Date: Wed, 14 Jun 2017 21:36:20 -0400
From: bldhrymn@aol.com
Subject: Catfish Takes a Hit 3

Catfish Takes a Hit  3
By Bald Hairy Man

This is a story about gay men and gay sex. If you do not like that, DO NOT
read it! You have been warned. It is intended for adults to read, and is
not for minors. It is a fantasy, not a sex manual.  I have made no effort
to portray safe sex practices. If you have any comments send them to
bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymn@aol.com


Templeton called me the next day. His accountants had uncovered two
potentially similar cases. The Peninsula Bank found three and the York &
James Bank had found four. These were smaller banks and did not have strong
controls on their Trust departments.

All the problem clients were elderly had a recent notable change in
spending habits. The banks knew who was cashing checks and that gave us
leads. My people began checking on these men and women. The banks looked
further into their clients' financial records.

When Sharron joined my geek squad she was the only woman. When she was
promoted, she insisted that she was the head Computer Guy, not Computer
girl. She was interested in the case. That was bad news for the
fraudsters. She was a terrier who smelled a rat. She traced the delivery
slip on the freezer.  Luckily there had been only one freezer delivered on
that day. The buyer used a credit card made out to BeautyTemps. That
company provided temporary hairdressers, manicurists and beauticians for
salons.  That was entirely unexpected and odd. BeautyTemps had an office
and wasn't just a mail drop and answering machine..

I thought I would send an operative to check out BeautyTemps.  I picked Liz
Cauthorn to try to get a job with them. Liz was an actor with special
skills doing Shakespearian women such as Lady Macbeth and Kate from the
Taming of the Shrew. It was no stretch for her to play difficult women.
She had paid her way through college working in a salon. She went off to
BeautyTemps clothed in an attitude and with suspect gaps in her resume.

I called Ralph and told him of the discovery. The police department's
computer people were busy, so we became their consultants. He sent me a
purchase order for professional services. It was for $500.00, so it barely
covered the cost of lunch, but this made us official in terms of future
court cases.

I also had a call from the president of the York & James Bank. He hired us
for a search and destroy attack on the con-men, and hoped we could recover
some of the money. He offered me a fee plus 25% of the recovered funds. I
said we would take the fee, but not the 25% take on recovered funds.  That
belonged to the victims, not the bank or us. Catfish & Company was in a
lull, and we could put operatives on the job to follow up on Sharron's
leads. Ralph had to do all the arresting, of course.

The renovation to my office was completed and I moved back into my upstairs
apartment. It had an elevator and grab bars everywhere. My contractor
friend, John, had done a good job.  We christened the elevator and had a
nice party.

My opportunity to do field work was limited, so I would be spending more
time at the office. John made an office in my apartment, so I didn't need
to disrupt the main office below. It was well run, and didn't need my input
for day to day work.

A few days later, Ralph came up to see me at the end of the work day.  I
gave him a beer and we talked. He had been stand offish at first, but as we
dug deeper into the case, he relaxed. He told me that he had been through a
rough patch, involving a bad divorce and a lack of promotion. If this case
turned out to be a big one, he might get back on track.

"I don't know how big it will be eventually, but you are the officer in
charge.  It should be an impressive feather in your hat," I said.

"I suspect you will get most of the credit," he said.

"I never take credit. It is best if no one knows Catfish & Company is
involved," I said.  "Publicity is bad for a private investigator."

"How do you get jobs?" Ralph asked.

"Word of mouth," I said.  He had another beer and then went to the
bathroom. It is a tropical paradise in glazed terra-cotta. He was dazzled.

"You like parrots?" he asked when he came back. I explained the place once
housed a ceramic tile contractor. A client had refused to use the tile he
ordered, so contractor installed it for his own use.

"I used to play football, so I am used to gang showers. I've never seen
anything like that," Ralph said. I told him that they had installed new
grab bars so that I could use it since I was short one foot. The bars were
helpful, but was a bit of a challenge.

"Three days a week I have a physical therapist who helps me shower," I
explained. "It is a lot more work when I am alone." We had another beer. He
said he would help me with my shower if I wanted.  I said sure.

Ralph was out of shape, but you could tell he had been a football
player. His soft cock had potential. "I'm not gay," he said from out of
nowhere.

"I may have had a trip to the wild side once or twice," I said. "Don't
worry, your virginity is safe with me!" I took my undershorts off. He
stared.

"They said it was big," he remarked. He helped me get into the shower and
to the grab bars and bench. "I'm not much of a catch anymore," he said.

"Is that why you are divorced?" I asked.

"That might be part of it, but the rest is because I am a jerk," he
said. "I was so caught up with my own problems, I ignored her." As he
talked his cock began to firm up. It wasn't exactly hard, but it wasn't
soft either. He saw that I noticed.

"I might have taken a few steps toward the wild side a long time ago," he
said.

"Naked with the rest of the team in the showers?" I asked. He nodded. He
soaped me up and I did the same to him. He was soon hard.

"I've got a little problem," he whispered.

I smiled. "It looks more like an opportunity to me."

"I'm not gay," Ralph said.

"Why don't you pretend you are gay for the next ten minutes, and let's see
what happens," I suggested. The ten minutes extended to a half hour. I
suspected he wasn't gay, but also guessed it had been a long time since he
had sex.  There were pent up needs. He also reciprocated. He had been on
the wrestling team too, he knew how to give and take.  He had a spectacular
orgasm, and the session was over.

"I'm so embarrassed," he said.

"Sex is sex. It's good regardless of the situation," I said.  He helped me
to my bedroom, dressed and left. I wondered if he would come back. He was
needy and I was willing to meet his needs.

The next morning Templeton called me with his accountants' further
discoveries. There were major changes in spending patterns in several
accounts. He was shocked to find that one account which had no activity for
five years, now had over 75 checks drawn on it in the last year. Some of
these checks were made out to cash. He had called the other banks
investigating the problem. They had found similar questionable
accounts. The account holders were all elderly clients, some of whom had
shown signs of mental impairment.  The banks were sending Trust officers to
contact these people to see if there were problems.

A little later in the day Liz reported back from her job interview. It had
gone well. Not one of the suspect items in her resume seemed to have raised
questions. The interviewer had asked if they could call her most recent
employer. She said that was okay, but they had a dispute over a check, that
might have soured the relationship.

With that information, any normal interviewer would automatically reject
Liz as an employee. Instead she was scheduled for another interview the
next day. We had set up an answering machine for the fake business Liz said
she worked for. BeautyTemps called the number and asked for someone to call
back.

Donnie Delmont, one of my long-time employees, called back on an anonymous
cell phone posing as the owner of the salon.  He said that Liz was a snake
in the grass, who both stole checks and gave his old-lady clients a
sob-story to get money from them. He told them he thought Liz was a con
artist.  Curiously, hat didn't bother BeautyTemps. Liz was hired.

I called Ralph and told him what was going on. He asked me if these scams
were just copy-cats, of if it was a franchise. I wasn't sure, but it looked
to me as if BeautyTemps might be at the center of the local operation. He
said he would investigate.

That night, Skippy called and asked if I would like some company. He was
with Colin.  They had been at a social event with Windsor University
officials. Colin was an alumnus and his family were big donors.

"You know Windsor is careful about protecting their income stream?" he
remarked.

"You mean juvenile delinquents from wealthy families?" I replied.

"That is one of their sources of income. The other source is immature kids
from wealthy families who need a place to grow up. I was talking to a
faculty member about our would-be rapist," Skippy said. "I mentioned my
suspicions about his drug use. I implied he might be a dealer. That caused
a stir. I used the name of the drug and had a reaction.  You know Windsor
University would never admit there were drugs on the campus."

"All their students are virgins too," Colin said. Skippy was on speaker
phone. "By the way, I was in the immature category of students."

"Well, I think I have shaken the branches. I wonder what will fall out of
the tree," Skippy added.

They knocked on my door fifteen minutes later.  I showed them around the
apartment. They were dazzled by the bath too. Of course, I knew this wasn't
a business visit.

Skippy soon got to the point. "Colin was inspired watching me fuck you last
week. He wants to give it a try but is uneasy about it. He wants someone to
be a referee," he explained.

I smiled. "Colin do you want a coach or a friend looking after your
interests?"

"I want all of the above," Colin replied. "I have an idea the Skippy has
only one interest, and he might get carried away."

"I told you I like to be the first in a virgin ass, but I like to be the
second, third or one hundredth one too," Skippy said in his defense. "I do
admit that I get enthusiastic a minute or two before I shoot off."

"Do I have to take the load?" Colin asked.

"No, I can pull out," Skippy said, "Most of the time I know what is
coming. Once and a while my orgasm makes a sneak attack, so I can't
guarantee anything."

The doorbell rang. It was Templeton. I let him in. The second he saw Skippy
and Colin he knew what was up. He was interested, but not as obviously as
Colin was interested in him. Templeton was a dapper, slim and elegant older
man. He knew Skippy and I guessed it was a non-platonic
relationship. Skippy wasn't your delicate type. He told Templeton his plans
and asked if he wanted to join in.  It was no surprise that Templeton was
game.

Ten minutes later we were all naked in my bedroom. Colin went straight to
Templeton. Templeton wasn't quite as big as I am, but he was a big
boy. Templeton was good-looking. Colin was sucking Templeton as I
lubricated his ass.

"Colin had a virgin ass and Skippy was planning to help him with that
problem." I said. "Do you mind helping out?"

"That isn't a problem for me," Templeton replied.

Skippy stepped up to the plate and replaced me at Colin's ass.  He took his
time with Colin. Colin and I moved to the 69-position as Skippy eased his
cock into him. I knew that diameter is more of a problem than length. Colin
shivered as Skippy's cock head touched his ass. He stayed hard and oozed
more precum as the thin tool pushed deeper.

Colin began sucking me with more enthusiasm. I was getting excited and I
assume I was oozing more. When Skippy popped through the sphincter his cock
rubbed Colin's prostate. I felt him react with more precum. Sometime the
third man in a threesome is left out. Tasting Colin's reaction to Skippy's
cock was good for me. Since his former lover had been so turned off by
precum, Colin enjoyed letting his sex juices flow.

"You're taking it well. Are you okay Colin?" he asked.

"It's fine," Colin replied. "It feels odd, but it's a nice odd."

"I hope it will be a lot better than odd as you get used to it," Skippy
said.

Templeton was behind me and his well-lubricated cock touched my hole. It
had been a long time since we had played together, so I shifted my leg to
give him better access. It also gave Colin a good view of Templeton
entering me. If precum is any indicator, he liked what he saw.

Templeton and Skippy weren't new to the scene. They quickly discovered how
to give maximum pleasure to both Colin and me. They rhythmically stroked to
produce both prostate stimulation and precum flow. Skippy held his cards
close to the chest as is typical of lawyers, but he lost it first. He
pulled out after the orgasm.

"I'm sorry I lost it," he said to Colin.

"It felt good." Colin said.

"Could you take more?" Templeton asked.

"I think I probably could, Colin replied. Templeton pulled out of me and
went to Colin's newly opened ass.

"You're big," Colin said, "Take your time."

Templeton was slow but steady. I pulled apart from Colin so he could
concentrate on Templeton's cock. I was surprised when Skippy took my place
in the 69-position. His ass was wide open and on view. I knew that wasn't
an accident. I hate to be an opportunist, but I was hard and he was open.

Let's just say the Colin loved watching my cock enter Skippy as Templeton's
organ entered him. I think it was a tight fit for both men, but worth the
effort. After a few dozen strokes, Colin and Skippy traded loads as
Templeton and I rear loaded them.

Sometimes there is a letdown after an orgasm. There is nothing as intense
to follow. You are drained and tired. While we were all drained, there was
a mellow, calm feeling. There must have been buckets of sperm, but it was
redistributed, not wasted. Each one of us was sexually satisfied. I had a
good time licking up the post-orgasmic drool of my playmates. Colin looked
happy, but Skippy was both surprised and managed a late
ejaculation. Colin's repertoire of sexual skills had just increased by
100%. I had reconnected with my old friend Templeton and made new friends,
Skippy and Colin. We talked a while, showered and they went home.

Cyber investigations follow the same rules as a traditional investigation,
but they are faster. What once took days or weeks could be done in
hours. That was especially true since we had the police cyber people, the
banks' accountants and my own group working on the case. Each group had its
own favorite databases, and skills. My people were technically working for
the police, so the bank accountants felt comfortable coordinating with us.

Once there was a lead, all the cyber people were like bloodhounds on a
scent. They wouldn't give up the trail until they were satisfied. By the
end of the next day, we had identified seven elderly bank customers who
were definitely being scammed. They had been carefully selected. Most had a
half-million to a million in accounts. They were prosperous, but not so
wealthy to have accountants or financial managers in their employ. All were
women, alone and either single or widowed. None had close family, and no
one checking their health. A neighbor might think they were forgetful, but
wouldn't notice the advance of dementia.

All went to the hairdressers regularly. In many cases the salons were well
established, but the original proprietors had retired and were under new
management. I went to see Jane. She was in every woman's club in the area
and I assume she had the low down on hairdressers. Jane had a sensible and
stylish cut that was just right for her age and facial type. She told me
that Mrs. Vienner, tended to alternate between neglect and overdone. Her
prime had been in the bouffant era, and when she had a major event or a
club meeting, she went whole hog.

Mrs. Vienner went to Margo's Salon. Jane didn't think much of Margo's. It
was expensive, but tended to do rather flamboyant designs. Jane thought
they often looked like theatrical designs for a period play. She often used
the same hairdresser, Jolie.  I called my office and gave them Margo's
name.

By the time I got back to the office, Sharron gave that information to the
bank accountants and they discovered three of the women used Margo's and
one had a check made out to Jolie Holliday. The banks found out that the
other women used two hairdressers. Each hairdresser had two of the victims
as customers.

I had several women who worked for me on specific cases. They often served
as decoys when we were hunting muggers or rapists. They were not genteel or
shy types. I wasn't sure they would be able to play elderly society
types. Liz came to the rescue. She knew several actresses who could play
the type and who were perceptive, smart and unflappable. Thus, we created
what Liz called the Miss Marple Brigade.

Helen Broadus was a former actress and wardrobe mistress. Sally Jones and
Milly Winter had been cast as Grand Dames and had an air. Their job was to
be bait and see if anyone took a bite. Helen and Milly had dealt with
dementia and knew the symptoms. As a wardrobe mistress, Helen knew the look
we were after. She was after the almost, but not quite right look of a
fastidious woman who was no longer what she had been. She also wanted some
jewels. They had to be real, but in appropriate. Perhaps a bracelet that
would be fine at a charity banquet, but not for a hairdressing appointment.

I asked around, and Templeton came up with the goods. The wife of the Bank
president heard her husband talking about it and volunteered her
jewelry. Her mother was in a home with serious dementia. Helen met her and
found what she needed, both the jewelry and the clothes. The Marple Brigade
went into action, not quite perfectly attired and bejeweled. I thought
keeping in character for an hour and a half would be a problem. Milly told
me she had done three hours in performance for six nights and two matinees
every week. The salon would be no problem at all.

I called Ralph and gave him an update. I also mentioned a possible drug
connection with our rapist. That interested him and he said he would talk
with the drug squad.

For comic relief, I found out our would-be rapist was suing me for
assault. He essentially claimed I interrupted the rape with unnecessary
violence.  I called Skipwith who almost dropped the phone he was laughing
so hard. He told me to send him a retainer of $100.00 so he could add me as
a client. He worked for a large corporate law firm, and this case would be
endlessly amusing.

I had a quiet night at home. It was quiet until two in the morning, when
someone tried to break into my apartment. It was a pathetic attempt and
didn't come close to entering the building, but the security cameras
produced good pictures of the burglars.  Ralph came by the next
morning. His visit to the drug squad had been a success. He recognized the
two men from my door camera as fraternity brothers of the rapist.

This was getting interesting. It didn't make any sense. It seemed to me
that perhaps more was going in than a rape as part of a fraternity
prank. Ralph thought the same way. Intimidating a witness was a
possibility, but there were 20-30 people from the restaurant who could
identify the culprits. Multiple cell phones captured him with his pants
down.

Ralph increased police presence on my street. My staff took the attempt to
get in my office badly. They took a personal interest and provided some
street people and drunks to patrol the area. The district was quite
prosperous now, but kids from the suburbs still saw it as a dangerous place
in habited by undesirables. I thought all of this was over-the-top. Only an
idiot would make a second attempt. I seriously underestimated the number of
idiots involved.

Stakeouts are long, boring and often unsuccessful.  At one o'clock, our
perpetrators appeared and made a second attempt on my apartment. This time
one of them tried to cut the electric line to the building, to disable the
alarm. Of course, the system had a battery backup. He tried to climb the
pole, and fortunately failed. He had an uninsulated wire cutter and would
have died had he been successful.

The other two men were at my door when twelve City Policemen arrived. The
perpetrators were stoned and barely responsive. My people watched from the
sidelines. They noticed a SUV hightailing from the area when the police
arrived.  My men had a complete description of the car and a license
plate. The car belonged to our rape suspect.

Ralph was happy. His fraud investigation had just turned into a major drug
trafficking investigation. The Police Chief had been complaining about turf
wars in the department. The Drug squad was possessive of its cases, and
wanted all the credit. Ralph had shared information that was a potential
breakthrough. He had become a star in the Chief's eyes.