Cold Steele

Worth had a disgusted look and a frown on his face when I pulled to a stop in front of his house. "Really Mr. Steele. Is it necessary to drive to my residence in such a...a...well, a deplorable dilapidated vehicle?"

"Yep. That's my work vehicle, my only work vehicle." I had to shut the driver's door twice to get it to latch. "Shall we get down to business Mr. Worth, or do you want to discuss my ride some more?" I smiled at him and waited.

He looked at my red satin, St. Louis Cardinal jacket, the St. Louis Rams T shirt, faded jeans, and cowboy boots with the same disgust on his face. Worth was wearing a dark blue suit and vest with a lighter color pinstripe plus a blue on blue shirt with little diamond shapes on it, opened at the neck; I think the shirt was a Christian Dior. His clothes were probably, no not probably, his clothes were worth more than my truck.

"Come inside please," Worth said and turned to lead the way into his humble abode. The house was a copy of one of the southern plantation homes that you see in the movies. Tall white columns supported a second story balcony.

I guess he likes to stand out there and watch the peasants work, I thought. Inside facing the entry way was a staircase that would rival the one at Tara in Gone with the Wind. It was about eight feet wide and led to a landing. From there it split so there were two ways to continue to the second story.

"Jacqueline, bring coffee into the sitting room please," Worth requested of a young woman in a gray and white uniform. To me the room he led us into would be a living room; I guess the elite and landed gentry called it a sitting room.

The 'sitting' room was very large and very airy with floor to ceiling windows along one wall. The view was over the manicured lawn and swimming pool at the rear of the house. The furniture was mostly rattan with glass top tables. This is a damn jungle, I thought as I saw all the plants scattered around the room. Guess they want the feeling of being outside without having to deal with the heat or insects.

Susan Worth stood as we entered. This time she was dressed a little more demurely but there was no doubt that she was a very sexy lady. I'm quick that way; I'm a trained detective and I pick up on things like that in a hurry. She wore a pair of tailored slacks that fit very snugly across her rear. Her blouse was silk and unbuttoned about two buttons more than should have been allowed by law. It was obvious from the tightness of the slacks and with the opening in her blouse that Susan wasn't wearing anything else.

She shook my hand and held it a little longer than necessary; both to her husband's and my discomfort. Got to watch myself around this one, I thought. You don't screw around with a client's wife or girlfriend; it makes them hesitant about paying the bill.

Pulling my hand away from her, I looked around the room. On one wall, over a wood burning fireplace, was an oil portrait of Susan Worth. Now I don't know much about art, I just know what I like and I really liked this painting. Susan was sitting on a plain chair with no arms. Her legs were crossed and her arms were folded across in front of her holding her opposite shoulders and she wore a beautiful smile; and that's all.

Mr. Worth walked over to me as I stared at the portrait. "She screwed the artist too," he said with more than a little disgust and anger in his voice. "And then the bastard still demanded full payment. She seems to like tormenting me by screwing the help."

I turned to look at Susan and she gave me a sexy little smile as if to say, 'you too can be one of the lucky ones'. Yeah, I'm definitely going to have to watch myself around this one, my thought echoed again.

"Okay Mr. Worth, tell me more about this Stanley."

"His name is Stanley Moore; here's a picture of him," he said handing it to me. It showed a young man about 25 with a lot of sandy blonde hair, blue eyes and a well muscled torso showing a 'six pack'. "That picture was taken by a security company that watches the house when we're away for any length of time," Worth informed me.

"Okay, I'll need all the information you can give me about good ole Stanley; like his address, phone number and such."

"I've put together this...well biography, on Moore." Worth handed me a folder that contained Stanley's last known address and phone number. It also told me where he went to college, didn't graduate, and what he was interested in; besides Susan Worth that is. I looked at Worth with an unspoken question.

"The parts about his likes and such came off his employment application," he said. Turning to his wife he suggested, "I'm sure Susan knows more about him than I."

Susan gave me one of her semi sexy smiles. "I really don't know that much about Stan." Looking at her husband she added, "We never talked that much."

"How did Moore contact you about the money?" I asked.

Worth went to his desk, unlocked the middle drawer, and searched for something. While he was doing that, I looked at Susan. She's so sexy it ought to be against the law, I thought. Still, I wonder why Worth puts up with her crap. For that matter it's obvious she doesn't think much of her husband, so I'm wondering why she stays? Duuh, silly me, it's the money stupid. Shaking my head, I had answered my own dumb question.

"I received this by courier at my office," Worth said and handed me a folded sheet of paper.

It was a letter, really a note, supposedly sent by Stanley Moore. The note said that he had a two hour DVD showing Susan and Stanley getting it on. He wanted one hundred thousand dollars for the DVD or he would send it to friends, family, and business associates of the Worth's. The note said he would call them in a few days to set up a drop for the money; when he got the money he'd send Worth the DVD. The note was a word document from a computer; even the signature was printed.

"I know this is a silly question, but do you have those kinds of funds available, Mr. Worth?" Jason Worth looked at me like I was an idiot, like I was asking if I'd asked if the Pope was Catholic.

"Oh, Jason has that and much more," Susan answered with a grin. "Don't you dear?"

"Let's keep our business, our business, Susan," Worth chastised her. The look on his face was interesting. He showed both pride that he had that kind of money and frustration that his wife would talk about it. "Yes Mr. Steele, I have the funds. It will take a trip to my bank to get the cash, but it's available."

"How many employees do you have, Mr. Worth?" I asked.

"What difference does that make? Stanley Moore is the one demanding money."

"This note is printed from a computer or word processor. It isn't actually signed by a person; anyone could have used Stanley's name. So, how many employees do you have that are here all the time?"

"Why only those that live here?"

"Only someone that was here all the time would be in a position to record Mrs. Worth and Stanley. A stranger would have been seen coming in to set the camera or to take out the recording. Unless, there is someone who comes here a lot, it has to be someone that the staff wouldn't find unusual being here. "

"There are four that live here." Worth stopped and then continued when I raised an eyebrow.

Raising an eyebrow is a very good way of communicating without speaking, if you can do it. The raised eyebrow can ask a question, show disbelief, interest in what someone is telling you or invite them to continue. I've practiced in front of a mirror until I mastered the trick.

"Samuel is the butler and house manager; his wife Millie is the cook and housekeeper," Worth informed me. "Ralph is the chauffer, he also maintains the vehicles. And Jacqueline assists Millie with the house. After a few seconds, he continued, "Of course there's Susan's string of playmates. The latest one is Danby Summers; he's here at least two times a week from what I hear from the staff. He comes during the day mostly, when I'm at the office."

Susan at first looked surprised that Jason knew that her boy toy visited and then she got a wicked smile on her face. "If you spent more time with me, he wouldn't be able to visit, now would he Jason?"

"If I spent more time with you instead of at the office you'd have to get a job to keep up the lifestyle you've become accustomed to Susan," Worth replied.

Jason Worth looks like he's caught between a rock and a hard place, I thought. If he doesn't make a lot of money, Susan won't stay with him; but him spending a lot of time away gives her the chance to have other men. Rock and a hard place alright.

"You need to get me pictures and information about each of your employees. I'll be spending some time here at your home, checking things out and I'll have some questions for them. You can tell them I'm a security consultant."

"I take it you've decided to accept my case, in spite of your reservations about our lifestyle," Worth said with what I took as a relief.

"Yes sir. It isn't up to me to make a judgment about how you live. It wouldn't work for me but hey, whatever floats your boat. My concern is stopping Stanley Moore or whoever is trying to extort money from you. What about this Danby Summers character? Where would I find him?"

"We're having a little get together tonight," Susan answered. "Just a few people, twenty or so. Danby will be here. Won't you join us?"

I looked at Worth. He didn't seem too happy at the scenario. I don't know if it's because Danby is coming to his house or that I'd be coming in a social context, I thought. Probably a little of both.

"Alright Mrs. Worth. I'll be here at 7

"Will you be staying overnight Mr. Steele?" Mrs. Worth asked. "That could be ever so interesting." The look in her eyes and the tone of her voice was predatory.

"I doubt it," I answered. I'll make sure not to unless it's absolutely necessary, I thought. I don't mess around with married women, but Susan Worth could tempt the bronze statue of Saint Louis in front of the art museum.

"You realize that proper attire will be necessary Mr. Steele," Worth said with a bit of haunting glare.

"I think I have a clean pair of jeans and T-shirt Mr. Worth." The look on his face was priceless. "I'll clean up my act sir, I promise."

"Do you carry a gun Mr. Steele?" I nodded and he asked, "May I see it?" Reaching under my jacket to the small of my back I pulled out my Glock 21C and showed it to Worth.

I'd traded in my 9 MM Beretta 92FS after talking to another former St. Louis Police Detective, Rollie Chambers. He had a couple of shootouts with his 9 and changed to the .45 Glock on the advice of Jacob Tully, a retired Marine Gunnery Sergeant and another former cop. Rollie and I worked a couple of cases together while still with the Department and had become friends.

Tully had been instrumental in my changing to the Glock also. I'd just made Detective First and was full of myself. With my gold shield in hand I decided I wanted to carry a .44 Magnum, like Dirty Harry. I bought a Smith and Wesson 629 with a six and a half inch barrel and took it to the Department shooting range. The first time I fired it, the recoil threw the pistol back into my face; it cut me over my right eye and I had to have three stitches. Tully was the manager and head instructor at the range and laughed so hard he had to sit down. That was the end of my .44 Magnum, Dirty Harry, experience.

Worth reached for my gun but I pulled it away from him. "Nobody touches my weapon" I said.

"My, that's a big one," Susan said and looked directly at me. "Are you any good with it? And are you sure you won't let me touch it?" With the smile on her face and the look in her eye, I wasn't sure that it was the gun she was talking about.

"I'm sure Mrs. Worth; I wouldn't want you to get hold of more than you can handle," I replied. That took some wind out of her sails from the look on her face. "Besides, I wouldn't touch you sexually if I was a monk who years ago had made his vow of chastity but now was trying to make up for lost time."

Mrs. Worth was incensed that I would not be swayed by her charms and for me speaking the way that I did to her.

"You're a cold man, Mr. Steele," she said with more than a little anger.

"Yep, that's me," I replied. Cold as Steel, Steele."

"Susan, behave yourself," Worth ordered. Then to me, "Can you and will you use your gun when you find Moore?"

"I'll find Moore, get the DVD, and he won't bother you again. I can hit what I aim at and will shoot if necessary. But let's get something straight Mr. Worth. I'm not an assassin and I don't hire out to kill people. If that's what you want, you've got the wrong man."

"No, no...I understand." He paused for several seconds. "What is your fee Mr. Steele?"

"I'm sorry to leave," Mrs. Worth said. "But I have a tennis lesson and Sam gets upset if I'm late." She crossed to Mr. Worth and kissed him. "I should be home at the usual time dear, unless Sam keeps me over." Turning to me she said, "Good bye Mr. Steele."

Mr. Worth didn't try to hide his smile at Susan's anger and actually laughed as she hurried out of the room.

"Sam?" I asked after she had left the room. Another man for her to fool around with, I thought.

"Samantha Dooley, her tennis instructor. If it was a man I'd have to watch him too." Mr. Worth shook his head and sighed. "What is your fee, Mr. Steele?"

"$300 a day plus expenses Mr. Worth and I need a five day retainer." Normally I charge $100 a day plus expenses, but Jason Worth was exceeding rich and I just didn't like him, so I upped my rates.

"Isn't that a little high?"

"Not if you want your problem solved," I replied.

"All right," Worth said, went to a desk and wrote me a check.

"Mr. Worth, as I said, it isn't up to me to approve of your lifestyle and you can tell me to mind my own business, but why do you let your wife get away with her crap?"

At first Worth puffed up in anger at my question but then he seemed to deflate like a balloon with a hole in it. Shaking his head he answered, "You've seen her. I know she married me for the money and until recently I could live with that. I mean, having her on my arm when we go out is very satisfying. Guess it's like showing off; see what I've got and don't you wish you did?"

He reached behind him to a built in bar, took a cut glass decanter and poured a dark glass of liquor. Worth held the decanter toward me in invitation. "It's Gentleman Jack, if you'd care for a taste." I nodded and he poured a second drink.

"The problem is that I've come to, well...if not love her at least I've become tremendously fond of her. That's the main reason I've tolerated her behavior." Worth took a drink and stood taller. "But now that her flirting, sexy come-ons, and suggestive behavior have become a reality my tolerance is quickly coming to an end"

I took a healthy drink of the whiskey and looked directly into his eyes. "Mr. Worth, if nothing else you don't have to worry about me around Susan."

He stared at me for several seconds and a small smile came over his face. Worth handed me the check, "Thank you Mr. Steele. Both for taking my case and for your promise. How do we proceed from here?"

"I'll come to your little get together tonight so I can check out Summers. Now I'll be on my way to pay a visit to Moore's address; see what I can find. If either one of them sent the letter and has the DVD, I'll get it and we'll finish this up real quick."

"And if you don't finish it up 'real quick' what then?"

"Then the search goes on. In the mean time, I'll pretend to be a security guy and look around the house. While I'm doing that I'll talk to your staff."

I put the check in my pocket, nodded at Worth, and left the house. On the way to my truck I realized that my dislike for the man had lessened and I was feeling sorry for the guy. He ought to put Susan over his knee and paddle her like a spoiled little brat, I thought. Hey that might be fun.

Stanley Moore lived in a basement apartment of a renovated factory on the near west side of St. Louis. The building had once been a cardboard box plant. I knew that the lofts and top floor apartments were expensive but the ones below street level, in what would be called the basement, were usually much cheaper.

I walked down a short flight of stairs to number 1C and knocked on his door. No one answered but the door to the next apartment was open and an elderly lady looked into the hallway.

"He's not at home," she offered. "Said he was going to visit his sister in Ballwin. Supposed to be back tomorrow."

"Thank you ma'am." I handed her my card. "Would you call me when he gets home; that is if you happen to notice." My bet was that the old lady noticed everything that went on in the building. "I've got a job offer for him."

"That's why you want to see him?" She asked. "Sort of an interview?"

"Yes ma'am. I'd like to know more about him; you know what kind of person he is and such."

"Stanley is a nice young man; always courteous and helpful to me."

"Does he live here alone or does he have a roommate?"

"No, he's alone. But recently he has a friend visiting him a lot; at least until those two ruffians came to see him. He left right after that and I haven't seen him since." "I don't like his friend. He's not very nice.

The old lady shook her head. "Last week I was trying to get my little pull cart through the door and was having trouble. He was walking down the hall to Stanley's and I asked him to give me a hand. He looked at me, smiled, and started clapping his hands; then he went into Stanley's."

"That wasn't a nice thing to do," I said, shaking my head. To me, it would have been funny if after clapping the guy helped her through the door. The guy is an ass, I thought. Maybe I'll get a chance to meet him while I'm looking for Stanley. Maybe I'll have to show him that manners can be taught as well as learned.

"What does this 'friend' look like and do you know this man's name?"

"Not really. Stanley calls him RJ, but I've never heard his name. He's about your height with really dark hair, combed straight back; I think it's a dye job. Big shoulders and well built but sneaky looking, if you know what a mean. I bet his name is Slick."

She paused for a little and added, "It's a shame Stanley lost his job. It wasn't his fault you know."

"Really?"

"That hussy seduced Stanley and when her husband found out, Stanley got fired. Stanley is just a young man and didn't stand a chance against that woman's wiles. Of course her husband was going to find out, as many times as that woman came over here. The husband, Worth I think is his name, blackballed Stanley so he's having a hard time finding a job."

"You've seen her?"

"Oh yes, many times. She'd ring the bell and then walk down to Stanley's apartment like she owned the place. She was always dressed a little too risqué; short tight skirts or shorts, tank tops or blouses unbuttoned half way down to her waist, and it was obvious she didn't wear a bra. A trollop and chippy, if you know what I mean?"

"Thank you for your time Mrs. ...?"

"I'm Irma Foley. I'll call you when Stanley gets back."

Nodding I turned and left the building. I drove back to the Worth's. Time to play security consultant and talk to the other employee's.

Samuel let me into the house and led me to the sitting room. "Mr. Worth had to go out for a while but he left the information you requested in here," he said pointing to the desk in the corner. "If you need anything, push the button and Millie or Jacqueline will be right here." Samuel nodded and left the room.

There were several folders stacked in the middle of the desk. I sat down and saw the button that would summon the help. Must be nice, I thought. You want a sandwich or something, so you just push a button and there you go; instant gratification.