Bullets in my overcoat

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic
A sex starved noir detective finds comfort in aged whiskey and self-rolled cigarettes. Stress from the occupation challenges what little sanity said detective on his so called life. That's until a dainty ginger wonders into his office with a new case and a purse full of lead.

Submitted: September 10, 2016

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Submitted: September 08, 2016



Damn, it seems that I won’t be making it out of this one alive. At least I rolled a cigarette before I left the office. I hope it’s not soggy, but I doubt it’ll make a difference anyway my overcoat is drenched, and I lost my matchbox during the shoot out. I could’ve just gone home and drank some whiskey and watched the scheduled western for the night, John Wayne or something. It doesn’t really matter now though, I’m bleeding out, back up is nowhere to be found and my vision is fading. It’s still nice to watch the chrome glisten on my snub-nose ’38 in the moonlit sky. The more blood I lose the colder it gets, the wind chill doesn’t help either. I wonder if anyone at the precinct will miss me. At least the rain will clean my overcoat for me. I’m almost glad I didn’t bring an umbrella tonight. Even with a back full of lead and a mouth full of copper all I can think about is that dame that showed up a few hours back. She had forest green eyes, a figure like Audrey Hepburn, nice full lips juicy like a market fresh plum and long red hair. And that dress, lead so much to the imagination. But being a detective you don’t get much action in my line of work. The occasional wink or two from a secretary or a murder victims widow. I usually just shake it off, the job comes first no matter what, well maybe the bottle is a close second, but I always get my man. But that dame, there something about her, I just had to take her case. I don’t know if I had motives of my own or I just needed a reason to take a smoke break, but she had me from the moment she stepped into my office. I think she knew that. As soon as she sat down she turned on the water works like the broken faucet at my apartment. She went on and on about how she thought she was being followed, and how she feared for her life. Something about unpaid debts and dead husbands. Now I’ll be the first to admit cases like this just don’t send me, it’s chicken feed. But I was bought and sold before she told me about it. So after ten minuets of thinking about taking her to a bar and sharing a glass or three of giggle water I told her I’d take her case, fifty bucks day. She was so happy that she gave me two hundred bucks that night. I actually thought to myself something doesn’t smell right about this, but in my current state any joe would’ve taken pennies from heaven. I got her address my from one of my guys in the office, he told me to drive slow. Other detectives had turned down the case. I looked at it as a way to get a new overcoat and drink away some of the autumn pain. I staked out her house for three days straight, nothing but cups of joe and cigarette butts to keep me company, that and my thoughts. Night four rolled in, I was about to take the case and throw it in the nearest waste can and tell that dame to take a powder. But then I heard a loud scream and some gun shots come from her house, I ran to her front door only to get knocked down by some goons in cheap suits. They jumped into a jalopy and sped off, I shot a few times but nothing stuck. I went into her pad and saying someone wrecked the joint wasn’t enough. She was a little jangled but she was a bit calmer than a witness to a shooting should be. She told me the boys took a few things and would be back. I called in a few squad cars to get the crime scene under control, I offered to put her up in a hotel for a few days, she wouldn’t budge. She said the guys that were after her had to much pull in town, they’d bump her off and make sure that any witnesses got the deal too. So I invited her to my pad. Let’s face it, I couldn’t watch this dame while she was out and about especially if these guys knew her usual spots, at least with me she could get away for awhile. She grabbed a few things and we left. We made it to my house about an hour later, I told her to  make herself comfortable, she did. It was kind of swell to have a dame after hours, even if it’s work. After twenty minuets or so we sat down to a drink and cigarette, she started telling me about what she wanted to be when she grew up and what she was going to do with herself once the case had been solved. I don’t know how long it was before I dozed off, all I know is that when I woke up it was pinch black. I turned on the lights and she was gone cigs and all. I looked out of my window to a thunderstorm and her jumping into some car and speeding off, I knew this was my only chance to figure out what the gag was so I grabbed my overcoat, my hat, my last cigarette and old faithful and raced to my car. I didn’t think I was going to catch up in time but I followed the car as much as I could, the storm didn’t help at all. We finally came to stop at this old abandoned brewery, and everyone in the car raced in. I knew it was a set-up, but I didn’t have much of a choice I was closing this case, besides I wanted my cigs back. I fixed my hat, loaded old faithful ran straight in. Of course I was expecting to get jumped, but instead got bullets shot in my direction. I saw my payday getting dragged away up a rusty staircase, there was no telling how this was going to go, and these bums had more guns than me. So I did the only thing I could, I ran to the staircase shot two guys an kept going, knew I needed to save some lead for the guy on the roof. I kicked the door open jammed it with some scrap metal and looked around to make sure no one would get the drop on me, the storm made it hard to really see or hear anything but that damsel had to tell me what was going on. I heard a scream coming from the right side of the roof so I ran over to see what was going on, before I knew it I had three slugs in my back and one in my leg. I fell to my face and rolled over hoping I could get a lucky shot off but it was to late, I lost my gun I knew the guy that did this had a gun on me. The storm was calming down, I heard sirens in the distance, no matter what someone was going to sing-sing tonight . All I could think of was Sinatra singing my funny valentine and why I didn’t just kiss him. Would I ever get out of the joint and would the detective feel the same way he did about me the day I walked into his office, I hope he doesn’t hate red heads after tonight.

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