A Tough Night
By NFalc
Part Four
From the moment Grace laid eyes on her, she could tell that Elizabeth Dodgson was a glamorous woman, the kind used to getting what she wanted - no matter what she had to do in order to accomplish it. She was blonde, roughly 45 although certainly not showing it, and from the width of her eyes she was about to have a heart attack.
"Who the hell are you?" she growls.
Grace responds by clasping Ritchie to her chest with one hand, sticking the other hand out and pushing right past Marilyn like a football player. Marilyn falls back against the doorjamb, shocked by this sudden onslaught, giving Grace just enough time to brush past her and out into the hallway, running as fast as she can in high heels on carpet.
As she runs, Grace carefully wraps her fingers around Ritchie and lifts him to her ear. "Where does she keep the diary?" she asks.
"When I saw her writing in it, it was in her study, on the first floor," Ritchie says hurriedly. "We have to move quickly, if she catches you she'll kill you."
"What do you think I'm doing?" Grace asks, feet flying down a set of extravagantly polished wooden stairs, trying not to trip. She rounds the corner onto the first floor, and finds herself in a long hallway. "Which door?" she asks.
"Last one on the left," Ritchie shouts. "I think..."
Grace bursts through the last door on the left, only to find herself surrounded by hundreds of vials filled with clear purple liquid. "The shrinking solution," she gasps. "She must have enough to shrink all of Los Angeles..."
"Leave this as evidence for the cops," Ritchie says. "We've gotta find the diary. Try the door opposite this." Grace nods, and runs to the next room. "There it is! The desk, open it!"
She opens the desk drawer, and snatches a leather-bound book inside. "Got it. Now lets get out of here." She dashes back to where she thinks the lobby will be, then stops short.
Directly in front of the exit stands Elizabeth. "You're not going anywhere," she says. In her hand is a vial of purple liquid.
***
I'm running after the ladies as fast as my stubby legs can carry me, but they manage to outrace me anyway. They've got legs like skyscrapers though, so I suppose I can't beat myself up too bad about it. And hey, being so short makes it pretty easy to keep out of sight, so I'm not a target for the ten cop cars that pull up, lights flashing and sirens blaring.
At least twenty cops get out, and without breaking a sweat the ladies unload on 'em, gats banging like firecrackers. They aren't actually aiming at the coppers, just their cars - trying to scare the boys in blue so they can make a clean getaway. And it seems to be working. I stick with them as close as I can as they hustle to their car.
It's an old soft-top with a leaky oil tank and rust obscuring the paint, but it looks like it'll get us all far away from there, even if the two ladies don't know about their third passenger. Marilyn opens the driver door and I jump up and pull myself in right before she closes it. She slips off her high heels in order to drive, leaving her feet covered by her silk stockings.
"Drive!" yells Trenchcoat as she hops in the passenger seat, and I narrowly avoid being squashed under Marilyn's huge foot as she shoves it onto the pedal, flooring the car. We take off like a cat running from a blowtorch, the cops piling into their cars behind us.
Just seconds after we're rolling, it hits me like a punch in the gut. Shrinking again. And this time more than usual. When I look up, it seems like I'm in a huge cavern, with two huge legs coming down from God knows where. I duck under Marilyn's left foot, which is on the pedal, and dash over to one of her high heels, trying to avoid falling over due to the car's motion.
I'm about as tall as the spike on the high heel, which by comparison looks like two inches. Ladies, meet Max Salem, bug-sized private investigator. When Grace hears about this, it'll crack her up.
I have to get the girls' attention somehow, or I risk getting trapped in their car. If that happens, either they find me, the cops do, or I starve to death, so it's best to get it over with now.
Running around the moving car feels like standing on a tugboat in the middle of a hurricane, but I've got to get over to Trenchcoat and get her attention. Lucky for me (hell, I've been real lucky so far tonight, right?), she's slipped off her shoes also, and I'm able to tap on her foot. For a second, I think the big doll's gonna squash me flat, but she looks down, notices me, and slips me a big five round my whole body.
"What's that you got your paws on, Jessie?" Marilyn asks, keeping her peepers on the road.
The babe gives me a thorough lookover. "Well, look who we got here? It's Max Salem, gumshoe extraordinaire. He almost ended up as gum on the bottom of my shoe!"
"Pleased to meetcha," I say. "Now, do you mind explaining what the hell's goin' on? Cuz I think I'm missing somethin', if not everything. F'r instance, who's your husband here?"
Marilyn glances at me, a big grin on her sweet puss. "Max, you really should do background checks more often. I'm single. Jessica's my lover."
"Ah," I say, finally putting the pieces together. Two broads in forbidden love. Her mother probably didn't approve, so the two didn't get hitched. I bet the trenchcoat was so they could be seen together without getting dirty looks. "But I still don't see how the shrinker cults fit in the picture. Or me, for that matter."
"Well, me and Marilyn are wacky about each other," Jessica says. "And we're not too keen on guys at full size. But it's nice to have a man involved too - especially when he's so cute and little."
"So you two got involved with buying from the shrinker cults - that's how you know Loretta."
"Close, but not quite," Marilyn cuts in. "That's why we used Loretta to get our hands on shrinking solution."
"A hundred gallons of it," Jessica smirks.
"And that's what made the Ruskies mad," I finish. "But how do I fit into all of this?"
"You don't," says Marilyn abruptly.
"You've been had," Jessica adds, still showing all her pearly whites.
"We just were looking for a new little guy - all our old ones kept getting lost. And we don't like the ones Loretta supplies - there's no fun in them unless they're fresh and surprised. You looked like an easy lure. All we had to do was offer you some dough, and then we could fool you into anything."
"Of course, you wound up being a little trickier to get than we thought. Still, all's well that ends well, right?"
"It hasn't all ended well yet, babe," Marilyn says, looking over her shoulder. "The coppers are right on our tails!"
Jessica drops me in her lap and gets out one of those Chicago Typewriters, turning in her seat and propping it against the back of the car. Marilyn revs the engine as Jess starts throwing lead at the sirens behind us...
***
Rebecca Laughton had been feeling pretty proud of herself. All three of the major players in the shrinker cults cooped up in a house on the docks, surrounded by squad cars. It looked like she'd finally nailed the big one, the case that would make her a star.
Then those two Dodgson girls had popped out with Thompsons, drilled holes in all the cars and took off.
Now, driving furiously in her own Cadillac, she heard them shooting at the cop cars in the distance. This was getting too messy. If she got unlucky, a cop or two would die.
But she was still going to nab those two. She knew right where they were headed, back to the Dodgson estate. Those two thought they were only being chased by the police. Little did they know the FBI was also on to them, just on a different route...
***
Grace takes a deep breath. She knows she's cornered. There's got to be a way to think herself out of this.
"You've got my journal, huh?" Elizabeth Dodgson says. "So many secrets in there you could blab to others. You'd be famous, and I'd be in jail. All the little men would go free. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Too bad I've got this little vial right here. This baby is full of the most concentrated shrinking solution around."
Grace gulps, and searches her brain for anything that can get her out of this. Rush Elizabeth and try to tackle her? No, then the woman could spill the solution all over her. Talk her way out? Grace was too much of a liability for Elizabeth to let go. There was no window to jump out, no exit except the one Elizabeth blocked.
"Tell you what," Elizabeth says, "That journal has... sentimental value. Give it to me and I'll let you live after I shrink you, instead of squashing you like the little pest you are. Maybe you could be my personal pet."
She takes another step forward...
***
Jessica sprays bullets one more time, then calls out, "That's the last one."
I wipe the sweat off my brow and focus on holding onto the trenchcoat. One slip from this height and I'd wind up floor putty. And the two dames are so dizzy for each other that they probably wouldn't even notice I was gone.
The soft-top pulls into a garage that would be gigantic even if I wasn't a pipsqueak. "Let's go!" Marilyn shouts. "We've got to get inside before they see us and the car!"
Without warning, I'm being swept up in Jessica's mits again, as she leaps out of the car. We burst through the door and into a mansion.
Marilyn turns back to Jessica, and then gets real close and spreads her arms to give her lover a big bear hug. I find myself getting intimate with the doll's neckline as they embrace. And for the first time tonight, I feel my luck's changing.
Of course, that all changes when we hear a scream from upstairs...
***
"You want the journal?" Grace asks. "Take it!"
She flings the leather-bound book with all her might. It crashes into Elizabeth's outstretched arms, tipping the vial, which promptly spills purple liquid all over her fancy, sequined dress. The rich woman lets out a horrifying scream as she begins to diminish in size. She runs towards the door, only to have it burst open right in front of her.
Standing in the doorway are a blonde and a brunette, both stunningly beautiful. Grace quickly recognizes the blonde as Marilyn. In the brunette's hand is something that looks at first like a very lifelike doll. It's only when it waves that Grace realizes it's Max.
"Mother?" Marilyn calls down to the rapidly shrinking woman.
Elizabeth lets out a shrill squeak and turns in the other direction, only to find herself face to face with Grace's office pumps. She's completely surrounded.
***
For a few seconds, no one speaks or moves. The door closes behind the two women. Then Jessica crouches down and places Max gently on the floor. Her hand darts out and wraps around Elizabeth, squeezing her tight. She lifts the squirming woman up to her face.
"Hello, Mrs. Dodgson. Remember me?"
Mrs. Dodgson only screams in reply.
Jessica goes on as if she hasn't heard her. "I'm your daughter's lover. The one you looked down on as a freak. The one you tried to keep your daughter away from. The one you banished from your home."
"No no no," Elizabeth mewls.
As Jessica leers at the tiny woman, other small things begin stirring on the floor. Tiny men coming out of cracks in the walls and floorboards, looking on in amazement.
"All the men we once had... You stole them from us!" Marilyn gasps.
"All these things you've done to us, and to others... You don't deserve to own all this. You deserve to be powerless."
Grace, thinking quickly, flips open the journal as Jessica talks to Elizabeth. She lets out a small cry as she reads.
"What?" Marilyn asks.
"'September 14, 1922'," Grace reads aloud, "'Today I gave that fat old bastard just what he deserved. A full vial of concentrated potion, stirred into his evening tea. He looked even more pathetic at one inch tall. I told him just what I thought of him. Then I had an evening snack of my own. I didn't even chew when he went squirming down my throat. I swear I could hear his screams as he went down.'"
"September fourteenth... that's the night my father disappeared..." Marilyn says, astonished.
There's a stunned silence.
"You killed Daddy?" Marilyn demands angrily.
"Honey," Jessica says to her lover, "Have you ever heard of the Code of Hammurabi? 'An eye for an eye'..."
"No! I'm your mother, Mari, don't let her! Don't let them do this to me!" The tiny woman cries out.
Marilyn looks completely unemotional. "Goodbye, Mother."
And with that, Jessica lifts the shrunken heiress and tosses her into her mouth. She closes it but does not chew. She swallows hard and forces the one-inch-tall woman down her throat.
Just then, the door bursts open once more.
"Nobody move!" shouts a woman in office attire. "I am an officer of the law!"
"Rebecca?" Max calls up, puzzled.
"You escaped? I'll deal with you later. For now, all of you put your hands behind your head."
"You don't understand, let me explain..." Marilyn says.
"I heard everything," Rebecca says, "I know exactly what's going on. And I know that you're under arrest for possession of ..." She looks around the room. "At least one hundred gallons of illegal substances. And your girlfriend is now wanted for murder."
"Wait!" Max yells, as loud as he can. "Hear me out!"
Rebecca looks down at him imperiously, and pauses to think. Then, against her better judgment, she picks up the shrunken private eye.
"I understand that you want to make a big arrest. I used to be a fed too. And I know what it's like for dolls in the Bureau. You get all the shit jobs, and none of the respect the guys do. You just want to make one big arrest, so that they'll finally treat you like you deserve. So that they see you as an equal."
Grace sees that Rebecca's lip is quivering. She bites down on it and nods.
"What you don't understand is, you are equal. You're more than equal. You're the only one who managed to get to the bottom of this whole mess. And in my eyes, you're already quite the powerful woman."
At this, the agent smiles. "You're all talk."
"I swear, I'm telling nothing but the whole truth. You're beautiful, gal, and you've got lots of spunk, and even more brains. But look into your heart. You know that arresting these girls isn't the right thing to do."
Rebecca closes her eyes briefly, and sighs. "You're right. That rich bitch deserved to die. But I have to arrest somebody for this mess. Do you know how many cop cars have been shot?"
"We're forgetting somebody, I just know it," Max says.
"Loretta!" Jessica cries. "She's still tied up back down at the docks."
"And Katya Ivanovich's corpse is lying next to her." Marilyn adds.
"Do you have the murder weapon?" Rebecca asks.
"It's in the car. We used gloves when we were holding it, so there are no prints."
"Ladies, I think we have ourselves a patsy," Rebecca says, sounding like she can't believe what she's saying. "But I will have to take all of those vials of shrinking potion as evidence. And the FBI will also want to have some of the shrunken men as witnesses."
"Will you guys testify on our behalf?" Marilyn calls down to the little men around them. They nod, and she smiles.
"One more thing," Rebecca adds. "I'm doing you a huge favor for all of this, and I need something in return."
"You want money? A car? Name your price," Marilyn says.
Rebecca smiles tightly. "I want the men the FBI doesn't take. Somebody has to take charge of them. And... And I like feeling powerful. I like being around admirers."
Marilyn frowns, but Jessica speaks up. "You've got a deal. But you have to let us keep a few. Some of them are very dear to us."
"Like?"
"The one you have in your hands," Marilyn says. "He just saved our skins. Plus, he's so cute!"
There's a yelp from Grace's direction, and a small man appears in her hands. "I want to stay with Grace!" He says. "That is, if she'll have me."
Grace smiles down at Ritchie. "Of course I will, little guy."
Rebecca slowly lowers Max to the floor, so that he's looking up at her. "You've got yourselves some very special men, ladies," she says. "I'll be back for the potion and the men in two days."
***
Three Months Later
***
Loretta wound up getting fifteen years in the slammer after a very speedy trial. The papers were all over the case, and it wound up getting lots of publicity. Unfortunately, this created even more demand for shrinking potion, which caused several new "shrinker cults" to spring up. Rebecca, who's now head honcho of her branch at the Bureau, has got her hands full with the issue. Her hands are full of paperwork at her job, and when she gets home, they're full of her new friends, admirers and lovers, each of whom can easily fit in her pocket.
She still comes 'round every so often, and she and the Dodgsons have become very good friends. They even give her a little dough so she can keep the little guys and herself in clover.
Another frequent visitor to the Dodgson Estate is my former secretary, Grace. She and her fella Ritchie are pretty well off too, now that Grace has her own peeper agency, which I'm ashamed to say makes my own look like a trip for biscuits. She and her guy are totally dizzy for each other, but sometimes Grace comes over and joins in our games here at the mansion as well.
And what kind of games do we play? Well, let's just say that we've pitched woo and made whoopee in just about every way possible with three people, and done it almost every way you can with four. I'm actually eating better off the gals' table scraps than I could when I was feeding myself. Hey, I'm sharing a four-post bed with two hot mamas, and we're all gaga over each other. Life could be worse.
So that's my new job. Private house dick, the flatfoot who can be flattened underfoot. My name's Max Salem, and if you've ever got a very small problem, give me a call.
Giantess World
