Date: Sat, 2 Jul 2005 22:03:40 -0700 (PDT)
From: Farrell Mc Nulty <brendanchenowith@yahoo.com>
Subject: Detective's Log

This is the story of a hard-boiled detective whose life is turned around
by the arrival of his hot young assistant, who followed him most of his
life and has always been in love with him.  The entire thing is available
at

www.detectiveslog.blogspot.com


  CHAPTER ONE - Mike Batz, Private Eye

June 12, 2005, Sunday night, I'm lucky to be alive. I just got back to my
office from the hospital where I was treated for a minor injury to my
upper left chest right under the shoulder. It was a 45 caliber injury, if
you get my meaning. Now, this is rather appropo as this area is pretty
close to my heart, which was shattered. See, the day started off like any
other. A woman walks into my office about 9:00. She'd been out all night
the night before. Never one to mince words, I said, "lady, you look like
hell" "Oh, thank you. Is this your idea of client relations?" "It's out
of concern. You had a rough night. Obviously, or else you wouldn't have
come to see me." At this point, I was standing with my hands on my hips
and my legs a little spread apart, and with a stern look on my face. I
ain't a guy you mess around with. It's a gesture on my part to show who's
really in charge. I nodded to an empty chair and said "park it there and
spill it. Somethin's up." I leaned forward as she sat, clutching a purse,
sitting with her legs very tight together, sitting at a slightly sideways
angle. "I'm in trouble. I fear for my life, I hear that someone has put a
contract out on me." "From who?" "Whom." "Whatever - who's gonna kill
ya?" She looked up at me with what you might call puppy-dog eyes. I stood
up straight, spread my legs a bit further apart and folded my arms. It
was a hot day, my sleeves were rolled up. When a guy's arms are folded,
you can see a bit of muscle. I know she was lookin' at that. I can't say
I blame her. This dame rubbed my forearms up and down with her eyes. She
then moved down a little bit to my waistline and stared at my belt
buckle. She cotinued.

"I was in a relationship, an abusive one. Oh, it didn't start off like
that, it was a very good one at the time. He was so handsome. He said
he'd reach into heaven and pull a star down for me as a present...." I
then began to drift off a bit, "Leapin' Lifetime TV" I scoffed inside.
She went on to tell me she found out this guy was involved in organized
crime. He didn't want to tell her because he felt it would only lead to
trouble for her. Damn right it would. The trouble was, he'd have to kill
her unless she'd join the gang. She refused, and fled, staying with a
girlfriend. She'd heard about this contract from an anonymous source. As
she continued on, I then changed my pose a little, now slightly rockin'
back and forth on my heels, lookin' downward at her with a hint of
suspicion in my narrowing eyes, my mouth cracked slightly open, mumbling
"uh-huh" through gritted teeth, my eyebrows raising up. "Please, you've
got to find out who wants to kill me. " Another pose change. This time, I
walked with a slight swagger, around the desk and leaned up against the
front of the desk, putting my left thigh on the desk with my right foot
firmly planted on the floor. I crossed my arms again, this time jamming
my right hand under my left armpit, while my left arm was folded across
and my left hand was holding my right upper arm. "Why do you want to know
this?" "So I can reason with this person, whoever it may be." "Well,
leavin' town's always an option." "No, I will not flee. I will not give
up my life." I uncrossed my right arm, furrowed my brow, gritted my teeth
and pointed at her. "Listen, lady, your life's already up for grabs.
You're worth more dead than alive in this town. A killer ain't got a
jurisdiction nowhere else. It's like the cops." "You'll be paid very
handsomely. However, not as handsomely as you look." She gave me a slight
smile. She stood up, placed her hands on my shoulders and gave me a kiss.
I pulled back, but not for the reason I gave which was, "hold on. I'm
workin' this case, I can't get personal. Don't get any funny ideas,
there." She regained her composure and nodded, "of course, how foolish of
me. Here's my number." She took a piece of paper out of her purse and
scratched her phone number on it and handed it to me. I then gave her my
business card, which she placed in her purse and walked out the door. I
walked back to my chair and nearly sunk in. I was sweatin' bullets. I
took out a handkerchief and wiped the sweat off my forehead, and exhaled,
"aw, holy crap."

A few minutes later, my Boy Friday walks in. He's a kid I hired to work
for me here, answerin' my calls, and all that. He's also pretty good with
his dukes. Bein' that he's 6'3, built like a brick shithouse, not a hair
out of place. Works out a lot, looks good and he knows it, too. I'm all
but blown away by this "aw shucks" attitude of his. Today, he was wearing
one of his typical outfits, what you wanna call a polo shirt with the
quarter sleeves wrapped around his bi-ceps. He'd also been shot and
bounced back from it pretty quick. A bullet had grazed his shoulder and
it left a bit of a bullet fragment which was removed and he just had to
get some stitches. He came in walked up to my desk, spread his legs a
little and was swinging his arms back and forth, snapping the fingers on
his right hand, forming a fist and gently slapping his open left palm.
"Hey, what's shakin', boss-man?"

"I think I am", I replied. My boy Friday is also my best friend, comrade,
confidant. You know you can't trust too many people in my line of work,
even fellow detectives, we're all tryin' to beat each other out with who
has the most cases, like there's some kind of prize with it. But I can
trust this kid. He brings out the best in me. I never had any kids, but I
love this kid like he's my own. He's always so cheerful, so enthusiastic,
laughs in the face of danger, thinks it's cool when we're in fisticuffs
with our far-from-worthy opponents. After we escape an attempt on our
lives, he's the first to exclaim, "wow! we made it! cool". I thank God
for this kid every day. He's the best goddamn thing to happen to me. He's
a life saver in more ways than one.