With his thinning hair, past forty paunch, and average Joe looks Harold Slick was a lady killer. What? Sure. Cause he had what some women find irresistible: a smooth line of BS.
Det. Ray Barnett was in the room next door to Slick, at the Golfing Buccaneer Hotel, then on Mooringline Drive and US 41. Ray was working a stakeout that had fizzled out. He was about to call it a night when he noticed an attractive lady enter Slick's room. That caused him to recall that he'd seen several ladies enter that room. His cop's intuition got his mind to working.
Maybe the guy he'd seen in there was a male prostitute. Or the women were ho's. But who could handle that much exercise? Maybe he was running hookers, for other guests, Whatever it was, Ray decided he was going to find out.
Grabbing a recorder, with a sensitive pinhole mike, from his car, Ray returned to his room and fired it up. The walls were thin, so he could hear what was going on next door. And what he heard blew his mind. When he finally had it all sorted out, this was the caper.
Slick, who'd been holed up at the Buccaneer for two weeks, camped out in the bar looking for worthy marks. Finding one, all single ladies, he'd buy her a few drinks then go into his spiel:
I work for a very wealthy man. He loves to go to exotic places and enjoys the company of an attractive companion. They travel all over the world at no cost on his yacht, plus he gives them a handsome allowance. My boss is also the friend of many famous people who sometimes travel with him. Movies stars, you name it. I wonder if you might be interested?
That would scare some off. Other's would ask more questions, then leave. But, a surprising number stayed. Slick would continue, I have the applications in my room. What's say we fill one out.
If this didn't drive them away, they'd go to his room where he'd close the deal.
I'm sure you realize, he'd say, my boss would require sexual favors. Nothing kinky, but he is vigorous. And he trusts my judgment to audition, so to speak, candidates. So. . .
Unbelievably, that was it. Short, simple, sweet. Even more astounding, was the number that agreed to the audition. Within minutes, the sound of squeaking bed springs could be heard.
Before we could figure out how to handle him, Slick was gone like a cool breeze. We were left with the tape that some cops wore out trying to memorize his lines. Remembering the number of times he'd audition a night, some of us just wondered what Slick had been eating.
Det. Ray Barnett was in the room next door to Slick, at the Golfing Buccaneer Hotel, then on Mooringline Drive and US 41. Ray was working a stakeout that had fizzled out. He was about to call it a night when he noticed an attractive lady enter Slick's room. That caused him to recall that he'd seen several ladies enter that room. His cop's intuition got his mind to working.
Maybe the guy he'd seen in there was a male prostitute. Or the women were ho's. But who could handle that much exercise? Maybe he was running hookers, for other guests, Whatever it was, Ray decided he was going to find out.
Grabbing a recorder, with a sensitive pinhole mike, from his car, Ray returned to his room and fired it up. The walls were thin, so he could hear what was going on next door. And what he heard blew his mind. When he finally had it all sorted out, this was the caper.
Slick, who'd been holed up at the Buccaneer for two weeks, camped out in the bar looking for worthy marks. Finding one, all single ladies, he'd buy her a few drinks then go into his spiel:
I work for a very wealthy man. He loves to go to exotic places and enjoys the company of an attractive companion. They travel all over the world at no cost on his yacht, plus he gives them a handsome allowance. My boss is also the friend of many famous people who sometimes travel with him. Movies stars, you name it. I wonder if you might be interested?
That would scare some off. Other's would ask more questions, then leave. But, a surprising number stayed. Slick would continue, I have the applications in my room. What's say we fill one out.
If this didn't drive them away, they'd go to his room where he'd close the deal.
I'm sure you realize, he'd say, my boss would require sexual favors. Nothing kinky, but he is vigorous. And he trusts my judgment to audition, so to speak, candidates. So. . .
Unbelievably, that was it. Short, simple, sweet. Even more astounding, was the number that agreed to the audition. Within minutes, the sound of squeaking bed springs could be heard.
Before we could figure out how to handle him, Slick was gone like a cool breeze. We were left with the tape that some cops wore out trying to memorize his lines. Remembering the number of times he'd audition a night, some of us just wondered what Slick had been eating.
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