The Trench Coat

"We guessed at twenty kilos, say 45 pounds or so." I said flatly.

"Just so. It has a mark that looks like 7.5. on the base but is in fact 'F.S.' in script, The initials of Fred Sexton, the sculptor. It is also scratched from the scene in the movie where Caspar Guttman tried to scrape away the paint looking for the gold body. And, the tail is bent where it fell and hit Bogart's foot. Correct?" He was growing very excited as he spoke of his deepest desire.

"The tail is bent, there are scratches on the body and there is a mark on the base that could be

'F.S.' I suppose." said Mae, helpfully.

He was visibly more excited. "Excellent!" He roared downing his Scotch and holding his glass up for more. Mae was generous with my good whisky. "It must be the genuine article! Outstanding. Do you understand the journey it has had? Bogart kept it after filming. He said he was going to melt it down into fishing sinkers. It sat on his desk at home until his death. He willed it to either David Niven or Peter Lorre. It's not clear. Lorre ended up with it and he gave it to John Huston because he always thought Huston got cheated out of an Oscar. Huston lost it in a poker game. From there the trail grows muddy and bloody. It was rumored, but not confirmed to have been won by John Wayne no less. Its owners are said to have included memorabilia collector Forrest J. Ackerman, Alice Cooper, Oprah, Ringo Starr. It appeared in Amsterdam, where Mr. Unger was in a bidding war with a man said to be an agent of DeBeers. That ended badly for the Agent, but the item disappeared for over a year and resurfaced in Belgium, in the home of an heir to the Stella fortune. She was robbed. I was close to getting it from the thief. The thief turned up beaten to death, evidently by the bird, but without it. Miss Stevenson here told us that the man who took it from her accomplice sounded German and-"

"Miss Stevenson? You mean my buddy Vince's niece here?" I asked.

He roared with laughter again "No! It is so easy to trust a pretty girl in a bikini with a plausible tale! I mean my niece Jennie Stevenson whom I had goad her cat burglar boyfriend into stealing the item. He succeeded but someone else was watching. He paid for his carelessness with his life. We three headed to Germany, without a clue where to start. The next plane was headed to Munich, we tried that. Berlin, Hamburg, half a dozen other places then on to Austria. An antiquities dealer in Vienna sent us to a small village on the German-Czech border. The dying words of a railway porter told Mr. Unger that it was headed to Marseilles. Mr. Unger caught the train, I flew, Miss Stevenson rented a car and drove the backroads. We met in Marseilles, having found no clue on our separate voyages. We sat in a cafe overlooking the Harbour and saw Captain McGuffin carrying a heavy package aboard the Genoa Borealis. We couldn't believe our good luck.

"Sadly, by the time we got to the dock, the ship had already left. We were waiting for it in Halifax and Montreal, but in both cases she docked at a secure Government facility. Captain McGuffin never left the ship in either city, nobody visited. When she entered the St. Lawrence Seaway and headed upstream, we headed to Toronto to wait.

"I am sure you can figure out the rest. Captain McGuffin left the ship, came here and died in your foyer after giving you the Falcon. Where is it sir?" He leaned forward and drained his glass. He held it up. Mae grabbed the bottle of my best Scotch by the neck in both hands and swung for the fences. The bottle shattered and he was covered in small shards of glass and expensive Scotch. The shock was enough. I grabbed her hand and we ran for the door. We hit the landing before the rest could even get up.

The doorbell rang.

***

Outside my door stood a short, broad shouldered Asian man in a nice suit, and two Uniformed Metro Toronto Cops. The Uniforms had their guns drawn (odd, I thought). The man reached into his suit coat and pulled out his badge.

"Mr. Lyon I presume? I am Detective Sergeant Eddie Chang of the Metro Toronto Police Service. O'Leary and Kowalski of 23 Division. May we come in?"

"Sure Detective. Oh, That is Captain McGuffin of the MV Genoa Borealis." I said pointing at the body on the landing. "You might have one of your men watch him. The last time he died he got better."

"What?" he said

"I am just going to grab something from the basement. I think you know what it is." McGuffin blocked the door partly but I got it opened enough to slip in, move the cat food and grab the Falcon. "Good girl Mae. Bought us some time. I assume you managed to call the cops?"

Mae smiled and nodded

"What's that?" Asked one of the uniforms. I looked at his badge

"The stuff that dreams are made of. Don't you watch old movies, Kowalski?"

"Sure, I watched 'Rocky' last night." He answered without irony.

I shook my head. "Everyone is upstairs in the den. Excuse the mess. We were trying to escape."

Once everyone had assembled, I made the introductions.

"Detective, This is Mr Jason Unger, Mr. Nero McTavish, Ms Olga and Miss Jennie Stevenson. They are international thieves after the Falcon. They believe it to be the last remaining statue made for the 1941 movie. This is my friend Mae, an innocent bystander, like me. Oh over there is-"

The cops sang out in unison "Ryan Watter PI." and burst into laughter.

"Okay Mr. Lyon, I think I can explain everything here." Said Detective Chang

"No," I began, "Let me. There are a few things you don't know or will have missed. First, let me state categorically that this is NOT the last surviving movie prop from the 1941 film 'The Maltese Falcon'. It is a very good copy. But it has not traveled all over North America and Europe and back. It has precisely three blemishes. The two knife marks made by the Caspar Guttman character in the film and a bent tail feather where it fell on Bogie's foot. It should be covered in small scratches and dings. Lead is a very soft metal. It should have bent when it committed two murders. And why would an object that originated in Hollywood in 1941 be wrapped in Toronto newspapers from the 1950s?"

I let that sink in. I had the room in my control

"There is only one person who could be behind all this. Only one person is clever and resourceful enough to pull it off. And while I don't know the motive, only one person had the opportunity." I paused like Jessica Fletcher. "Mae."

"You are saying Ms. Weng is an art thief?" Asked the Detective.

"No, but you confirmed things. I didn't tell you her last name, did I 'cousin Eddie'?"

"Shit!" He said.

"Mae, you introduced me to your cousin the Detective at a ball game, with his wife and two kids oh, three years ago. I guess I didn't make much of an impression?" I asked.

"In my defense, you didn't have a beard then." He answered.

"Yeah, you're right. Frankly I didn't actually remember your name either." I allowed

Captain McGuffin had joined us.

"Hello Captain. Feeling better?"

"I'm good." He answered.

"So, will someone tell me what in the name of Dasheill Hammett is going on?" I demanded.

Mae smiled and came to me, leaning on my shoulder. "Did you have a good time today. Ted?" she asked, kissing me softly on the cheek.

"Yeah, it was... hey! Whisky Tango Foxtrot?"

"Your birthday is next week, isn't it? Happy Birthday!" she said, adding in a whisper "Just wait for the sequel!"

The group broke into an off-key version of Happy Birthday.

"What tipped you off?" She asked

"The whisky bottle should have broken into large chunks if at all, not shattered. It was obviously a prop. I hope it was filled with apple juice?"

"Iced Tea." She answered.

I continued. "The criminals made no attempt to inspect the cargo off-loaded from the Genoa Borealis. Or at least they didn't mention it. Oh, and you were the only one to check the Captain's pulse both times."

"You got me Ted." She said smiling, embracing me in a very tight hug. I suddenly remembered under my London Fog, was a gorgeous naked babe.

"So who are all these folks?" I asked.

"These are the stars of the North Toronto Amateur Theater Guild." Said Mae.

"You should see my Falstaff in Henry V." Said "McTavish".

"Not me!" Said Steve. "Mae asked Uncle Vince to help out. He is really sorry to miss this, but he offered me and his place to stage things."

"And you stole my big scene!" Said Eddie, scowling at me.

"Yeah, well I am three klicks outside the city limits. So, wrong Cops!" I said in my defense

"And, the bird?" I asked

"That's your birthday present from the office." Mae said proudly.

"Anyways, Mae." Began Eddie "There is two hours until the party at the Blue Dragon down the street. I think some of us are going to go and change."

"I am going to help Ted clean up and we will meet you there in two hours or so." She explained.

I saw everyone out and locked the door, in hopes.

I got up as Mae finished cleaning up the broken prop glass. She stood, turned towards me and slipped out of the trench coat. She slipped to her knees and opened my belt and undid my zipper. She took me full in her mouth, tonguing my balls as I started to get hard. "Happy Birthday Ted" She whispered hoarsely and returned to her efforts.

I had responded by this time and she changed her approach. She held the base of my cock, cradling my balls and worked the head, slobbering over it, tonging the rim, tickling the frenulum and teasing the urethral opening. Damn, she knew what she was doing. By this time I had my shirt off and my pants were around my ankles. She pulled her head back and smiled up at me.

"I have been waiting a long time for this Ted." She said breathlessly.

"Me too Mae. Me too." I answered. I took a second to get out of my pants and footwear. I took her hand and lifted her to her feet. I pulled her in tight and kissed her hard, grabbing a big handful of her firm ass in the process. My cock was pressed against our bellies, making a fuss about getting free.

May grabbed my hard member and slipped it between her legs, rubbing along its length with her wet pussy. I have never felt anything so erotic in my life. I kissed her hard as she continued to use me as a toy.

Mae walked me back to the couch and gently pushed me back. I lay on it and she climbed on me, slipping my aching erection into her warm, wet pussy.

I reached up and palmed one of her glorious breasts. She moaned softly and grabbed both sides of my head and returned the kiss while riding me like a rented pony.

The doorbell rang.

"Ignore it. It must be someone dropping off The Hildebrand Rarity or McFly's Flux Capacitor. The movie is over. The Hero got roughed up a bit, but he still got the dingus and the dame. Kiss me baby."

Fade to black.

****

So, Gentle Reader, you may ask yourself "What's with the gratuitous sex scene at the end? It doesn't drive the narrative or create conflict or develop characters."

Yeah. I know. But, this IS Literotica. And, I once publicly posted on this site that I would love to get the hero laid. No hero gets to play Hide the Sausage. James Bond never got any Horizontal Refreshment. Sam Spade was denied a chance at Makin' Bacon. Jim Rockford never Got Lucky. Even Mike Hammer never committed Assault with a Friendly Weapon. (See, I did have more)...So Ted and Mae, after so much Hanky Panky Interruptus get to have a bit of Afternoon Delight. Yes, a quick Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo. Ted's bishop is polished, Mae's Muffin is Buffed. (Yes, I went a long way for that).

And they all Boinked Happily Ever After.

Fade to Black, er Noir