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Requiem For A Stripper #151

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I waited in my office for Harrigan to call back. I cleaned my gun and sharpened a couple of pencils. Then I went to window. The fly was lying in the sill, face up. And I didn't think he was napping.

"Rest in peace, brother," I said as the phone rang. I grabbed it.

"Jake Randolph," I said.

Harrigan was all business, "The number is registered to a guy named Horace Busby at Skyview Apartments, corner of Crenshaw and West Adams."

"Has he got a rap sheet?" I asked.

"No arrests but he has unpaid parking tickets a mile high."

3 comments add one below

  • avatar

    Christopher 10 months ago

    My research is getting ridiculous. I originally had Harrigan saying "..parking tickets out the wazoo." But then I looked up the origin of that phrase and it wasn't around in the 1940s.

  • avatar

    Neville Hunt 10 months ago

    The return of the fly! Bye bye fly!

    Regarding your research, Christopher, I always take whatever you write as accurate for the time setting.

  • avatar

    Christopher 10 months ago

    That one almost slipped by me. I had written that particular drabble several days ago, and it wasn't until just before I posted it that I second-guessed whether or not that phrase had been coined yet.

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