"Murder Is But A Memory" drabbles by Christopher

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Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 170

Murder Is But A Memory

"Dammit, Lanny!" Stane exclaimed. "The money was taken by mistake. I'm trying to get it back. This is simply a misunderstanding. I'm not trying to cheat you, believe me!"

Lanyard laughed as eloquently as he spoke. "No one absconds with a quarter of a million dollars by mistake, Victor."

He looked at his watch, "I told you that you had until 5 PM today to produce my money. It is now precisely 5 PM."

He raised his .45 and pointed it at Vic's head. I couldn't let him murder Vic in cold blood, no matter how bad the S.O.B. was...

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Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 169

Murder Is But A Memory

"Yes, Mr. Randolph, Vic here is a very bad boy. He's being investigated by the city of Las Vegas, the state of Nevada, as well the FBI for a veritable cornucopia of criminal activity: money laundering, racketeering, grifting, bribery, fencing, prostitution, extortion, coercion, and a little matter of several unsolved murders in and around the Las Vegas area."

Stane seemed agitated, "Lanyard, I highly doubt you'd ever be mistaken for Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm either!"

Lanyard smiled, "Indeed not. I kill people for money. Or... kill the people that hired me when I don't get full restitution for services performed."

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Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 168

Murder Is But A Memory

Lanyard grinned, "Am I to assume you hired him to locate the so-called missing money?"

I looked dead at Lanyard, "I wouldn't work for trash like Vic Stane."

Lanyard's eyes widened at my brazenness. I didn't care. I may have been going to that great detective agency in the sky soon, but I was going to have my say.

"I've got my standards, Mr. Lanyard. I live by a code, which is something I doubt Vic," I paused to look right at Lanyard, "or you could ever understand."

Lanyard didn't look the slightest bit offended, which was kinda scary...

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Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 167

Murder Is But A Memory

"I don't believe I know you, sir," the man said, looking at me. He was awfully well mannered and well-spoken for a guy that had just put a bullet in some poor schmuck's chest.

"I'm Jake Randolph," I said.

He looked puzzled, "I'm afraid that doesn't help, sir."

Vic spoke up, "He's a private dick, Lanyard."

Paul Lanyard. The hit man Vic hired to kill his second-in-command-turned-stoolie Frank DiNuccio. The man he owed the 250 grand that he didn't have, and who was going to kill him at 5 PM if he couldn't produce it.

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Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 166

Murder Is But A Memory

The man slowly stepped out of the shadows. He was tall, over 6 feet. His suit was such a dark shade of blue it almost looked black; his shirt was a light powder blue shade with a dark blue tie. He had a navy velvet homburg cocked on his head, with small tufts of sandy brown hair showing underneath. He had on a pair of black leather gloves and was holding a .45 caliber Remington M1911 semi-automatic pistol, which had a 7-round magazine, but should only contain six bullets, considering one was now buried in Sal's chest cavity.

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Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 165

Murder Is But A Memory

"You always were a melodramatic son-of-a-bitch, Victor," a voice said from back amongst the crates.

We all turned to see a tall, thin man standing in the shadows. It was a very ominous sight. Sal turned with his gun, but the dark figure pulled his own pistol, shooting Sal in the middle of the chest. He was thrown back off his feet, hitting the floor amidst a swirl of uprising dust as Diana screamed. Vic looked at his henchman without much sorrow. Saved him the trouble, I suppose.

"Now, no one else make any sudden movements, please."

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Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 164

Murder Is But A Memory

"Vic, listen. I know...," I didn't get a chance to finish my sentence. Vic knew his time was limited.

"Look, Randolph. You've caused me a lot of grief and a lot of trouble. Believe me, the only reason you're still breathing is because you were doing your best to protect Diana, and I appreciate that. But if you keep wagging that tongue, Randolph, I swear I'm gonna cut it out of your mouth and shove it up your ass! Are we clear on that?"

I opened my mouth to wag my tongue, then thought better of it and just nodded.

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Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 163

Murder Is But A Memory

Vic looked coldly at Sal, "I'll deal with you later."

He looked back at Diana, who was still clinging to me.

"Baby, do you not remember me? Do you not remember us being together? You ran away from me, I didn't know why. I worried for you."

She pulled her head from my chest and turned her bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks to Vic and screamed, "You've been trying to kill me!"

I saw it in his eyes, genuine surprise. I knew now. He wasn't trying to kill her at all. He just wanted her and the money back.

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Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 162

Murder Is But A Memory

I said, "In case you're wondering, Vic, and maybe your idiot henchmen didn't tell you this, but when they were chasing after Diana they ran her off the side of a mountain and now she has amnesia."

Vic looked shocked. He turned to Sal, "You ran her off the side of a mountain?"

Sal started shaking his head, "It wasn't like that, boss. We were trying to catch up to her. She went up this winding road. She slammed on her brakes when she came to a sharp curve and we...ran into the back of her," he said sheepishly.

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Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 161

Murder Is But A Memory

"Your actions? You killed that city councilman?" I asked incredulously.

Vic shook his head, "Not exactly. But I set him up to be killed. Favor for a friend. Nevertheless, I wasn't going to let Rosie go down for that. And I eventually worked it so any charges against her were dropped. She could actually go back to L.A. if she wanted."

"What a humanitarian you are, Vic," I said with words that dripped sarcasm.

Vic's attention turned back to Diana, with her arms around me and her cheek against my chest. I could see he was honestly perplexed by this...

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Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 160

Murder Is But A Memory

"You're right, Vic. We do have unfinished business. I want to know how you knew where Rosie moved to," I said, genuinely puzzled.

Vic smiled as he leaned against the office's door frame.

"Haven't you ever wondered which one of Rosie's customers it was that anonymously paid you to get her out of L.A. when that trouble happened at her place?"

I couldn't believe that. "You? You paid me to get Rosie out of L.A.?"

Vic just nodded his head slowly.

"Yeah. Me and Rosie went way back. I wasn't about to let her get busted because of my actions."

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Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 159

Murder Is But A Memory

"What the hell?" Vic said with utter shock. "Diana, baby, what's goin' on? Why did you run away from me?"

She looked up at me in tears, "Why do they keep calling me that?"

I smiled as I wiped a tear away, "Because that's your real name. Diana Blackmore."

She shook her head like an obstinate little girl, "I want to be Kerri. Your Kerri."

I grinned, "You are."

Sal looked at Vic, "Boss, lemme shoot his ass fulla holes."

Vic looked like he was tempted. "No, Sal. Not just yet. Mr. Jake Randolph and I have some unfinished business."

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Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 158

Murder Is But A Memory

"Diana, baby!" Vic said as he rushed to her. I turned as he went by. I saw the terror in Diana's face as he approached her. I started to make a motion toward them, and Sal cocked his pistol and shook it at me, smiling stupidly.

"I've missed you so much, baby," Vic said as he untied her arms from the chair.

She made no movement until she was free of the chair, then bolted to me, wrapping her arms around me and resting her head against my chest.

A bright, violent shade of red passed over Vic's scowling face...

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Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 157

Murder Is But A Memory

He stood there as cold and as stoic as the Statue of Liberty, only he wasn't holding a torch in the air. He was holding a .45, and had that compass of death aimed due north, right at my face.

"Youse jes don't know when to quit, do ya, Randolph?"

I lowered the gun and dropped it to the floor.

"Apparently not, Vic."

He looked at Sal, "Pick up your gun, useless. Watch him."

He waited for Sal to retrieve his gun from the floor and point it at me before he holstered his gun and looked around behind me...

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Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 156

Murder Is But A Memory

"Now," I said with total authority in my voice, "remove your gun from its holster using your left hand and toss it away."

He did exactly as he was told. I looked past him to Diana, sitting tied to a chair. She smiled at me and my heart melted and ran down my chest.

"Hang on, honey. I'll have you out of there in minute," I said, smiling widely.

"I wouldn't bank on it, Randolph," said a familiar voice behind me that made my blood run ice cold. I didn't even have to look. I knew exactly who it was...

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Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 155

Murder Is But A Memory

Sal definitely looked surprised when he saw me standing there with Rocco's pistol aimed squarely at his face. I could see in his sadistic eyes that he was trying to determine if he should go for his gun, which was in a holster under his left shoulder. Common sense won out. He raised his hand in the air.

"You know, Sally, I was kinda hoping you would go for your gun. It would give me all the excuse I needed to kill your sorry ass."

He yelled out for Rocco.

"He can't hear you in the trunk of your car."

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Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 154

Murder Is But A Memory

I moved like a jungle cat from one stack of crates to another, all the while hearing Sal verbally abusing Diana. I made it to the last stack of crates in front of the office. On either side of the door there was a giant pane of glass, which had Venetian blinds that were turned down but not quite closed. So you could only see flashes of movement inside.

I saw through the blinds what looked like Sal tying Diana to a chair.

"Gotta go find that idiot," Sal said, opening the door.

I stepped out from behind the crates...

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Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 153

Murder Is But A Memory

Rocco's pistol, a Smith & Wesson .38 Special revolver with a five-inch barrel, was a six-shooter, which were five more bullets than I needed to blow Sal's pea brains out of his cranium.

I gripped the handle of the gun tightly, making my way back up to the door. I looked through the window and didn't see any sign of Sal. As I eased the door open, I could hear him running his beligerent mouth to Diana. That was good. I needed him to stay preoccupied until I was ready to send that bastard to meet his maker...

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Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 152

Murder Is But A Memory

I hurried out the door while Rocco still had his head in the trunk. He heard someone approaching.

"Well, had an attack of conscience and decided to help out old Rocco, huh, Sal?"

He had just started to pull his head out of the trunk when I brought the lid down on it so hard I swear I heard his skull crack. And you know what? I wasn't the slightest bit concerned. I pulled his gun out of his waistband and then pushed his limp body into the trunk and pulled the lid down, locking him inside it.

One down...

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Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 151

Murder Is But A Memory

Sal opened the door, pushing Diana in and almost off her feet.

"The office is in the back, bitch. Get back there before I drag you back there by your hair," Sal said with utter callousness in his voice. I was going to love putting his carcass in the morgue.

After they went beyond the scope of the door, I popped up and looked out the window. Rocco had the trunk open, his head inside it, pulling at boxes. I realized this was my only chance to get them, while they were separated. I knew I had to act fast...