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Murder Is But A Memory

by

"Now," I said as I puffed on the cigarette, "what brings you here, Miss...?"

She ignored my fishing expedition for her name. She kept her fingers through the handle of the white purse as she rested it on her lap. Lucky purse.

She cleared her throat and raised her head up to look me in the eye. She'd regained a bit of composure.

"Mr. Randolph, I need you to find someone."

"That's not unusual," I said confidently. "Who is it you want me to find?"

She looked out the window and then back at me, teary-eyed.

"Me," she said.

5 comments add one below

  • avatar

    Drew Martyn over 5 years ago

    Christopher, I can't tell you how much I'm enjoying this - made even better by the totally unexpected last line.

  • avatar

    Christopher over 5 years ago

    Thank you both. I hope you're enjoying reading it as much I am writing it.

  • avatar

    Neville Hunt over 5 years ago

    This is terrific. Chandleresque and economical. One of the few continuing stories I want to read.. Next please!

  • avatar

    Christopher over 5 years ago

    Neville, Chandleresque was indeed a compliment. One of my all-time faves. Thank you.

  • avatar

    Christopher over 5 years ago

    Thank you very much for all the kind words. I'm glad you're enjoying reading.

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