Detective Case had always loved the smell of the stuffed paper cigarettes he made. - Even before he had started smoking (which he had done when he was 12, taking a cigarette out his father's belongings) he loved the smell of it, sitting among the men as they chatted about the war and other things he was too young to understand at the time, as they lighted cigarette after cigarette and drank beer after beer, to him they were the smell of manliness and attitude. To Detective Case a man was a man when he had a beautiful woman in his arms (preferably one that hadn't been picked off the streets and which came at a cost), a pack of cigarettes in his coat, and a cold, national, beer in his hands. He pondered about it as he sat down waiting for the scheduled person to arrive at the scene. Idling twiddling with the butt of the cigarette he had finished moments prior, moving and rolling it between his fingers.
He had received a mysterious call. Someone was looking for help and the man on the phone, for it was a male voice that spoke with him without a doubt, was willing to pay handsomely. Detective Case smiled at that. He loved the smell and feel of the greenies in his hands, and whenever a case appeared he was quick to take it.
To be totally honest Detective Case would have accepted the job, whatever the amount of money he was being offered, after all, he hadn't had a case in months, and for a detective literally named Case, that was a bad sign, but the offer to pay extra had attracted his attention. So now he sat down in a bar, looking at the dark silhouettes of people in the ill lit room and wondering who exactly his contact was and what they wanted him to do - Since the details had been sparse, the voice insisting they did not talk while on the phone, and talk through his "contacts".
Detective case looked at the full screen television that showed one the two channels it had...a game of soccer was being played on and the team in blue was defeating the team in green by a monumental 7 to 1. He took interest in this, since his team, the greens, hadn't had any luck with matches that year. He groaned as one of his players lost the ball to the blue's.
"Fuck" - he said to himself, but no one heard him since, like any other typical Portuguese bar, when football was on the plate, the yelling and shouting between the rival team's fans was extreme, so really, though the room was ill lit, the noise was muffled at all, and the sillhoutes moved their arms upwards and smashed them against their tables when the opposite team from the silhouette got the ball.
He was so enthralled on the match that he didn't notice the person who slip next to him. Until she touched his shoulder. Detective Case grabbed a hold of his chest and almost said a "Jesus Christ", startled as he was.
"Detective Case I presume" – The sultry, feminine voice said. And Detective case. Private investigator took his time examining the figure. The lady was tall and thin, even taller than him, with his relatively plump build (which he called muscle and not fat, a total lie), she appeared to be in her 20's and had her hair loose, coming down in flocks. She smelled like jasmine, and he had certainly enjoyed her voice. He let his gaze descend from the green eyes to some more...interesting parts of her build...they were luscious, and round and he'd imagined them to be soft...even further down he could see that her dress (which had a very generous neckline) had an even more generous cut in the legs...directly in her thigh, only a couple of centimetres below the most private of her spots. He noticed that her legs seemed to go on forever, and they reminded him of the legs of Fred Astaire, legendary dancer. They were fit but not muscled. Her whole body was one of a goddess.
Needless to say Case was excited to be working with such a knockout girl, he decided he would noticed by the woman that the angels had shaped, Case stared right back at her. She smiled and he was sure she knew the effect she had had on him.
But Detective Case was a true manly man and a true manly man isn't taken aback by a woman's beauty. He was sure he had to take the reins back of the situation. He picked up the conversation by replying back to her presumption.
"Exactly, and you are?" – He stared back at the woman with the pleasant shapes, carefully making sure not to ogle at the breasts of the woman.
"Daniela. I'm the Mr's Assistant." – She smiled and Case noticed he had dropped the butt of the cigarette while he had stared at the young lady. Instead of picking it up he looked at her and answered. Someone was sure to pick the cigarette butt when cleaning, eventually.
They continued their conversation despite the shouts, the greens had scored a goal reducing their disadvantages to "only" 5 goals. And people were protesting because the ball appeared to not have been entered totally in the goalpost.
"The Mr heard about your eighteen at the P.I school, the highest grade, it certainly was impressive."
Ah that...in actuality Case had only had a twelve, but he had edited the documentation and bragged about his fake grades in his commercial spot in the local newspapers.
So maybe Case was a little over his league, and it was too much for him to handle. But Mr Case was a proud man, he wasn't about to admit his failure. He would do it. Even if it took him months (and hey, he was paid by the hour, it would take him months either way).
Detective Case looked back at the young woman who had the most pleasurable of views and he faked a smile.
"Yeah, well it was easy for a...man of my talents, and renown." – What was he doing? - He asked himself, he was putting himself into more trouble! He wasn't talented at all, he had barely passed.
"I certainly hope so...this case here...well, the Mr suspects one of his employees is planning on stealing his possessions...you know how it goes. You've surely studied the classics, Sherlock Holmes, Agatha Christie..."
"Heh, sure..." – In actuality Case didn't know who this "Agatha" was, he wasn't much of a reader, other than the instructions on how to do dry noodles (take out the box, put in microwave, wait, eat) and the occasional sports magazine, but he already had an idea on who the culprit was. He avoided a roll of the eyes. Though he wasn't the one to read he had seen plenty of detectives shows and even went to a school for P.I's. – it was what had made him want to go and be a detective, after all. – and one thing was certain, it was always the same person who did it.
But if he wanted the greens, he couldn't reveal it yet. He shock Daniela's hands, noticing the polish on her nails, which hadn't been messed up yet, and he got up, taking out another cigar and lighting it.
He had his suspicions on the butler, because, after all, wasn't it always the butler? But he couldn't rely on stereotypes. He took a piff out his cigarrete, releasing the smoke into the cold air, along with his breath. He was going to need to investigate all of the emplooyes up close...specially if they were as exciting to him as Miss Daniela was.
To be continued
