Sam Spade 02: Case of the Mysterious Mask

"Damnit Jimmy." I said harshly, "I'm under the gun and don't have time to dick around. What do you know?" I should have known better to push Jimmy like that but my nerves were frazzled.

He acted as if he had not heard me and puttered around the shop turning on lights here and there. It was not until the coffee had finished dripping that he finally poured a cup for both of us and sat down on his stool behind the counter. Looking at me he sipped his coffee and said, "Good morning Samantha. Did you know you look like hell?"

I sat down on the stool across from his and rested my head on the counter sobbing softly. Jimmy hurried around from his side of the counter and stroked my back. I turned and clung to him crying against his chest. The events of the last two days came tumbling out as I told him what was going on. In the past, whenever I was facing a tough nut, I could talk it through with Jimmy the Geek and he would listen and guide me. Up until I found my past though, Jimmy would never let me touch him. Now I needed his strong comforting arms around me more than ever. Like the bear, he made everything seem like it was going to work out.

Jimmy's first words to me after my telling was, "I believe you Samantha." Looking up into his compassionate face I smiled slightly. In all the years I had known him, he had been like a big brother I had never had. "All better now?" he asked as he let go and moved back to his side of the counter.

Nodding I wiped the tears away, "Yes thank you."

"As I see it, your problem breaks down into several parts. First the mask, the letters, knowledge of your files, why, and finally who." He said sipping on his coffee. "So... Let's talk about the mask first." He put on a pair of rubber gloves and retrieved the mask. Placing it on the counter between us he said, "What do you see?"

I looked at Jimmy. He always was able to cut through the bullshit when needed. Looking at the mask I said simply, "I see the mask... what is it? Drugs? Is there an antidote?"

Jimmy shook his head and flipped a switch. Over the mask a hologram of it appeared. Adjusting something the hologram zoomed and I could see the mask was made up of millions of tiny robot spider looking things. "Nanites" he said. "Billions of them, each one programmed to change the wearer on a molecular level." He looked at me through the display and added, "Red, this is real blue sky stuff." Turning off the display he said softly, "Sam, this mask is... brilliant class programming."

"Brilliant class?" I asked. I hated it when people who knew assumed the rest of us knew what they were meaning.

Jimmy wiped his hand over his face, "Okay, let me see if I can give you an example." He thought for a moment before saying, "Ok think about a robot. They have a set of programming and follow it. Now think about Angela, she learns as she goes and modifies her programming." He reached but did not touch the mask. "That's what this is mask is. It learns what is wanted and modifies the wearer."

"Who makes these things?" I asked still trying to get my mind wrapped around the idea of smart nanites the size of a tip of a needle.

"You're not going to like this Red." Jimmy replied, "There is one maker and it seems a Dr. Sam Spade ordered 12 of them for research in behavior modification for St. Judes mental hospital. I called them and there is no Dr. Spade on the staff and they did not order behavior masks as they are known." He paused and then continued, "I hacked into their shipping records and found they were delivered to a post office box. I then went and hacked into the postal service and found the owner of the box." Not meeting my eye, he stopped.

"Let me guess, I own the box." I said wearily. He nodded. "Damnit, everything leads to a dead end." I said frustrated. "How do I reverse the programming?" I paused and then asked, "For that matter how did it effect Angela?"

Jimmy shook his head, "You can't. You can go forward, but the bots are not able to remove any changes they made. That is one of the bugs in the system and has not been worked out yet. As for Angela, the mask acts like a computer virus. However, she has to disable her virus protection for it to work and even then it is only temporary." He looked sadly at me, "I'm sorry Samantha, the others will always feel the effect of the masks." He paused a moment and then pushed a piece of paper and pen at me. "I know how the notes you speak of were done. That part is easy, just write a little note to anyone and sign it as a personal note."

I looked at him and took the paper. Pausing a moment, I wrote a thank you letter to him for all his help. "Okay here you go."

Jimmy barely glanced at it before putting it in a scanner. He typed some and after a minute, the printer hummed to life, spitting out a piece of paper. Holding it up he read it aloud, "Jimmy, my darling, I cannot hold back my feelings anymore. Under the mask, I show the world I am but a little girl in your strong arms. I love you more than life itself, but fates have dealt us a different set of cards. Please take this mask, and wear it every so often, think of my devotion and love for you. Samantha" He handed me the piece of paper with a smile.

Looking at it, I was dumbfounded; it was my handwriting and signature on the paper. If I had not just seen it with my own eyes, I would have never believed it. Even the wording would have been something I could have said had I felt that way towards Jimmy. "Damn!"

Jimmy smiled, "If I had gotten that and the mask I would have put it on just to make you happy. One time wearing it and I would have been hooked for life." He patted the printer and smiled, "you said purple ink and colored paper?" I nodded still staring at the paper. He loaded some paper into the printer and then typed a couple commands, again the printer hummed to life and he handed me another sheet. This time the words were purple and the paper green. "It is off the shelf software Sam, nothing special."

I looked at Jimmy a thought going through my mind, 'he could have done it all to get me.' I looked back at the paper and thought, 'Jimmy has the expertise to pull it off and if the wording on the letter came from his heart then I have the motive, unreturned love.' All in one shot, I knew whom, how, and why. I needed to get out of here alive, show these to Angela, and with her help figure how to stop him. Grabbing the mask and 3 pieces of paper, I smiled sweetly, "Thanks Jimmy. You have been a big help."

Jimmy looked at me, "Red... you don't think I had anything to do with this do you?"

I shook my head, "no of course not."

"You are a worse liar then your dad was Sam," he said not making a move. "I knew about you and Angela long before your dad did. If I wanted you, I would have told you that by wearing the mask in your hand, you could reverse the effects of the others. Then, when you put it on turn you into loving me passionately forsaking everyone else." He paused and looked at me through his thick glasses sadly, "But you will note I did not. If I were the one who is framing, you would I have helped you?"

I looked at the mask feeling guilty. Jimmy was my friend; He had helped me for many years. How did I repay him, by thinking that he was out to ruin my life? Looking up at him, "I'm sorry Jimmy. I don't know what came over me."

"It's ok Red" he replied.

As I left, the small voice in the back of my mind still wondered if Jimmy really wanted me for more than a friend. As I drove to the house, one of my three questions had been answered. I now knew "how." I needed to talk to Angela and even though she thought I was guilty, I needed her logical mind. Somehow, instead of going back to the house I ended up parked at the office. Going in I went and sat down behind my desk. I used to be able to do this before alone without Angela's or Jimmy's help. Now, it seemed as if I could not function without their help, "Face it Sam, you're going soft." I said. Taking out a pen and paper, I started going through my questions writing them out.

How

• Masks made up of nanites to change behavior

• Program to change and copy handwriting

Motive

• Revenge

• Love

• Protection

Questions

• What point of cloaks?

• Who bought them?

• How do I change the programming?

• What are in the folders on the bed?

I looked over the list and knew I was missing something important. But, for the life of me I could not see what it was. All I needed was one break and I would be able to crack this wide open. My problem though was that even if I knew how and who and even why, how would I be able to function with twelve porcelain sluts distracting me.

I must admit I sat at the desk a long time looking at the mask, stroking it with my fingers. I thought about just putting it on and telling myself, "I am nothing more than a porcelain slut that lives for pleasure." I was stumped, for the first time that I could remember I had no clue about where to go or what to do. Looking over the questions again, I knew I had to go home, to look at the folders, to examine the cloak once more. Perhaps there I would find my answer.

When I arrived home, I found a mixed blessing. On one hand, Angela was there and I could share what I had found out. However, at the same time there were three new masked women, bringing the total up to six. I did not expect her to work so fast. I had expected to have a week or so at least to solve this. At the rate Angela was rounding up the herd I had another day at most. She was in the middle of the floor in the living room with six women making love to her and each other. The scent of their passion weighed heavily in the air. I know she saw my entrance and after she beckoned me to join them, she returned to the pleasures she was receiving. I had to turn away and hurry to the bedroom, the sight of her and them together made me wet with excitement. If I had stayed, I would have become lost in the pleasure and joined the orgy.

Closing the bedroom door behind me I saw that all the folders were now sitting neatly stacked on the bedside table. Going through them, I pulled the four that Angela had not used in her accusations earlier. I would have loved to ask her what made her pull those four. However, considering what she was doing right now, I decided my questions could wait.

Glancing at the folders, I noticed they were all men. None of them stuck out in any way that I could see. "Damnit!" I said frustrated and threw them down on the floor scattering the pages like confetti. If I could not find a solution, then I might as well don a mask and join in the fun. As I walked to the door, my eye caught a face in a picture from one of the folders. I stopped dead and stared at it. Bending down and pulling it the rest of the way out of the pile, I stared at it. "Of course!" I said as everything dropped into place. Sitting down I picked up the pages and went through the case. As I looked at it, the memories flooded back as if a dam had broken in my mind.

Several years ago, when I was first starting out, I was contacted by a John and Mary Jameson to find their missing daughter. She had run away from home at the age of eighteen and the police came up dry as to her location. By the time they called me, Cindy, their daughter, had been missing for almost 4 months. I would love to say finding her was a piece of cake, but it wasn't. Any trail that she left had turned cold long before I ever came onto the scene. The only real information was a card she had sent to her best friend posted from New Orleans, Louisiana.

With the postcard and her picture in hand, I headed to the crescent city. New Orleans is famous for its French Quarter, and as the birthplace of Jazz. But it is also known for its underground flesh pots, where you can buy any type of sexual act if you have the cash. As you can guess, I found her working in one of the private houses. All of the patrons wore "Mardi Gras" masks to keep their identity secret. An ugly undertone to the house was that not only were the girls conditioned to do and desire anything, but when a guest entered the girl would use capture scent and make the patron give up any information that later could be used for blackmail or insider trading. It took time for me to find everything I needed to pull her out of there. I knew once we were out I would have to work fast or I would end up becoming a working girl like her.

I entered the house wearing a cloak and full-face mask to hide my features. Just outside of Cindy's room, I used little candies that would act like capture scent. I had decided that the only way to get her out was to do to her what she had been doing to others. Entering the room Cindy flowed towards me, moving as if she were a panther stalking her prey. I suckered her into eating a piece of candy.

I guided her over to the small bed and helped her lay down. Removing the mask, I put it over her face and said softly, "So good to obey... Feel the mask consuming your mind, your thoughts, leaving nothing but a good girl slut for her mistress." She nodded up at me and I could hear her breath coming fast. "You need to obey... the mask owns you, sucking everything out, turning you into a masked slut... nothing else matters but my pleasure."

I repeated the words driving out her conditioning and cleaning her mind. I knew that we would have to work to free her from the new pattering I was placing. At least there, it would be safer. When I judged the mask consumed her, I had her stand, put the cloak on to conceal her body, and lead her out the door as if nothing was out of the ordinary. We made it clear of the house and back home. I had to keep her in the apartment for several days. I kept the mask on her imprinting the idea that it was sucking everything out leaving her a hollow shell and a slut for her mistress. It took the better part of a week before she stopped trying to run away.

It took another week for me to put her back together again. When I was done, she was able to function in the outside world. I let her keep the mask so if any bad memories came along she could place it over her face and feel them being sucked out. Then I reunited her with her parents.

Now and then I would get a letter from her thanking me for my help and asking if she could come stay with me or at least visit. Each time I would beg off with an excuse. It was not until Angela came back into my life that the letters stopped. Looking back at everything, I should have seen it. The masks, the cloaks, a sales woman with her name, all pointed to Cindy.

Now that I knew who, and how, I just needed to figure out why and find her. The thoughts crossed my mind that she was out to ruin or join me as my porcelain slut. If the second were the case, then she would be hidden as one of the masked women who will show up. Standing I went out to pull Angela away from her pleasure and share what I had found out. To my dismay, I found that she had already left to collect more names from the list. How long she had been gone, I did not know.

I don't know how long I stood there enthralled watching the six women make love before one of them, Lady Heather, noticed I was there. Like a pack of puppies, they swarmed and pulled me into the room fully. Soon I was lost in the pleasure of their tongues and hands, I did not care that my clothes were ripped from my body. Time lost all meaning, I was fed in place, hand washed, and even dozed in the midst of a passionate love session. All too soon for my comfort, there were more faces added to the group. As a new girl was added, the others would induct her into becoming a good porcelain slut for her mistress. Then and only then she would be bought to me and prostrate herself. I was drunk with power over these women.

Finally, Angela crawled up before me, her nude figure glowing with oil in the light, holding a mask. In her soft voice she said, "It is time... Take me, make me a porcelain slut for your pleasure."

Not thinking or even aware I took the mask and placed it over her face. I kissed her lovingly and then taking her hand guided her to the others who had stopped and watched us. "Teach her well," I said to them and moved to the couch to watch as my fingers caressed my swollen nipples and wet mound. They moved to Angela as with every woman before and seduced her with the pleasure the mask held. Even though her brain was cybertronic she too found the pleasure it offered.

When they were done with her, Angela crawled to me and rested her head against my feet. "What are you?" I asked looking down at her.

Without raising her head Angela said, "Your porcelain slut mistress."

"Kiss me, worship my body," I said the rush of having power over these women coursing through my mind. I felt her cold lips working their way up my body and to my mound. Since we had been together so long Angela knew exactly how to please me and brought me to a quick orgasm. My hands twined in her hair held her in place. I was not done with my burning need yet. Again, I orgasmed, my body twitched as if shocked. Releasing her head, I let her work her way up to my breasts, neck and lips.

Looking me in the eye she said in a whisper, "I love you Samantha, no matter what you did and why. I am yours now and forever, your porcelain covered slut and nothing more."

Her words shocked me back to my senses. "What have I done?" I cried realizing I had transformed my love, my soul mate, into a mindless fuck bunny. I reeled with self-loathing as I pushed her away and ran to the bedroom. Slamming the door behind me I threw the lock and hurtled myself into the bed. Sobbing I ignored the tentative knocks at the door. I knew the sluts would be worried that they had done something wrong. Nevertheless, I could not bear to face them. I could not bear to face myself.

I had won the battle, solved the case and had a good idea how to get Cindy to show herself. But at what cost? The women were now mindless fuck bunnies as was my love Angela. Yes, I had won the battle, but had lost the war in the process. I had turned into the type of person I hated most of all, the type that would use and degrade others. The self-loathing filled me until it had driven everything else out. All the good I had done over the years helping others no longer seemed to matter.

Sitting up in the bed, leaning over to the bedside table, pulling out dads old Colt 45, I completed life and its cost. Tears were streaming down my cheeks as I pulled back the cocking mechanism. Placing the cold muzzle under my chin, I said in a brokenhearted voice, "Please forgive me Angela, I'm sorry Daddy," and pulled the trigger.

The sound of the door crashing open cause me to jerk the trigger and instead of blowing my head off, the bullet grazed my cheek on the way to the stars. Angela screamed, "No" as she ran at superhuman speed across the room and knocked the pistol from my hand before I could fire again.

With one hand, she whipped off the mask and threw it to the side. Hugging me close she said through hot tears, "I'll not lose you again Samantha." Over her shoulder, I saw the mask had cracked down the middle. Closing my eyes, I hugged her back crying as if I were a baby. Without moving away from me, she said, "You others... Out! And close the door behind you!" her voice commanding.

Angela held me close stroking my hair as I sobbed. Once I had got over my crying jig, she held me at arm's length and said, "What were you thinking?" She stood and walked over to dad's old 45 and picked it up. Looking down at it, she said in a quiet voice, "Did you think that this would solve the mess you started Samantha?" She looked towards the broken door, "What about the eleven women whose lives are as cracked as my mask now. What about them?" Looking at me, I could see the anger in Angela's eyes threatening to explode, "What about them?"