly. "Pull your hand out nice and slow Red."

Removing my hand slowly I replied, "Damn Geek, I was just going to get my pistol out and lay it on the counter."

"You know the routine Spade," he replied cocking the rifle. Looking down the barrel I realized the slug it threw must be the size of a banana. Gulping, I shrugged the trench coat off my shoulders and let it slide down my arms to the ground. Moving slowly, I unbuttoned my jacket one handed and let it fall to the floor. Finally taking two fingers I pulled my 45 and set it down on the counter.

Jimmy put the rifle away after the glow faded from the crystal. He looked at me and shook his head, "One of these days Spade, you are going to go too far and I will end up burying you in the back."

"If you shot me then you would never get that date you have never asked for." I was surprised at the blush that flared on his face. Could it be Jimmy the Geek was interested in a friendly romp? I wondered. No, I must have just embarrassed him. "Oh, before I forget, Rachel wants to know if you would like to have dinner at her place tonight." The blush that had flared became deeper as he shook his head.

Instead of replying he picked up my .45 and looked at me surprised. With a quick motion he slipped the mag out looked at it. Looking up at me he said, "Damn it Red. What is the point of having a concealed weapon license, and then carrying an unloaded pistol?" Quickly he field stripped it and examined the parts. The more he looked the more disgusted he became with me. Finally, he turned away and rummaged through a drawer. Turning back with a cleaning kit in his hand he slapped it on the counter and said, "I bet your father is turning in his grave right now, his only daughter treating his pistol like this." Pushing the mess of parts towards me he said, his voice shaking in anger, "Clean it!"

I had never seen Jimmy angry before and it surprised me. But, that was nothing compared to finding out that my pistol belonged to my father. Not touching it I looked at the mass of parts, "This, this was dad's?" I looked at Jimmy and added, "I didn't know..."

"Well now you know. However, the lack of knowledge is not an excuse Red. It is bad enough to carry an unloaded pistol. But to treat a finally crafted machine like this is inexcusable."

I pulled up one of the padded stools and sat down. I hate when I am wrong, more so when my nose is rubbed in my mistake. "I'm sorry," I said in a little voice as I took the cleaning kit and started cleaning daddy's pistol. At some point Jimmy moved away. I only knew this when he came back and slapped a box of rounds on the counter before me. I was so engrossed in cleaning that when he slapped them down I jumped up in shock.

"At least your reaction times are good," Jimmy said. As I reached for the box of cartages he slapped my hand away. "Finish cleaning first." Instead of waiting for me to finish, Jimmy picked up the mag and loaded it. Setting it down he turned away and poured himself a cup of coffee and watched me finish. When I was done he said, "Coffee?"

"Sure," I replied. Sliding the mag home I pulled the slide and put one in the tube. Adding one more to the mag I set the pistol back down and took the cup from him. Jimmy the Geek was many things and a royal pain in my ass most of the time. However, he made the best coffee I had ever tasted. Taking a sip, I looked at the loaded pistol and then at Jimmy, "Geek, why is it that you make me remove my weapons when I walk in, and yet, you had your back turned while I loaded and cocked?"

Looking me in the eye he replied, "Because Sam, if you had fired a shot, the noise would set of the charge of plastic you are sitting on." He waited a beat before adding with a smile, "Just think, you would have blown your own ass away."

"I thought the padding was a bit lumpy," I replied in a deadpan voice. In truth I was shocked, the idea of firing it while his back was turned and giving him a good scare had crossed my mind.

"So what is it you need Red?"

"What do you mean?"

"You only show up when you need something," Jimmy said. He sipped his coffee and then added, "Or when you know I have a fresh shipment of coffee in."

I did not realize I only showed up when I needed something. However, thinking on it I realized that he was right. The only time I saw Jimmy was when I needed information or help. Blushing slightly, I didn't look at him and said, "You're right, I need help." Still not meeting his eye I explained about what I found concerning Cindy.

When I had wound down Jimmy said nothing. Instead he got the coffee pot and refreshed our cups. He sipped his coffee and set it down. Looking at me he said, "Don't take it, Sam. I'll bet you anything she is in a house already and hooked on something to keep her in control."

Nodding I said, "Yea, that's what I figured." I sighed and added, "If it were me down there, would you at least try to get me out and back where it is safe." The look of shock and hurt on his face surprised me. Instead of waiting for him to reply I continued, "Of course you would." I looked towards the front of the store and said, "Somewhere out there is a girl who made a foolish choice and no one is out there to make it right." The sound of breaking glass pulled my attention back to Jimmy.

Jimmy looked as white as a sheet, the coffee cup lying broken on the counter. At once he looked down and grabbed a rag to clean up the spilled coffee, "Your right, you have to save her Samantha."

I was worried; I had never seen him acting like this. Reaching out I laid my hand on his and opened my mouth to ask if he was ok. Before the words could come Jimmy jerked his hand out from under mine and screamed, "Don't touch me." His eyes wild, he stared at me hyperventilating as he rubbed where I had touched him as if wiping off a stain.

"I'm sorry," I said. I had not known about his aversion to touch. "It won't happen again." I added feeling bad. Instead of comforting him, his reaction to the last words were as if I had slapped him. This was getting too emotional for me so I decided to change the topic. "Anyways, any ideas of how I get her out of a whore house intact and without a fight?"

Jimmy pulled on his lip as he thought. Finally, he said, "Drugs." Turning away from me he went to the holo-phone and dialed a number. He had hush on so I could not see who he was talking to or hear what they said. Turning back to me he pulled out a pad and wrote an address down. Laying it on the counter in front of me he said. "Go there, and ask for Fats. He can supply you with what you need."

Snapping up the paper I stuffed it into my shirt pocket. I picked up my coats and put them on saying, "Thanks Geek, I owe you one."

As I holstered the colt, Jimmy said, "Be careful Sam, this has hurt written all over it."

Nodding I said, "You know me, careful is my middle name."

Once outside I glanced at the paper, yea it was the Fat's, I thought it was. I had wandered into Fat Johnny's Pasta Palace several months ago for lunch. What I had found was a surprisingly cheesy looking restaurant with the most incredible Italian food to be found in the city. However, while the food was delicious, the clientele was not. Every time I had eaten there, I was the only woman who did not look like a blond bimbo. Not to mention there were more gorillas' in the joint then I had ever seen gathered in one place. It was as if the restaurant was the official eatery for the underworld.

Presiding over it from a back booth was the largest man I had ever seen. He must have weighed well over four hundred pounds and when he came out from behind the booth he seemed to float across the floor. Imagine Santa in a three-piece suit, with a shave and hair dye. Every time I had come in to eat, he had personally greeted me and sat me himself. Glancing at my watch I realized that it was coming toward the lunch hour and decided that I might as well eat while there.

Entering I noticed that the bubble gum chewing blond was not at the cash register. Instead I was greeted by a very large man in an ill fitting suit with a buzz haircut, and holding a toy machinegun in his meaty hands. Blocking the way, he said, "We're closed for renovations."

Looking up at him I pulled my hat off and ran a hand though my hair, letting the long red locks fall halfway down my back. "Are you sure I can't come in for a quick bite?" I asked batting my eyelashes at him.

"We're closed..." He replied and gestured towards the door with the toy gun towards the door.

"Well, can't blame me for trying," I said putting my hat back on. I turned towards the door and took a step before stopping. Turning around I said, "It was the suit right?" as I walked back to him.

The man looked confused "What?"

Taking off my trench coat I thrust it into his hands before he could react. "I mean if I were dressed more like a woman you would let me in," I added as I pulled my tie off, unbuttoned the top few buttons of my shirt and displayed some cleavage. Handing him my hat I snuggled in close and put my hands on his chest. Looking up at him I said in a soft seductive voice, "Does this make a difference?"

The poor man's mind was in overload and all he could say was "What?" repeatedly.

Still snuggling close I smiled sweetly and said, "How about if I do this?" On the word "this" I brought my knee up as hard as I could. As he made a little eep sound I stepped back, grabbed my hat, and pulled daddy's 45. Dropping to his knees the man made little whimpering sounds which I cut off by bringing the pistol across the back of his skull. Checking to make sure he was out cold, I patted his cheek and said, "Sleep tight."

Tucking the pistol back into its holster I buttoned the jacket and entered the restraint proper. Without stopping to look around I made my way over to a table off to the side and sat down. It was only then that I looked around. While the main dining room was devoid of life, I could see that there was some type of meeting going on in the back dining room. After a few minutes of sitting and waiting, a man came out from the back room and started towards the front door. Seeing me he stopped and looked in my direction confused. After a moment he finally headed towards my table and stopped across from me. "Who are youse?" he asked in a thick Brooklyn accent.