JV’s Pulp Fiction from the 1930’s

Image from "Touch of Evil."

I was in my office on the 27th floor of the Acme building twilling a pencil waiting for a customer to walk through that door. My assistant Lisa had just given me a new cup of coffee when the phone rang.

“Hello, the names Sam Spud, Private Eye,”I said,…”yes”…”ok”
…”I’m on my way.” It was about 11pm when I grabbed my coat and walked on to the chilly street.
I walked around the town for an hour looking for Aceme (this is  what Sam thought the person said) building until I realized that the person was in a crying mess and I’d misunderstood her. I found myself back on the 27th floor of the Acme building walking down a hall of abandoned private eye offices. I tried not to look at the boarded up offices as I walked past. Some of the names on the doors read: Sid Sim or Sim Sall, how cliché I thought. I came to an office at the end of the hall that had a light on inside and the door said Mary Mis – private detective. I opened the door and found a woman crying uncontrollably. I assumed that she was Mary Mis. I found her a glass of water and calmed her down to the point where I could understand her. She said that her husband left home for work and never came back. She also explained why she didn’t call the police and why she is not doing it herself but that’s not important. I asked her about anybody that might be suspicious she had two names: Steve Mona and Carrel Holmes. Both were coworkers at the office building down the street.
I decided to start there so I went to have a talk with them. I soon learned that both of their positions would be compromised if Mary’s husband was promoted to a higher position. It wasn’t much but it was a start. I was asking around the office about the two suspicious men until one coworker said that he saw them hanging around the old warehouse down by the dock. He didn’t put much thought on it till now. I decided to follow Steve and Carrel after work.
I took the back alleys to stay hidden until I remembered that my rent was two weeks over due. I was just about to step out onto the street when I was plucked off the ground by what seemed like a gorilla and he gave me a good beating. Even though I was face down I thought I was looking at the stars. I managed to stumble all the way to the warehouse and saw the two men talking. It was raining that night, and the tin roof didn’t help overhearing conversions. I decided to go in and see what I could see. The door creaked as I opened it and the light from inside almost blinded me, my eyes soon adjusted and I began to walk around. As I was walking around, I tripped and fell flat on my face. As I pushed a few boxes that I had knocked down back in to place, I heard a click and the floor opened up.
There was a ladder leading down into it; it was very dark at the bottom. I groped around for a light switch for a minute or so until at last I found the switch. I turned it on and there was Mary’s husband. He looked very gruff like he’d not shaved in a while. I untied him and we snuck out and devised a plan. I would pretend to have gun while Mary’s husband called the police. “Sticke’m up Steve and Carrel and don’t turn around.” I told the two men. (I always carry a hollow tube about the same diameter of a gun barrel just for these kinds of encounters.) The police soon arrived and arrested the two. Mary’s husband and I returned to her office. She was so happy to see her husband again that she spilt her coffee all over and almost forgot to pay me. “All in a day or so’s work for Sam Spud,” I said as I walked away in a cloud of cigar smoke.
Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under JV, Writing

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s