Kidnapped!

Chapter II

A Ruined Life

My life was ruined.

Me, Sled Speed, Private Dick, would never be able to hold his head up high again down at O’Mally’s Bar and Grill, and all because of my little sister.

I opened my lower desk drawer and stared at the bottles there, finally selecting the Macallan 18. Next to it was a bottle of Glenfiddich and one of Chivas Regal. I’m testing them to find the best scotch. So many expensive whiskeys, so little time.

I pour a glass and let the smooth liquid tease my tongue. Heavenly!

Well, where was I? Oh, yes. My life is ruined. And all because of my little sister, Susie, whom I love dearly but who has totally destroyed my image and self-respect. I used to have a nice little office in a run-down section of town where the rent was dirty cheap even if the elevator didn’t usually work. But now, look at me! This office is on the tenth floor of a fancy building in Marina Del Rey. I look out the window and see the sea. Expensive yachts and condos that cost over a million apiece. What kind of self-respecting private dick would be found in such a place, I ask you? This is for bankers and lawyers and those who rob with a pen instead of a gun. Not for an old fashioned, hard-boiled private dick like me.

Since Susie came, nothing has been the same. She’s organized my business, put advertising on the Internet, and even created a website for Sled Speed, Inc. Sam Spade would be turning over in his grave if this happened to him.

I was happy handling an occasional missing person or cheating husband case; poor, true, but I never expected to be rich. So long as I could buy bullets for Betsy and rotgut booze for myself, I was content enough. Then she comes into my life, fresh out of college, and tells me that she wants to be a private dick, just like me. Only she calls it ‘Private Investigator’, which is probably better in her case anyway. So I let her help me on a case. And, I’ll have to admit, she did good.

But then she starts changing things.

When I came back from a little trip to Japan where I cleaned up a case for the CIA, I found she had been busy. I was now incorporated, had several clients, and, worse of all, a computer on my desk!

She had set up a website, done some advertising, and gotten me more cases in a month than I usually get in a year. And, worse, she was handling them by herself. She claims that those courses she took in college are really helpful. Did I mention that her degree is in “Police Science?” Police science, sheesh! As I’ve said before, all a policeman needs is to be able to shoot straight, crack a few heads when needed, and tell the criminals from the victims.

I took another sip. Nice scotch.

I will have to admit, however, that I do appreciate the extra money. Since replacing my old Betsy .45 with a new Desert Eagle .50 I call Wilma, the cost of rounds has gone up considerably. But after learning how to handle that big recoil, I really have come to love Wilma. She has a loud voice and is a commanding presence. Plus she could knock an elephant to its knees. I actually saw one round from her pick up Skinny Lester and throw him out his office window. Take about stopping power!

And I don’t have to buy that four dollar a fifth booze from the local discount store.

I took another sip. A guy could get used to the high priced stuff.

Well, anyway, there I was, sitting in my office, lamenting my lost lifestyle, when there is a knock on the door.

“Come on in,” I growled. All us private dicks growl. It’s a hard habit to break.

It was Susie’s secretary, Ramona, about the sexiest Latina I’ve ever seen. She came in on those gorgeous legs and gave me a good eyeful of big-breasted beauty.

“There is a man to see you,” she said. I was wondering how I could get her to take a deep breath and see if one of the buttons on her blouse would actually pop off. They looked like they were being strained to the structural limits of the fabric already.

“Why doesn’t Susie take care of him?”

“She’s not here.”

“Oh?” That puzzled me. I had thought that we were going to go to lunch together, but it was almost noon and she was out?

“Ms. Speed left this morning to oversee the planning for security at the Winthrope estate and hasn’t returned.”

“Well, then I guess you can let him in.”

Right now I’ll publicly state that I prefer my clients to be female, of centerfold class, and willing to do anything to get me to help them. But, what the hell, I hadn’t actually worked a case in a while. It might be interesting.

The guy was pretty far from the classy broads I like to see strolling into my office. He was tall, solidly built, dark features, and, from the slightest bulge in his thousand dollar custom made suit, packing. I suddenly wished I didn’t have Wilma hanging on a coat rack behind me. Maybe this was someone I had sent to jail in the past, coming to settle up an old score.

“My name is Rocco. I work for Mr. Raszini.”

That was all he said, as if I should know who this Mr. Raszini was. The name did sound a little familiar.

“Have a seat and tell me what Mr. Raszini wants.”

“He wants to see you. Said to tell you he has a case for you.”

I didn’t like this guy. For one thing, my senses were tingling just like they do when I’m confronted by criminals. Secondly, I don’t like being ordered around by someone who was obviously just hired muscle. And thirdly, I didn’t like his not sitting down. I mean, after all, I invited him to.

“My case load is all full right now.”

“That’s too bad,” he said with one hell of a sneer. “Mr. Raszini don’t like being turned down.”

Then it hit me! Mr. Raszini was Theodor Raszini, one of the big crime bosses who started out in New York then moved to the West Coast. I had seen his ugly puss and name on the evening news a lot. I had to wonder if this had something to do with the Case of the Kidnapped Countess, which had me going to the Big Apple to save a dame.

“Well, he’s going to be disappointed this time. I’m not interested.”

“He said that you might feel that way.” His hand started to move inside this coat and I was about to jump up and reach for Wilma when he pulled out a cell phone. Touching the screen a couple times, he held out the phone for me to see.

I almost shit in my pants! There, in full color, on the tiny screen, was a woman I had not seen in a couple years. Unfortunately, it was also a woman I had never forgotten – a woman who broke my heart when she dumped me. It was Linda Goodbody! And I was not happy to see that she was bound to a chair, gagged and looking very angry.

“What’s the game?” I growled. “You know treating my… friend like this makes me upset.”

“She’s your former girlfriend and Mr. Raszini knows that you will be pissed as hell. He also knows that you’ll want to talk to him now. Shall we go?”

I gulped down the last of the scotch, because I needed a belt, and stood. I made sure he saw me put on the shoulder harness and settle Wilma beneath my arm. Then I added my coat and gave him my meanest, most hard-boiled look. The usual effect was to make men cringe and women swoon. This guy just grinned and walked for the door.

“I’ll be back soon,” I told Ramona on the way out. She looked puzzled but said nothing.

He declined to let us go in my car, so I had to sit beside him in his large, black, American-built auto. The trip was not a long one, only to the Hilton hotel next to LAX. There, I was led up to the top floor and into one of those if-you-have-to-ask-the-price-you-can’t-afford it rooms. Had a nice view of the jets taking off and landing, cold air conditioning and the smell of expensive cigars.

“Mr. Speed, I am Theodor Raszini.”

The man, who was more often than not the target of the Justice Department, was not large. In fact, he barely came to my shoulders. He came forward and offered his hand. I ignored it.

“Please, sit down,” he said, waving a hand to comfortable looking chairs around a coffee table. “Would you like a drink?”

“Scotch,” I said. Have to keep up the image, you know.

The second man in the room, obviously another of his bodyguards, poured two glasses of that refreshing amber liquid and placed them in front of us. I sipped mine. Like myself, he went for the high class booze. I couldn’t tell you the brand, but it was smooth with a wonderful hint of smokiness.

“I have a job for you,” he began.

“What about my… Miss Goodbody?” I interrupted. “I want her released.”

“In good time, in good time.” He sipped also, making me wait. I was very much aware of the two men standing behind me. “You finish this job for me, and your former lover will be released with no harm done to her.”

I grunted. What I really wanted to do was yell at him and threaten to rip his fingers and toes off with tongs.

“All I want you to do is go to Italy and rescue a girl. Do that, and you friend will be released.”

“Why me? You’ve got muscle. And they probably speak Italian better than I do.”

He smiled, but there was no humor in it. “I hear that you get things done, you don’t always stay within the law, and that you can keep your mouth shut.”

“Who is the girl?”

“My daughter, Angelica. So you see, I am very interested in her safety. Even as you are for Miss Goodbody’s safety.”

I had to keep from reaching for Wilma. I don’t like it when people kidnapped a woman I cared about. She might have dumped me, but that doesn’t change my feelings towards her.

“She was visiting some relatives in Italy when she was kidnapped. She is being held a prisoner by a man who… Shall we say, does not like me.”

“Another boss?” I asked.

“Yes. A powerful man.”

“Why did he snatch your daughter?”