The Heiress

The well dressed woman sat across the desk from Detective Cliff Bradley. "I could use a name," Cliff said.

"I don't know his name," the voluptuous woman curtly replied. 

"I mean yours, not the blackmailer."

"I'd rather not say until you've heard my story."

"Okay, I'm all ears."

"Well Mr. Bradley," she began.

"It's Cliff, doll."

"Yes, Cliff, she continued. "I met a man."

"Excuse me. I think I've heard this one before. It's about a handsome guy that you fell in love with who stole your virtue. You want his address."

"Not exactly, but close. Please don't be rude, Mr. Bradley. This is hard enough for me without you being sarcastic." She spoke with a quiet confidence.

"Sarcastic is what I do best doll," he said without appearing overly awkward with a beautiful woman sitting across from him. At this point, Bradley wished Ditzy had dusted the place and emptied the wastebaskets.

She ignored his comment and continued, "Look, Cliff, it was years ago when I was young. naive, and ambitious. Anyway, I met him at a dance hall. He was older than me but good looking and well dressed. I liked him and we dated.

"He was kind and gentle with me and was my first. A girl always remembers her first time. The thing is, I got pregnant at eighteen."

"So you want me to find this rat?" Cliff asked.

"Yes and no. I want you to find my daughter and find out who is blackmailing me."

"It would be easier if I had a name."

"I don't know my daughter's name. She was adopted shortly after I gave birth. I only know it was a healthy girl."

"What happened to the lucky guy?"

"I don't know. I never saw him again after he found out I was pregnant."

"Okay, and you want me to find him and the girl."

"Yes, and he is blackmailing me. I think that he knows I'm married to influence here in the City."

"I see. So it wouldn't look good if your background got around town."

"My husband would kill me if he found out."

"Sounds like a charming sort of guy."

"It gets worse, Mr. Bradley. The blackmailer sent some pictures of me when I was just out of high school."

She reached into her purse and took out an addressed envelope with her name and address blocked out. Inside were a half dozen black and whites and a note demanding $10,000. "Like I said, I was a young and ambitious girl. He said I was pretty and should be in pictures, the kind you see in the movies. At least that's what I thought he meant. He said he needed to take a few poses of me to show the movie producer he knew.

"At first he snapped a few of me in a bathing suit. He told me how beautiful I was; then he said I should show off more of my body and take off the bathing suit. So I did. These are reprints the blackmailer sent last week."

Cliff took the photos and fanned them like a hand full of cards. They weren't just of her nude. They were borderline pornographic. She sat on a bed with her legs spread. Cliff could tell she was no mere girl. Her breasts were well developed and one photo had her hand covering her bush. It looked like she had a finger buried inside. There was a fuzzy out of focus shot of her lips kissing his cock.

"Well, at least the guy got something right."

"What's that Mr. Bradley?"

"You're very pretty with or without clothes."

"Pretty is for wedding photographs, Mr. Bradley. I look like a common slut in these."

"I'd say sexy."

They were both right.

"Are there others like these, maybe more explicit?"

"That's a polite way of saying it, Cliff." It was Cliff again. "Yes, there are others that are more explicit but he didn't send them. I think he plans to send them if I don't pay up.

"I'm not proud of this Mr. Bradley although it was exciting at the time. One can't go back and change the past. The thing is, I need you to help me."

"And you said your name was?"

"Call me Audrey. Audrey Mitchell. At least that was my maiden name. You don't need to know my married name."

"I usually get a retainer of fifty to start, then forty dollars a day and expenses."

"Oh, I didn't come with any money, Cliff." She now had a more personal tone to her voice. "To tell you the truth, I got a little impulsive last week and bought this bling." She showed Cliff her diamond bracelet that was worth at least as much as what the blackmailer demanded. "My husband got mad about it and cut me off. I only get a small allowance now. Perhaps we can work something out at a Holiday Inn to satisfy your retainer."

"I don't know any Holiday Inn except in the movies."

"Will martinis at the Palmer House in the loop be okay, say tomorrow at seven thirty?"

"Sure, but don't expect a suit and tie." Audrey smiled and left his office, leaving the incriminating pictures behind.

The retainer went well and worth every dollar of his usual fee. After a couple of martinis, she took him to the penthouse, undressed him, then fucked him like a bitch in heat.

For a woman in her mid thirties, she had a body of a young Jane Russell. Her breasts were plumper than in the photos, and now she had a shaved pussy that was tighter than a sixteen year old virgin. She fucked like a whore. Audrey rewarded Cliff by riding him with the exuberance of a rodeo rider. She liked being on top, wanting it longer, harder, and deeper. Like they say about voting in Chicago, Audrey came early and often.

Bradley for his part kept a hard-on as if he had taken Viagra, if they had it back then. He was good for three creampies before the night was over.

"You know Cliff, good sex is better than a dozen roses and a box of chocolates. Sex with you is like getting the flowers and candy along with a pearl necklace. I should have told you that this wasn't just about your retainer. I haven't had sex with my husband for seven or eight months. I think he's been shacking up with some bimbo leaving me to take care of myself. I haven't felt the need for sex this much since high school. It must be what they call a middle age woman's sexual awakening. I needed it, Cliff. I needed it bad." And she caressed his cock and balls as if they were a string of pearls.

He believed her.

It only took a few days before Audrey returned to his office. She had a new set of photos and new demands. The new set of prints were indeed explicit to say the least. He must have used a tripod to get them both in the frame with his dick buried into her teenage cunt. Her eyes were closed; her legs were slightly bent and stretched wide open. Only the man's bare ass and the back of his head could be seen.

She laughed and said she thought that was when she got pregnant. "He was really horny that night, and I guess I was too. It's just that I should have been more careful. Who would have guessed having your picture taken at the moment of conception?" and she giggled again. "So what have you come up with, Cliff?"

"I checked the police files for pedophiles with the name you gave me. You said he called himself Nick or Nicholas."

"Yes, that's it," Audrey said, "but he never gave me his whole name. If we went to a hotel, it was always Mr. Smith."

"Did he have any distinguishing marks?"

"Yes, he had a cute little scar on the right side of his head. He said it was from an accident he had as a kid. Other than that and an oversize penis, he was pretty normal looking. Oh, and he liked younger girls like me. He said the women his age were all bitches."

"Audrey, I think he lives in California. The post marks on both letters are from Berkeley. I need to go there. Maybe he's at the University. Did he seem to be a student type?"

"No, he was too old to be a student. Maybe a teacher or professor."

"Do you want to go with me?" Bradley asked.

"I better not. My husband is the jealous type and easily gets suspicious."

"Wasn't he suspicious about our evening at the Palmer?"

"I don't think so. He was out of town for a few days. He takes business trips a couple of times a month."

"Okay, I'll be in touch when I get back."

"Bradley, I'm a little embarrassed to ask you this but can I see you before you leave?"

"Sure doll. What do you suggest, the Palmer House?"

"How about the Drake on Walton Place. Do you know it?"

"Yeah. I think Frank Nitto, 'the Enforcer' had a suite at the Drake."

"I don't know about a Mr. Nitto but my friend said it's a nice quiet hotel. She meets her boyfriend there when he is in town."

"I'm leaving on Friday and busy on Thursday. How about tonight?"

"I'll call you, "she said. "It depends on what my husband is doing."

Audrey called just as Bradley was putting on his hat, heading for the nearest saloon. "It's okay, Cliff," she said with an excited girlish tone of voice. He's got a meeting in Kankakee and won't be home until tomorrow. Take a shower and meet me at eight. And don't go for a drink before that."

"Okay doll. See you at eight."

She was another inferno of desire that night. Cliff could hardly keep up. The first time he came like shafts of heavy rain in a thunderstorm. Finally after the second time he said, "No more, babe. I can't go again. I'm drained."

She sighed and said, "Just one more time Cliff. I need another one so I don't forget you before you leave town." With that she took his cock in her mouth and massaged it with her lips and tongue.

It took some time until he rose to the occasion, then fucked her doggie until he collapsed and fell asleep. In the morning, Audrey was gone leaving behind an envelope with a dozen Benjamins for travel expenses. Her note said, "Found this in hubby's dinner jacket. Have a good time. Love and kisses, A.M."

After that, they never again talked about money.

California was like a foreign country to Cliff. The girls were all blond with big tits and wide smiles. They were friendly too. On the second night in San Francisco, he had a one night stand with Beverly. The next night it was Sylvia. Neither of them were over twenty years old. In between he checked out the photography stores in Berkeley. He hit pay dirt when a photo lab technician remembered duplicating the prints from a guy's negatives. "You don't forget pictures like that," the lab tech said.

The store still had the customer's name and address on file. The guy was easy to find. His name was Nick Perillo and a lab assistant at the museum. Perillo was Cliff's height and a dozen years younger. When Cliff confronted him at the museum, Perillo nearly collapsed in terror.

Perillo was shaking when he said, "I never thought it would come to this. I need the dough, and I heard that Audrey had money. I loved her. I really did. I just couldn't be a dad for her kid."

"Yeah Perillo and your kid. Look, she wants to press charges but these things get sticky, if you know what I mean. I might be able to talk her out of it, but I need all the pictures you've taken of her and the other girls you photographed. That includes the prints and the negatives. If it turns out you are holding out, she will press charges for blackmail and pornography. She's got some pretty damn good lawyers, Nick."

"Look Bradley, those pictures were a taken over a decade ago. I took a photography class at the University of Chicago. Part of the requirements was to photograph nudes. It's art gumshoe."

"And the class requirements also included knocking up your models?"

Nick Perillo glared at Cliff, then took a step back, turned, and left the museum with Cliff not far behind.

Cliff carried a box full of Nick Perillo's ambitious art work on the train back to Chicago. It was a three day trip, but the viewing material was instructive sending Bradley to the bathroom to pleasure himself a time or two.

He called Audrey as soon as he was back in his office. "I brought you home a present from California, doll, and it ain't chocolate and pearls."

"What, Cliff, a dozen roses?"

"Better still. I've brought home a few of your high school friends. Call when you can meet me in my office."

When he hung up, Ditzy asked, "What you got in that box?"

"There's a couple of deadly snakes in there that I'm keeping as pets. Wanna touch 'em?"

She frowned. "You're a dangerous man Mr. Bradley. That's why I like working here. By the way, a Miss Mitchell called asking if you were back yet."

"Thanks, Ditz. I've already called her back."

Audrey was anxious and curious about her present from California. He warned her that the material might be offensive to some viewers. With that proviso, she eagerly opened the box.

"Oh my god. I forgot he took this one of me giving him my first blowjob. I had no idea what I was doing. And here I'm on top of him. God how I like being on top."

She was almost giddy with nostalgia.

"Oh look, this is Milly! I didn't know she was fucking him too. And Barbara. Who would have guessed? She was so prim an proper all the girls hated her."

Audrey kept scavenging through the box looking for more friends. "Oh shit," she said. "This is my younger sister, Beth. She couldn't have been sixteen at the time. What is this creep's name?"

Cliff puffed on his Chesterfield and said, "The guy's name is Nick Perillo. He works in a lab at the museum. He isn't going to be anymore trouble."

"Did you snuff him out?"

"I don't work that way but believe me when I say, he's still having trouble keeping his shit out of his shorts."

"This is so great, Cliff. I don't know how to thank you."

"I can think of a way," he replied.

"You're on. I already made arrangements at the Blackstone on Michigan."

"Why keep changing locations, Audrey?"

"I'm known too well in the City and it wouldn't be wise to be a regular at any one place. We're not just meeting for coffee and cake you know, Bradley. By the way, have you found my daughter?"

"Give me a break. I just got back from the West Coast. The blackmail came first."

"I see your point," she said. "I'll see you at seven this evening and it wouldn't hurt if you wore a tie."

Bradley wore a tie but no dinner jacket. This time they had dinner and two bottles of the hotel's best champagne. They sat close to each other in a secluded table away from the bar. She kissed him deeply and passionately, an embrace that had her hand between his legs.

He said, "Let's finish this upstairs," She pressed her hand harder on his bulging groin, and they retreated to a small but adequate room on the second floor.

This time she was dressed for the occasion. Audrey wore a tiny crotchless garter panty set and a nearly invisible off the shoulder babydoll top. She looked like a model for a dirty erotic men's magazine and modeled for him turning in every direction to show off every erotic side. She bit her lower lip giving Cliff the impression she anticipated a fuck that would last a lifetime. As things turned out, that wasn't far from reality.

Cliff gave no resistance. Foreplay was needed as much as gasoline on a burning building. Audrey was ready. He plunged into her before she could say, "Fuck me."

He knew how she wanted it, and he gave it to her in every way she desired. Each time he thrust it home, she cried out with intense pleasure. The first time he came, it was a continuous stream of cum leaving her with tears of joy. She complimented him on his performance and said she was looking forward to the curtain call. His encore was a production not unlike the first. He ejaculated like a bolt of lightning in the deepest part of her bluechip cunt, hot and powerful. She squealed, then moaned and moaned, keeping him inside her until he shrunk like foam on a head of beer.

They rested until sunlight and started all over again, first orally, then in all of the positions they had used the night before.

After that night at the Blackstone, Cliff hadn't heard from her for nearly two weeks. He was worried. Finally, a call came in a week after Valentine's Day.

"Where have you been doll?"

"Cliff, he found out that I took his C- notes." Her voice was strained. "The phone at home is tapped. I'm in a phone booth on Clark and Madison, a couple of blocks from the Palmer." She sounded nervous.

"Don't leave," Bradley told her. "Give me a half hour. I'll be there as soon as possible."

"No Cliff. Don't come here. I'm being followed. The guy's not very good at it. My husband should have hired you," and she gave a nervous chuckle. "The maître d' at the Blackstone spotted us and blabbered it all over town. News travels place when you have a recognizable name. Anyway, what have you got on my baby?"

"Nothing much except for a few leads. Perillo knew nothing, of course, and was no help. I checked with the Red Cross. They had nothing on a teenager by the name of Audrey Mitchell."

"That's not the name I went by at the time. See what you can find for an Audrey Middleton," she told Bradley. She hurriedly went on and said, "The baby was born on February 25th, 1925 at Lutheran Deaconess Hospital in the City. I gotta go," and she abruptly slammed the receiver down as if someone had hung up for her. The phone went dead.

Bradley now was armed with a date and a place of birth. Deaconess was his first stop.

Ingrid is what she called herself. She was a matronly looking woman in Admissions who was as stingy with her smile as Ebenezer Scrooge was with his money. Bradley said he was hired by a family to locate a girl born at the hospital. Ingrid was suspicious and asked why the family hadn't contacted her.

"It's a sensitive matter, Ingrid," he said. "The family would rather be informed without it becoming too public. I'm sure you understand."

"Yes," she said. "We often get these kinds of requests. What's the name?"

He gave her the name Audrey gave him. "I think she gave birth under the name Middleton."

"And the year, Mr. Bradley?" she asked.

"1925, February."

"Excuse me. I'll see if we still have it in our records. Usually we keep them for only twenty years so they might have been shredded."

Cliff lit up a Chesterfield and waited. Fifteen minutes and a second cigarette later, Ingrid returned with a file. You're in luck, Mr. Bradley. We have an 'A. Mitchell' giving birth on February 25th of that year. It was a seven pound, three ounce girl. It shows the baby was adopted through an adoption agency the next day."

"What adoption agency was used?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Bradley, we don't have that kind of information. I'll give you a list of agencies you can try."

"Thank you, Ingrid. You've been very helpful. The family will be pleased to hear what you've told me."

"You're welcome Mr. Bradley. Let me warn you that these situations can get very emotional and even dangerous. The law does not permit divulging the name of the birth parents to the child. Just be careful."

"I understand. Thanks again."

The adoption agencies were all tight lipped and were unable or unwilling to help. Cliff Bradley had hit a dead end, or so he thought.

Gifts often come in small packages and that is what happened a few days later. "What are you giving me, Mr. Bradley?" Ditzy asked.

Cliff tried to avoid answering, then said, "I'm giving you twenty a week, Ditzy, like always. You're not askin' for a raise, are you?"

"No. It's my birthday today! My boyfriend is taking me out to dinner. He said there's a new pizza place on East Ohio Street called Uno or something like that. Everyone is talking about their deep dish pizza. I can't wait! Maybe he will ask me to marry him tonight."

"That would be great, Ditzy. I'm thinking about giving you typing lessons."

"Oh Mr. Bradley, I don't think I need that. I can already type seventeen words a minute."

"That fast? Amazing!" Cliff satirically replied. "So what's today, anyway, I mean the date?"

"It's my birthday, February 25th, silly. Don't you ever check your calendar?"

"Not if I can help it, Ditz." But the date rang a bell. A small black notebook in his desk drawer confirmed what rang in Bradley's head. Curiously, Audrey had given birth on that same date, and Audrey's child would be Loretta's age. Bradley had only one more call to make. It was a short conversation with Ditzy's mom confirming she had been adopted from Lutheran Deaconess Hospital.

Bradley had everything he needed to tell Audrey that he had found her daughter. "How ironic," he thought. She had been in full view all along. Why hadn't he seen Loretta's likeness to Audrey? Ditzy looked exactly like the pictures of Audrey at eighteen. It's just that now Cliff had no way to contact Audrey. The newspaper did it for him. It read, "Heiress Found Floating in the Chicago River." She had been identified by the jeweler that sold her a diamond bracelet found on her body. The paper said no investigation had been initiated. Her death was assumed to be suicidal.