Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 43
I looked at this fugitive from a pizza parlor as I had him pinned against the alley wall, the borrowed baseball bat wedged sideways under his chin. He was a slimy guido, blue pinstriped suit, a blue velvet fedora that was currently resting on the dirt covered alley ground. A face only a mother could love, and even that was a long shot.
"Which employer are you two schmucks currently disappointing?"
"Vic Stane," the hood said defiantly.
I cleared my throat, "Uh, the Vic Stane?"
He smiled widely.
I felt like the fattest turkey in the barnyard on Thanksgiving morning.
- Category: Crime, Murder & Mystery
2 comments add one below
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Neville Hunt over 8 years ago
Such a good read. It's the first thing I look at when I wake up in the morning (I just did!). Wonderful metaphors which always make me smile. I think it's the underlying humour in an otherwise serious gritty piece that makes it so enjoyable. I read a recent 'Spillane' tribute book which I enjoyed for it's subject, but yours is in a different league. (Loved the fattest Turkey...!)
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Christopher over 8 years ago
You're too kind, Neville. Thank you so much.
