Sam Spade 02: Case of the Mysterious Mask

I moved away and set it down on the table behind me before replying, "Angela, can you do anything with Lady Heather?"

When she opened her eyes there was a look of longing that frightened me. However, it cleared and she said calmly, "What do you mean?"

"I want you two, if possible, to go to her house and see if you can find the packing the mask came in. Perhaps you will get lucky." I shrugged my shoulders, "I want to take this mask to Jimmy the Geek and see what he says about it."

"Okay Sam," she replied before standing up and heading back to Lady Heather.

As I was drying off after showering, I heard Angela's voice call out. Rushing back into the bedroom, I expected to see Angela masked but instead she was standing at the foot of the bed. "What's wrong?" I asked looking from her to the porcelain-covered woman caressing herself on the bed.

"Listen to this..." Angela said and then went and sat down beside Lady Heather. "Heather? Who sent you the mask? Who sent it... you can tell me."

Lady Heather's eyes did not open nor did her hands stop their erotic caresses replied softly, "Sam Spade sent it. She attached a note saying I would love it." She giggled, "I do love it, she was right about that."

As I headed to see Jimmy, I kept glancing over at the wrapped mask on the seat beside me. I was worried, more worried than I had let Angela know. Anything that could affect an android like that had to be overwhelming to a human.

Jimmy the Geek had been a longtime friend, both of my father before me and then of mine. He ran an old shabby second hand electronics shop but if anyone could figure out what the mask was he would. I had thought to turn to my uncle but Jimmy was a jack-of-all-trades and stood a better chance. Getting out of the car, I smoothed my dress. Ever since I had found out my past, I had started to wear dresses and skirts more often. I had realized that the distraction of a pretty leg sometimes gave me the edge in a close fight. Opening the door to Jimmy's shop went to the back calling out, "Yo Jimmy!"

Jimmy came out and stopped dead glancing down at something behind the counter. He looked at me and then back down. "Damn Red! What are you doing dressed like that and not packing heat?" He hurried past me and I could hear the loud click of the front door locking. As he came back to the counter, he looked me over once more. "I must say you are looking nice; Angela been giving you more dressing tips?" he said with a laugh.

Setting the package on the counter I gave him a small smile, "Funny Jimmy, very funny." Unwrapping the mask from the cloak and looked at it. For some reason I was suddenly scared to touch it. "Jimmy..." I paused I did not know how to explain it to myself let alone to someone else. I touched the cool porcelain daintily and continued, "What is it?"

Jimmy looked at the mask, "This is a trick question right?"

"Jimmy, I have a woman in my house who wearing a mask like this. She cannot take it off. For that matter the damn thing has grown and covered her from head to toe leaving only her hair uncovered." The words came tumbling out fast. "Hell, even Angela was wearing this one and I had to work hard to get her to take it off." My voice became shrill and I knew I was losing control but I was scared, "What is it?" My eyes locked onto the mask as I remembered the night's passion.

I felt someone pull me away from the counter and turn me around. Jimmy's swift slap restored me to the present, "Samantha, snap out of it. Are you ok now?" I nodded to him. Jimmy went back around the counter, pulled on a pair of rubber gloves, and flipped the mask over. Taking a magnifying glass, he looked at it carefully and mumbled to himself. Flipping it back upright, he again went over the mask with the magnifying glass slowly covering every inch. At last, he stood up, pulled the gloves off and looked at me. "Samantha, I do not see anything out of the ordinary." He eyed it and then said, "If you want I keep it to run some tests on."

Nodding I replied, "Sure Jimmy. Just do not put it on. You will never get it off. According to Angela, it rewards your mind for wearing it."

His head jerked up, "Rewards your mind?" With a quick motion, he was at his reader pulling up articles and discarding them faster than I could follow. After a few minutes he cussed and looked up at me, "I can't find it, but I seem to remember reading an article on the use of nanotechnology for behavior modification." He gestures towards the door, "Let me run some tests and see if I can find the article. I am sure I saw it somewhere."

I knew that look, when Jimmy was hot on the trail of something he would not stop until he solved it. Smiling I took the cloak with me and left his store. My next stop was over at Creative Costumes. They were the premier costume supply house in the city. If anyone could give me a clue as to where the cloak came from, they could.

Walking in I approached the counter, a woman wearing a frilly French gown turned towards me and said with a Bronx accent, "Yes? Can I help you?" I had expected her to speak French and was taken aback by her accent.

"Um yea... Can you tell me anything about this cloak? I just love this material and..." my voice drifted out I knew by her look that my lame story was not holding any water.

She looked at the cloak and felt the material. Looking at me she said, "yes it is from our medieval line of cloaks." Opening it up she looked at the missing tag. "Hmmm... one moment please, let me get the manager."

A few minutes of waiting a man walked out, "I understand you were inquiring about one of our cloaks? Are you with the police?"

"No sir, my name is Samantha Spade. I'm a private investigator and I am trying to find out where this cloak came from." I said putting on a winning smile. He looked at me and then at the cloak. After a minute, he went over to a computer terminal and typed in a few commands.

Holding a print out and frowning he came back, "May I see some identification please?" I handed over my PI license and he looked at it and at me. "Is this some kind of joke Miss Spade?" he said.

"Joke? No sir."

"It seems you yourself bought these cloaks from us just two weeks ago." He thrust the sales slip to me. There at the bottom of the receipt was my signature. I looked up at him in confusion.

"But I..." I started to say and then shaking my head to clear it said, "Just how many did I buy? And is "Cindy" I said looking at the clerk's name on the receipt, "here?"

"One dozen," He replied calmly, "Cindy is no longer with us."

"Do you have a forwarding address as to where I might find her?"

"No," he said and without anything else said, turned and walked away.

The woman in the French outfit said softly, "Cindy and John were tight but she dumped him and headed out west. The last word I heard was she was working in Hollywood as a costumer under another name." She looked towards the back and then at me again, "it's a touchy subject with John, I'm sure you understand."

"Yea, I see your point." I picked up the cloak and receipt and walked out of the store in a daze. My mind focused on the fact that there were 11 more cloaks out there somewhere. Did that mean that there were 11 masks also? For that matter who foraged my signature? Milling these questions in my mind, I drove back slowly home. Perhaps Angela got lucky, found the note and packing.

Reaching home, I saw that Angela's car was there. Walking in I called out that I was home but she must have been tending to Heather and did not hear me. On the dining table, I saw the box from Lady Heather's house. Sitting down I pulled out the letter and stared at it dumbfounded. Pulling out the receipt and laying it next to the note, I compared the two. Both were written in my trademark purple ink, seemingly by my hand. Angela came out from the spare bedroom and wordlessly stood behind me massaging my shoulders.

Looking up at her, I handed her both the note and receipt. As I told her what I had found out from Jimmy, she examined the two documents. Finally, she looked up at me a long time before speaking, "Samantha, if I did not know better, I would swear that these two documents are your handwriting. Whoever are doing this knows you too well, has serious manpower, and cash reserves." She looked down at them, "Who have you upset with this much horsepower?"

Over the years I had made a few people upset, but no one who had anywhere near enough power to pull this off nor were that mad at my tender body. It was as if a light went off, "The only one who could, who has the power, is Frankie Desalvo." The more I thought about it the more it made sense. While looking for Angela's "brother" I had messed with Frankie a bit to keep her from taking exception of me barging in on her little world. Standing and looking at Angela, "She has the motive, she has the power to find a good forger, and she has the money to pull it off!"

As I turned to go have a friendly chat with Frankie, Angela stopped me, "No love," she said resting her hand on my shoulder. "Let me go instead." I started to object but she shushed me, "Number one, she is not after me and I can get to her better then you. Number two, I am made of metal, nothing she or her thugs can hurt me. Finally, yet importantly, you need to stay and take care of Lady Heather. She is your responsibility."

I sat heavily on the chair; I really hate it when she uses logic against me. "Your right Angela," I said resigned. Looking up at her I said, "Please be careful." I watched as Angela grabbed her trench coat and left. Standing I made some scrambled eggs for Heather and myself. I had to spoon-feed her. It seemed she had lost the ability to do anything except lick and give pleasure. Every time I tried to talk to her about how the package arrived, she would distract me. I was just coming up for air when I hear Angela's voice call out. Buttoning my blouse, I hurried out to the living room.

"Oh my god!" I said in dismay at the sight of Angela standing there with two figures wearing cloaks and masks. By the build of one, I knew it to be Frankie Desalvo and the other I was willing to bet was my former receptionist. Dropping heavy to the couch I looked at Angela before resting my head in my hands sadly. In only what seemed a moment three sets of hands were caressing my body. I looked up to tell Angela to take them to the room but instead of her being the third, Lady Heather had followed me out of the bedroom. If trying to fight off one sex crazed woman was hard, fighting off three at once was a losing battle.

Soon we four were on the floor rolling around on the floor in an orgy of passion and lust. My love, Angela, whom I had forgotten all about, was standing off to one side watching with a frown. Now and then I would catch sight of her standing there not moving watching me. Instead of making me come to my senses it excited me even more. Sometime after midnight I saw her finally move, she went to each of the girls and said, "time to let your mistress rest," and lead them away. When we were alone she gathered up the two notes she had plus the receipt and other note and looked them over. Looking down at me, my clothes torn from my body, she said, "Logic dictates you are the guilty party. I have only one question though, why exclude me Samantha? You had to know I would see through the innocent act."

I looked up in surprise at Angela. I had expected her to give me a lecture about ethics. Never in my wildest dreams had had I thought she would believe I would do this thing. "But... I didn't do it Angela," I said protesting my innocence. "Please believe me."

Angela looked at one of the papers and read, "Frankie, my sweet pet, I want you to wear this mask every night as you worship my panties before you go out and dance. ~Samantha" She looked down at me, "Only three people knew what happened that night. You, me, and Frankie." She flipped to the other paper, "Rachel, though we are no longer together, I will always cherish the weekend we spent together in New Orleans. Please wear this when you think of me. ~Samantha" She again looked at me, "Only you and Rachel knew of your trip. How could I know, I had not been created yet." She reached a hand to help me to my feet and handed me the papers, "In all three cases you are the common dominator."

I looked at the notes, again like the first, they were written on green paper, purple ink, and had my handwriting. I looked at Angela, "But I don't... I could not... I did not do it love."

Angela looked at me a long time and said softly as she caressed my cheek, "I believe you, Logic says you are guilty. I believe, that you believe, you are not guilty and will help you find the truth." She paused a long moment before adding, "No matter what it is." She shrugged on her trench coat and headed to the door, "You get some rest, and I'm going up to the office to check the records." I jumped up to stop her but a raised eyebrow stopped me in my tracks, "Or is there some reason you don't want me to look in the office Samantha?"

"No... I..." I stuttered and then looked down at the floor, "I was hoping you would come to bed with me and snuggle." The sound of the front door closing was answer enough. I have had low days in my life, but nothing comes close as low I felt at the sound of the door closing. In our bedroom, on a shelf was a stuffed bear looking ragged and all alone.

When I was a child, my mother bought it for me it was her final gift, and my most prized possession. Then the night of the accident, my father told me what happened, I clung to it crying and grieving. Ever since then in times of troubles, I would take the bear and clung to it feeling it connect me to my mother. The bear would never be far away nor would the memory of her mother.

When I grew up the bear was put on a shelf and forgotten, like all childhood things. Then, the night of the accident, Angela and I had confronted my father over my sexuality and love for her. Words flew thick, words that could never be taken back. We stormed out, hand in hand and drove away, at the last moment before we left I grabbed the only link I had left with mom, the bear.

I now sat on the bed holding the bear in the darkened room. It's singed and bloodstained body looking almost as bad as I felt inside. I crawled under the covers still dressed and cried myself to sleep clutching the bear just as I had as a child. I dreamt of happier times, of Angela coming to bed with me, setting the bear off to the side and ravishing me. Then, there were several Angela's all making love and telling me it was okay.

I do not know what woke me but as I opened my eyes, I was surrounded by three porcelain-covered women, who were snuggling like a litter of kittens against their mother. Of my clothes and bear, there was no sign. Getting up I gave the sluts chores to do to keep them busy while I cleaned up. I found the clothes ripped by the side of the bed. Of the bear, it was under the bed. Just as I reached for it, I noticed Angela standing in the doorway holding a stack of case files. Not looking at the bear, I reached and found a piece of paper under my fingers. Pulling it out in confusion, I looked at it. On it was a list of names, the top three of which are wandering around the house playing "Debby Domestic."

"What were you trying to hide Samantha?" were Angela's first words to me. She walked over to me and set the folders down on the bed. Sitting down next to them, she plucked the page from my unresisting fingers and looked it over. Like the others, it was on green paper and written in purple ink by my hand.

As she said each name, she looked through the folders and dropped it on the floor before me, "Lady Heather Gramn... Heather was the woman cheating with Lucy Franks husband that you covered up." The case file hit the floor with a loud thump, sounding as if it were an executioner's axe.

"Frankie Desalvo... Underworld connection rented a pleasure bot to my brother, and who you turned into a slut who worships your musky scent."

"Rachel Underwood... your receptionist, one-time lover, and the woman you consoled or should I say seduced, when you found her missing boyfriend dead in bed with another man."

"Carol Smith... Skip trace that you found for Acme Loans. She, you let off after a few nights of fun and reported that you could not find her."

"Colleen Johnson... She cleaned out a jewelry store and you were hired to find her by the insurance company."

"Billie Newmann... Inheritance investigation that awarded her 100 big after you cleared her."

"Crystal Hunter... Madam Crystal runs an escort service and needs coverage for her clients now and then. In return you had her at your beck and call 24/7 while you and she worked together."

Tonjala Green... Erotic dancer who you had a fling with while working undercover. You exposed an extortion racket that she, her sister, and John Griff ran."

"Ashley Griff... Married to John Griff, and in extortion racket with her sister Tonjala."

"Amiee Catlin... Another skip trace that you could not find after a long weekend in Vagas with her."

"Sue Lessin... An accountant accused of using two sets of books."

"And last but not least, Angela..."

There were a few files left of the bed but the mast majority lay before me scattered. "Logic dictates you have to cover your tracks Samantha, so your dirty laundry does not come back and haunt you." She dropped the paper on top of the pile, and sat once more on the bed looking down at me. "I notice there are checkmarks by each name except mine," she said after a moment. "Should I expect more... guests?"

I looked at the pile before me. Each thing she said was true but twisted so it seemed worse than it was. Take Tonjala and Asley for example. John had a strangle hold on the other two and made them do it. They were nothing more than pawns and beaten women. I looked up at Angela and the look on her face devoid of emotion killed me inside.

I knew then she would never believe me. The evidence was too damming. Hell, even I began to wonder if I were the guilty party. Curling up in a ball, I sobbed in abject misery. One hand reached under the bed, retrieved teddy, and I clung to it crying and feeling lost. Sometime later, I felt Angela's arms pull my head to her lap on the floor next to me. I clung to her and teddy, just like a child would cling to her mother after waking from a nightmare.

Angela stroking my hair said softly as she comforted me, "I don't care what you did or why Samantha. I love you." I looked up at her and she continued. "I will go and collect them all for you. Help you cover your tracks love." She paused and looked away from me before saying what I knew she would say, "But once I have collected your porcelain sluts and returned with them. You have to turn me into one of them or I will be forced to turn you in."

Looking up at Angela I knew she was good as her word. I had to solve this before she showed up with the last woman. The ticker was running and I had to work fast. Getting up I showered and by the time I got back out she was gone. Gathering the three porcelain women I gave them quick instructions to make the others Angela would be arriving with welcome and to thank Angela in the best way they know how for retrieving each of their new sisters. It was my hope that they would be able to slow Angela down and give me more time.

As I rushed out of the house, I thought back on the couple of folders that were left on the bed. I would have to look at those later. First, I needed to see Jimmy and find out if he has any answers. I reached his store just as he opened up and taking his arm walked back to the counter. "What did you find out?" I asked quickly.

Jimmy looked at me, "What? No good morning? No did you sleep well Jimmy?" He walked around the back of the counter and put on a pot of coffee making a big production of it. It seemed as if he was moving extra slow this morning.