Kerosene Dreams & Bloody Kisses (Kassyghost & Victorian_Virtue)

[Kassyghost]

Greta Thesing sat in the backseat of a Yellow Cab Co. Packard staring out the window at the grey overcast skies through the passing palm trees. The Autumn of 1952 was particularly inclimate for Hollywood due to something the papers were calling La Niña and although Greta could only speak broken Spanish she knew 'the girl' must be on her menzies-cycle as this rain and cool temperatures were less than hospitable. It seemed like every night since October had sprung was either a mixture of uncharacteristic fog and rain or wind and down right cold temperatures. She'd moved out to L.A after hearing rumors of year round beautiful weather and the promise of streets paved in gold and cinematic aspirations at finger's reach. Of course the truth of the matter was that although she was considered quite fetching and all together charismatic by back home's standards; Detroit, here in the City of Angels she was little more than just another pretty face and a set of agile fingers that could produce 66 words per minute while typing. Now you add wonky weather on top of dashed dreams and things didn't seem so wonderful at all.

To be honest, things really could have been worse, she had an apartment as well as a fairly good job, not acting on the Silver Screen but still not bad all things considered. A temp agency had placed her as a secretary at the Standard Oil Company and due to her midwest work ethic and go-getter attitude she quickly rose through the ranks and ended up landing the pristine position of personal assistant to one, Sigmund Edgar Kain III, current CEO and prominent political influencer of the southern California region. The job paid well and although extremely demanding, she had no current suitors to distract her so she excelled at this endeavor as well. Mr. Kain was a demanding boss but he was also an extremely private man, so although she was a personal assistant by job title, her actual duties rarely gave her any insight into the business mogul's personal life. This particular fact was why it seemed so strange that she'd been elected to carry out the task currently at hand.

Mr. Kain had recently passed away and To Greta's shocking surprise she'd been tasked with fulfilling the duty of Executor of his last Will & Testament. Of course Greta had protested, claiming it was more a job for a lawyer than a secretary, but Mr. Kain's wishes had been quite explicit as his personal Lawyer had explained. To which, Greta noted that his lawyer didn't seem terribly pleased about either. As she came to read in the document, her first task was to acquire the services of a very specific Private Detective, Mr. James MacIllaney. To Greta, this name meant nothing, nor had she ever heard of such a man. One would think that such an affluent person as Mr. Kain would want the most elite and well known investigative services but again this didn't surprise her, as Mr. Kain was both peculiar in nature as much as he was particular in his tastes.

Most of the document was your typical 50 cent lawyer jargon and most of which she was fairly familiar with after doing paperwork for a major corporation for years, around 45 pages of : 'testator' (Previously mentioned slighted lawyer), 'executrix' (Herself) , 'devisees' (Which included Wife, Daughter and Son OR something called Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, which she could find absolutely no listings for in California or the National directory. ) , 'per stirpes' (Several hundred acres spread across California, Arizona, and Utah and several large estate houses.) as well as per capita ($3.5 million), ect, ect, ect... and it all seemed to be in order. However the next 25 pages were written in either a language she couldn't identify or some symbolic pictographs, of which all of her research in the Los Angeles Public Library turned up nothing on.

"We're here miss, your total is a Buck Ten..." The cabby said, interrupting her deep almost hypnotic internal contemplation. Greta snapped back to reality and pulled her stylish horned rimmed Cat's eye glasses from her face, folding them and tucking them into her pillbox purse. Inside she pulled out four quarters and a dime and reached up and dropped them into the cabby's hand. "Gee thanks for the tip..." He grumbled sarcastically.

She ignored jab and gathered the documents back into her leather folding accordion case and took her leave of the rude working man's chauffeur. Once out onto the street she took a minute to make sure she was presentable. Sitting in taxi cabs always played havoc on the lines of her slate gray pencil skirt and she carefully smoothed the garment clean. A brief glance at her modest twin set light gray cardigan sweater and the salmon peter pan collar blouse underneath to make sure none of the cabby's cigar ashes had made their home and burned any holes. Thankfully she was free of damage, that was until she looked down and peered at the scuff mark on the side of her peep toe ruby pumps. "Drat!" She exclaimed, bending low and wetting a kerchief with some spit before rubbing the blemish away. Of course the sudden bending motion had rustled her hair so she stopped at a large pane glass window and made sure her perfectly kept raven locks were still flawlessly styled the brushed-under bob she was known for. Her dark brown eyes flashing back at her from the reflection which brought a broad smile to her ruby lips. "They don't know what they're talking about do they Greta...You would have made a spectacular starlet in the pictures." She complimented herself, but was caught off guard as semi translucent reflection suddenly dissipated as someone one the other side of the store front window appeared looking back down at her with a smile.

Greta gasp and stood back looking up the the sign on the building, "Lucky Mick Investigations". Dear God, what a first impression, she was firstly embarrassed for her own vanity but secondly it dawned on her why she'd never heard of this fellow's Private Dick firm, afterall who would hire a potato eating, beer chugging Mick to solve crimes? She stepped up onto the entry way and rung the door buzzer, doing her best to push the blush from her cheeks. As the door opened she was greeted by and not all together unhandsome man, though the scar on his face did nothing to displace the swarthy stereotype his business name implied, but atleast he was dressed well.

"Good afternoon....Mr. MacIllaney I presume? My name is Miss Thesing, I'm here to discuss some legal documents regarding Mr. Sigmund Kain the third's last will and testament, You may have known him as Colonel Kain, from your regiment in the last war. I understand you served under his command? May I come in so that we can discuss this in more a comfortable setting. I'm afraid this damp weather does nothing for my hair." Greta asked, trying to cover for her earlier self admiration in the man's window.

 

[Kassyghost]

Miss Thesing was neither a fool nor was she foolish and she got the gist of what the filthy Irishman was talking about even without him having to finish his sentence. She had no doubts about what servicemen did in their free time in Sydney although hearing that the late Colonel Kain was involved in something like that was mildly surprising. He'd been her employer for close to a decade before passing away and never once had he so much as given her even a pat on the bottom for a job well done. This was an oddity in this day and age and Greta knew it full well. Men were entitled and they used such entitlement to lord their power over women in the workplace, usually by casually fondling them, but not Mr. Kain. He'd always seemed almost asexual to Greta, that being said he certainly had other vices but never once had he even so much as patted her shoulder.

Greta nodded and entered the office space as Mr. MacIllany had invited her inside. It wasn't large, little more that a single room with a closet space off to the north corner. The door was open and Greta could see a small unkempt cot inside with a drool stained pillow and a ratty blanket draped over it, she pretended to ignore it and walked to the office chair and took a seat. She set her leather folding briefcase on the floor, opened it and produced her paperwork. "I'm not going to pretend to not smell the booze on your breath Mr. MacIllany, I would hope that you're still sober enough at this hour to comprehend what I'm saying. As I said Mr. Kain has recently passed away and upon his untimely demise he's instructed me to acquire your services professionally. I personally would have procured a more....note worthy investigator but Mr. Kain specifically asked for you. I suppose it has something to do with serving with him under his command during the war. " She stated flatly as she unfolded the manila folder on his messy desk.

"As I am sure you may have heard Mr. Kain's death was both as untimely as it was unexpected. Yes he was old but his health was impeccable and the circumstances surrounding his passing are as mysterious as they are suspicious. The papers only reported that he was taken swiftly by a surprise in "Cardiac event" at his home last Wednesday night but I can assure you that description is by far understated. This is the corner's report and as you can see clearly here, that this wasn't your everyday average heart attack. Mr. Kain had recently had a physical and the Doctor said his heart was in excellent condition for a man of his age. He neither drank or smoked as I am sure you knew. " Greta stated pointing at the basic outline of a human form illustrated on the page. The Corner had noted a large incision on the back of the victim. "Mr. Kain was missing his heart, No blood was left within in his body, nor was any found at the scene. He was found at his desk in his home study by the maid." She said flipping to the next sheet of paper, this one was a photograph taken by the local PD. It showed Mr.Kain's slumped form at his desk, the hole in his back quite obvious. In one hand held a silver envelope opener and in the other a black sphere made of marble, possibly a paper weight. Directly under his pale face was an ancient tome, several pages were ripped out.

"The police were little help and although this is obviously a murder, they ruled it was just a very strange natural death if you can believe that. I've read in the dossier Mr. Kain prepared on you...." She said, pulling out another file and opening it onto the desk, this one had even the smallest details of James MacIllany's life, even from before his time in service for the country. "I see that you too were a member of the prestigious LAPD.... until you were let go for issues concerning your extracurricular libations on the job. Maybe you could shed some light on what sort of natural causes an otherwise healthy man dies from having his heart and blood removed." She finished staring up at Jame's glassy eyes.

 

[Kassyghost]

Greta's gaze floated from the files laid out on the desk and Jame's face as she had spouted her presentation, and her hopes were bolstered as he actually seemed fairly receptive at first, but as her spiel came to an end and he made the assumption that it was little more than a ghost story, she huffed in frustration. To emphasize the point she shot another hard glare back at the crime scene photo again and then back to Jame's one final time. "Cardiac Event? Really?" She scoffed.

Underneath the photo of the late Mr. Kain was a memo she'd found in his office, the preprinted head was embossed in gold leaf and it had an ornate seal, under which was written Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn. She reached forward to move the photograph and bring the document to his attention but it was too late James had already started his sales pitch concerning his payment.

“$50 a day plus all expenses. If I give you a receipt, even if it is scratched on a table napkin, you pay it and…..$200 up front. And another $2000 if I solve the case.” He said in the rambling manic tone of a carnival barker. Greta shook her head, reached down into the leather folding briefcase and produced an envelope thick with crisp one hundred dollar bills, from which she produced three instead of two and slapped them down on his desk unsanctimoniously.

"Mr. Kain left instructions concerning your payment, he knew that monetary compensation would be your driving force. I can assure you that $2000 is far less than what he was willing to award you upon the resolution of your investigation. I'm under orders to pay you $5000 regardless of your findings, however, if you are able to actually solve his .....MURDER. I will be awarding you the sum of $15,000. I personally disagree with this method as I believe it creates a bias in the investigation, but alas this isn't my decision nor is it my money. " She finished, replacing the thick envelope back into her bag.

When her gaze returned to Jame's he was staring at her with a glassy stare, almost as if he was looking through her, most likely a reaction to seeing the large some of money, but she had her doubts as he seemed taken in deep thought, if only briefly. "Mr. MacIllany? James Rose Macillany? Hello?" She asked swiping her hand in front of face to see if she could fetch his attention again.

His attention snapped back to reality and again he started with his demands. “I want to interview, the wife, I want to interview the son, I want to interview the daughter and finally, I want to interview you. All of these are to be done at the Kain Estate this weekend. And ‘yes’, I know where he lives. Get me a bedroom. Oh, and find me that book. That is if you can.”

"I can assure you that Mrs. Kain won't be letting anyone stay in the estate proper. I may be able to arrange the interviews, however I don't imagine any of the family will be terribly cooperative, but that is your concern, not mine. As for accommodations near the estate, I live in the guest house in the back of the estate, it was a perk gifted to me as Mr. Kain's personal assistant, he wanted me close in order to properly do my job. The guest house is quite spacious , with several rooms. Especially now that Mrs. Kain has informed me that my services will no longer be needed after I conclude my duties and I will be asked to leave. I've begun packing up my things and freed up some space in the apartment. You could take one of the spare rooms, I can assure you though, I have no booze in my house, so you'll have to bring your own." She stood, gathering her things, with the exception of the files she produced, which she left on his desk.

Greta stood from the office chair and started for the door as James was looking to show her out, his urgency let her know it must be time for his evening libations. Booze hounds could be quite motivated when the bottle started to call their names. "As for the book, the police took it upon their investigation. I protested, saying that if Mr. Kain's death was 'natural' then they had no reason to collect evidence, but they shut my argument right down. An extremely dismissive detective by the name of Harold Hines had possession of it the last time I saw it." She concluded, stepping back out the door and waving to the taxi that sat idling near the curb where she'd left it.

She paused one final time and turned back toward James. "I will leave my front door unlocked until 10pm but no longer, please don't be too late or you'll have to find your own accommodations elsewhere." She turned and entered the cab.

 

[Kassyghost]

Although Greta hadn't tipped her cabby he didn't hesitate on getting her home either, maybe the idea of dropping the young woman off at the illustrious Kain estate probably got him thinking a hefty tip might still be coming, but he would be sorely disappointed again as she just paid the exact fair and thanked him for the ride. Mr. Kain might have been wealthy but Greta certainly wasn't and the severance package Mr. Kain had willed her wouldn't last forever, although it was generous for an employee. It didn't surprise her though, in the few short years she worked for him she'd become as close to his 'right hand' as he allowed any person to become since maybe his service in either of the two great wars.

She was barely able to fetch her leather briefcase from the backseat and Cab bolted away from the curb, squealing the tires on the pavement and the still open rear door flapping and then slamming closed as he left. "How rude..." She scoffed, assuming it was her frugal tipping practices that had garnered such an explosive reaction but as she turned and viewed the automobiles currently parked in the main house's parking area she saw the true reason. Parked behind the Kain's Rolls-Royce Phantom family sedan was one of the most notorious vehicles in all of LA. The silver Jaguar xk120 Had been seen at every late night club in Hollywood and everyone knew exactly who it belonged to, Anthony "the Torturer" Balistreri. The heavy handed, high ranking mafia hitman was known for being both quick tempered and extremely brutal in his work, the police feared him an the rival criminal organizations wanted him dead. Greta didn't go out to the clubs nor did she frequent places where nefarious gangsters usually hung out, but she'd seen both this car and the man himself on several occasions.

It had started shortly after she'd moved into the rear apartment of the Kain Estate, Mr. Kain was usually always at the office early and Greta would leave for the office around 7:30am. Leaving the grounds via the front gate she would see that car, of course she thought little of it at the time as she'd just assumed it was another of the wealthy family's vehicles, maybe Mr. Kain's son, why else would it be there so early. But then one evening after leaving the office after a late night she was taking a bus back to her apartment and as the bus route traversed through the club district she saw the noteworthy English made car, except it wasn't the male heir in the right hand driver's seat. It was a man she'd seen in the front page of the papers, Tony the Torturer. What was more striking was the former actress sitting next to him, Mrs. Kain. This had bothered Greta quite badly, Mr. Kain seemed like a decent man and he didn't deserve to have his younger wife stepping out on him with some dangerous gangster. It took her several weeks to work up the nerve before finally bringing the information to Mr. Kain. She assumed that the business mogul would be furious and angrily blow up but the older man seemed complacent and almost uncaring about the alleged affair.

"Dear Greta, My wife is still far younger than me and has always loved the night life, if she can find a man closer to her age and willing to suffer the overstuffed crowds and drunken patrons of the Hollywood night life than she has my blessing. My time is better spent doing truly important things." He'd said on the fateful day. She had even protested, "But he's a ganster....a real killer..." She'd started to explain when he cut her off and ended the conversation. "Dear Innocent Greta, there are Gods and Monsters, Fated and Fools all around us all the time. If you want any control in this life you have to learn to transcend the fear of this frail mortal coil offers and enter the true understanding of the Golden Circle." And that was the end of that precarious and confusing conversation that day, of course now it seemed to make far more sense.

Greta didn't linger long, she made her way down the stone lined path, around the large in ground pool, to her apartment. Mrs. Kain was a widow now anyway and whomever she chose to spend her time with was none of Greta's business. She placed the key into the lock of her door but the small amount of pressure pushed the door open. 'Strange' she thought, she was fairly sure she'd locked the door behind her as she left, in fact she was almost sure. In her time living here she learned Mr. Kain's son was a bit of a peeping Tom; a lesson learned after a string of missing undergarments when she'd first moved in, and so she was always careful to lock up after herself. But she was in a hurry this morning and ever since Mr. Kain's unexpected death her mind had been a bit frazzled, it was possible that she simply forgot.

She slowly entered and peaked around the large living room, most of her things, with the exception of the larger furniture had been packed in boxes and stacked along the walls, but nothing seemed to be out of place. She breathed a sigh of relief and entered her dwelling, admonishing herself for forgetting to lock her door, a simple mistake is all. She set her briefcase down on the coffee table as well as her clutch and keys and made her way to the rear bedroom. There was her master bathroom connected to the room and she desperately wanted a shower and wanted to decompress after her day. Something about going to the seedier side of town and entering a building with a house of ill repute above it was more than her delicate sensibilities could handle for one day. Greta didn't expect Mr. MacIllany for atleast a few hours, the errands the man would have to run would take some time and so she decided to freshen up before he arrived.

Greta began to disrobe, pulling the hair pins and using a washcloth and cole creme to remove her makeup. She suddenly felt a cool breeze strike her naked back and a shiver ran up spine. She pulled the wash cloth down from her face and in the mirror she saw the curtains covering the french doors leading to the rear patio flowing in the wind. 'did I have coffee on the patio this morning and forget to close that too?' She wondered. She turned grabbed her bathrobe and set off to close the door. As she approached she heard a strange sound almost like someone spitting, then a sharp sting on her neck. 'Misquitos this late in the season?' She reached up to swatch the bug but felt something more substantial. She grabbed at it, scared it might be a hairy spider and gave a small scared squeal. She grabbed it and flung it to the floor almost too scared to look. Finally her eyes peered down and instead of a dead spider she saw a small metal dart with a red feather fletching. "what in God's name?" She gasp, but already her eyes were starting to blur and and her knees were getting weak. A silhouette appeared behind the patio curtians and fear shot up through her form, she turned for the living room, thinking to go for the phone but her legs turned to jello and she fell on the hallway floor. "Hellbbb...." She slurred as her fingers felt the shag carpeting, trying to claw herself forward.

Greta's consciousness was fading quickly as she felt a hand on her shoulder flipping her over onto her back. She could barely make out the form of a white robe and hood covering her attackers face, then something like a chant. In her drugged state the strange words sounded like what she thought the strange language in the back of Mr. Kain's will would sound like. Then blackness came and her fear faded, she faded into unconsciousness.

When James arrived he'd let himself in, setting his things down he made a picture of drinks and was headed back toward the hallway which held the bedrooms when Greta suddenly appeared. She was no longer wearing the business appropriate outfit, nor was her hair up in the tight structure he'd first met her in, now she looked far more seductive. She was wearing her white silk night robe, undone and exposing a revealing white silk nightie that was low cut and showed off her impressive cleavage. White thigh high stockings covered the majority of her legs with the exception of a small swath of her naked upper thigh. Her hair was lose and hung around her shoulder, her bangs draped down over her one eye in a peak-a-boo style. There was something else too, gone was the strict discipline and business like attitude she purveyed earlier,, now she had bedroom eyes, half closed and dripping with sex appeal as she stared into Jame's eyes.

"Hello handsome, I hoped you wouldn't be too long." She said, slightly slurring her speech and her hand came up to the the lapel of his suit jacket. A singular finger ran down the line of his suit and she leaned in and planted a kiss onto Jame's lips.