He started walking home, but stopped dead in his tracks when something caught his eye. Peering beyond the glowing red embers he noticed an individual which seemed to draw his particular interest: tall, slender and fair, she had a curly mop of dark brown hair on her head—a curvy dame dressed to the nines in a blood-red silk dress, made up kinda like a china doll. It was the poor sod she had on her arm which made him raise an eyebrow: a guy who managed to bring shame to a rented monkey suit. Neither of the two recognized him right away, and for good reason; the almost permanent five-o’clock shadow, the hunch, and the paunch he earned for a life of chasing down wife-beaters, philanderers and bail-jumpers. He recognized her though all right, and a dry, humorless chuckle escaped his lips when he realized who the suit was. He took the cigarette from his mouth after a long, slow drag, exhaling a plume of thick, gray smoke in the hopes that the rather elaborate gesture would attract the pair’s attention.