Noir: Cover Story

I scribbled the details in my pad, then hung up, wondering what my chances were of getting into the Topaz, and what was breaking inside. DeSibio? Trouble – that was for sure.

I stepped from the booth- and damn! He was right in front of me: fedora, raincoat PI guy, and looking more sober that I’d given him credit for.

“Now”, he said, “who the hell are you?”


“Following me since Gunn’s – so, what’s the big idea?”

True to my profession, I scrabbled to pluck a story out of thin air.

“M..Mr Jellicoe, isn’t it?” I stammered excitedly. “The radio star? Aw shucks, I knew it was you – I called my wife to say so; she is so thrilled. Sir, we are big fans!”

“The radio, huh?” He peered at me narrowly. “So – it’s my autograph you’re chasing?”

“W…Well, yes sir!” I replied, keeping up the act.

He nodded slowly, drawing a pen from an inner pocket. “Your pad, kid.”

I hesitated, then turning to a blank page, handed it over. He looked at it curiously for a second, then scrawled quickly and thrust it back at me.

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