The Dorvak Protocol 12
Harold “Fatso” Carson waited in his hot car at the gate of the Breckinridge Mansion. The guard was a buddy from back when Carson was part of the agency’s “Muscle Squad.” Johnny mostly ran an up and up operation, but there were times the agency needed men better at breaking jaws than finding clues. Sometimes they were needed for security. Sometimes a two bit gigolo needed to be persuaded to lay off some rich man’s daughter. Sometimes a blackmailer needed to be shown the error of his ways. So the Muscle Squad was born.
Johnny had his code, though, and Fatso had broken it ten too many times. It’s one thing to use violence, it’s another if you like it too much. His firing was one of Johnny’s last official acts, and the parting had not been friendly.
“You coming back with us, Harry?” The guard was smart enough not use his nickname. Johnny had always said Carson looked like Ernest Borgnine’s character in “From Here to Eternity”, the sadistic stockade sergeant Fatso Judson. Within the agency the nickname stuck, though Carson made it known it wasn’t appreciated.
“You tell me. I hear Mr. Shakey is food for worms, so I call up. They tell me Miss Va Va Va Voom wants to see me.”
The guard looked around, then quietly said. ”Yeah....she’s in charge...... now the boss is dead. Go figure. She has some crazy ideas about running a detective agency.”
“Well, anybody ‘d be better than Mr. Shaky. It got so I got sick looking at him, the stuttering prick. Pathetic.“
The guardhouse phone rang, and Carson was waived through.
His beat up Plymouth looked out a place with the fancy cars and contractor trucks in the driveway. Workmen were going in and out the garage and front door, and Carson heard power tools in use. He lumbered out, and ran a comb through his greasy, thinning hair. Despite his natural arrogance, he really needed the paycheck. He took in the Post Modern mansion, which was a series of box like structures made of steel and glass. He’d only been there once, for an office holiday get together where he’d been the life of the party. He was never invited back. Of course, he blamed Dupuis for that.
His thoughts were broken by a familiar voice.
“Mr. Carson, over here.”
He ambled over time the side of the driveway and looked down at the poolside patio. The mansion was carved out of the side of a seaside cliff with a spectacular view of the Pacific. But Fatso didn’t look at the ocean. Miss Va Va Va Voom herself was stretched out on a pool lounger. At the office, Norma’s drab secretarial clothes, bun like hair style, and reading glasses never concealed how mouthwatering gorgeous a woman she was. Here, she wore a black one piece that showed her ample cleavage. A large floppy hat was on her platinum blonde mane and large black shades concealed her eyes.
At the end of Norma’s long legs, a raven haired women kneeled on her bare heels on the coarse pool deck, her back to Carson. She appeared to to be giving Norma a pedicure. She was not in a bathing suit, but instead seemed to be dressed in a costume shop version of a sexy waitress, complete with apron and pointed cap.
Norma smiled at his thunderstruck expression.
“C’mon down, Mr. Carson.”
Carson used the steep stairs to the pool deck. Soon he stood to the side of the deck lounger, trying hard to not stare at Norma’s Lycra covered breasts. She just stared back at him with her odd smile.
Fatso broke first, and spoke.
“Thanks for seeing me, Mrs. Breckinridge....”
“Norma, please ....we’re all friends here....isn’t that right, Harry?” Her voice was silky smooth, not the businesslike tone he was used to from her at the office.
He shook his head in agreement. Norma sat up without withdrawing her feet from the pedicurist.
“Now Harry.....sadly I’ve had to let Bart Patterson go. He’s a fine detective and a real swell fellow, but he was always asking annoying questions. I’d ask him to do something for me, something important to me....and he’d start with the questions. What I need is someone who’ll run the agency the way I need it run, without any pesky questions. Tell me, Harry, you wouldn’t ask me a bunch of pesky questions, would you? You’d just get the job done, right?”
Carson was overwhelmed. He was down to living in a skid row motel, and he’d been prepared to beg for his old job on the Muscle Squad. Now, it sounded like Miss Va Va Voom was offering him something a whole lot better.
“You want me to be the number two guy at the Agency?”
Instead of answering Norma took off her shades and studied her now pink tipped toes.
“That’s better, Waitress. You can start drying them now.”
“Yes, Goddess.” The kneeling woman bent over and began gently blowing on Norma’s damp toenails.
Carson found the new voice familiar and he focused for the first time on the other woman present. His eyes widened.
“Holy shit....that’s....that’s....”
Norma laughed. “Oh, where are my manners. Angelina, dear...you remember Mr. Carson....from the Agency?” Her voice was sickeningly sweet.
Angie slowly looked up from Norma’s feet.
“Yes, Goddess. I remember him.”
“Well, don’t be shy, say hello to Mr. Carson.”
Angie’s head turned toward him, her expression blank.
“Hello, Mr. Carson.”
Having obeyed, Angie resumed blowing on the toes.
Carson was shaken. The Dupuis dame had always been forceful and cocky. He looked back at Norma.
“The Fuck is going on here? She hopped up on something?”
The smile faded from Norma’s voice. “Now, Harry. That’s exactly the kind of pesky question Old Bart would ask. Maybe you don’t want the fifty grand a year plus bonuses. Not to mention the nightly perks I can promise. Too bad if.....”
Carson realized he was fucking up. He chanced interrupting.
“I’m your man, Mrs. Breckinridge..........no questions asked. You need something done, I’ll get it done.....no questions asked. Anything....”
An impossibly sweet smile bloomed on Norma’s exquisite face.
“Capital. Welcome back, Harry.” She withdrew her feet from Angie’s ministrations and stood. She slowly padded over to him, and put her arms around his girth. She brushed her lips against his ear, and whispered.
“I need Johnny’s boy brought to me, alive. Also, Trevor Dupuis and his girlfriend. Bart, he needs to disappear. Will you do that for me, Harry?”
Fatso Carson felt Norma’s hardened nipples through the black suit. He felt light headed and could only nod his head.
Norma suddenly released him, and turned. “Well, Darling, get on with it.” She began padding towards the house.
Carson regained his composure. He didn’t like taking orders from any dame. He needed to show her he was a man.
“You mentioned perks......maybe we could go somewhere private and discuss what you meant.“
Norma stopped in her tracks. She kept her back to him so he wouldn’t see the disgust on her face. Her voice though sounded warm and sensual.
“Oh, Harry, you do your job, and you’ll have all the pretty perks you can handle. You do a real good job, maybe you and I can have that little talk. I like tough guys. I tell you what, you deserve a bit of a hiring bonus.”
She sauntered back to where Angie kneeled on the rough, hot patio, and bent over. She used her long finger to lift Angie’s face by the chin.
“Waitress, you know you must obey me.”
“Yes, Goddess. We have said the words and I must obey.”
“That’s right. Now, after I go inside, you will make out with Harry here for about fifteen minutes. Make it real nice, plenty of tongue. Let him feel up your knockers if he wants. But nothing else, for now. Understand, Waitress?”
“Yes, Goddess.”
Norma looked back at Fatso.
“Now, don’t manhandle my property. And keep it to 15 minutes. You have work to do.”
Fatso, speechless again, just nodded his head.
Bart took the silenced pistol as Trevor programmed Daisy.
“Go ahead and repeat your instructions, Daisy.”
“Yes, Comrade. I will go to the pay phone. I will sound just as I should. I will hide that you have triggered me. I will make my report. All is going well, we should have the papers soon. But it is a sensitive situation, and no other operatives should come.”
Bart shook his head. “You really think we can trust her?”
“Yeah, she’ll obey me for now. But, if they trigger her, all bets are off.
“Typical. Even hypnotized, with the ladies, it’s always what you’ve done for me lately.”
“Look, Bart, our real problem is information. We got to know what Bad Norma is up too.”
Bart laughed. “Yeah, I’m working on that.
Patty felt the contractor’s gaze on her taunt, gymnast body. Mumsy had commanded she forego her cheerleader uniform for this meeting, so she wore a stylish blouse and sensible skirt. Her feet, of course were bare. They were walking through the large living room.
“So Mr. Circcorne, when will the spa be done? My stepmother and I have paid you handsomely for what you promised would be a quick turnaround.”
“Look, you ladies worked miracles in getting the permits. And the new dormitory, that’s easy....we’re just converting the guest wing. But, this spa....that’s a different story. We gotta reroute a lot of plumbing. The specifications for the...the..foot baths, the colored lights.....they’re real specific. We’ll get it done in a week, ten days at most, but.....”
“How much more, Mr. Circcorne?”
Charlie Drake stood on a ladder not thirty feet away, busily installing a bug in the recessed light fixture. Luckily, Old Man Circcorne owed Bart a favor or two.
Drake had never met Patricia Breckinridge, and had always worked alone, answering only to Johnny and Bart. He particularly stayed away from the apes of the Muscle Squad. So he felt momentarily safe. The scary part had been in the morning, when Mrs. Dupuis had brushed passed him in a hallway. She knew him real well. He thought he was a goner, but she just walked past in her weird waitress outfit, carrying a breakfast tray. It was if he didn’t exist.
Norma strolled into the master bedroom and poured herself a stiff drink. She then went to the dressing table. There she used a razor blade to cut and line up some cocaine. She did a line, then stood, holding a riding crop. She then looked at Dori and Nancy, who stood in opposite corners, their backs to their Goddess. Their pants were pooled around their bare feet, and angry red welts were on their buttocks.
“Now, Darlings. Let us resume. You know why I’m cross with you two.” She tapped the crop gently on Dori’s ass.
Dori spoke first. “We disobeyed Goddess. We failed to bring Petey.”
Norma’s face darkened. “That’s right you stupid twit....you didn’t obey me.” She brought the crop up high, behind her head. But before she could bring it down, Nancy spoke.
“But Goddess, we did obey.....with the tape cassette, at least.”
Norma dropped the riding crop. In her fury over their failure with Petey, she’d forgotten all about the tape.
She smiled.