Never Trust A Dame Who...

Three sizes. What a crock. I never bought it for a minute.

I tossed that batty blonde out on her ear. Did she really think I’d drop this case just because she waltzed in here with a tight dress and a sob story? I lit a smoke and searched my desk for whisky.

Still, I felt sorry for the broad. Growing up, she had a nice family, plenty of dough. Then she fell in with that grifter from up the hill and everything went to hell. The rubes here all love him, but he’s a mean one, Mr. G. If anything crooked happens, you can bet he’s taking a cut. One day, I’m going to catch him holding the knife.

First things first. I closed the desk drawer and got on the horn. “Jo-Jo, it’s Sam. I know G’s up to something. Spill, or I’m gonna come down there and make you talk. Okay. Your place, ten minutes.”

I looked around the office one last time before heading for Fairfax Apartments. Not a drop of hooch anywhere. Swell. That’s just the way it is in this town. No happy endings.

I swear, one day I’m getting off this dust speck.

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