It was easy enough to get a gun inside the compound. When I hit that first guard, I went to knock him out. But then, they started shooting so I started shooting back. Everybody be cool. Even if it’s self defense, killing people is murder if you are breaking in.
It was easy enough to get a gun inside the compound. When I hit that first guard, I went to knock him out. But then, they started shooting so I started shooting back. Everybody be cool. Even if it’s self defense, killing people is murder if you are breaking in.
It’s easy to walk into anyplace. You just got to belong. Right uniform and walk, that is the key, having a key, too is nice. There was a party going on. Every friday, the papers said. I avoided cameras and was inside. There was something strange about the place.
When I came over to his apartment, after placing just the right craigslist ad, it was almost too easy. Key card in hand, the mark’s clothes on my back. He was close enough to my size, I’ll pass under the right light. A haircut and color, a shave… not bad.
A little research led me to his management company. A little further research led me to records of his people. A little further and I found all of their varios social networks which were fairly easy to infiltrate. Then to some of their secret profiles. Then to their darker perversions. Pay-dirt.
Clearly his fortune was vast. Janus Warring lived in a preposterous house by the sea. Driving by the gate I saw three guards. Not rent-a-cops you run into at storage units. No, these were heavies. Alert. Armed. Trained. No sneaking in. I liked my blood inside my body and my organs unperforated.
Back up the coast. I am following the name on the small note found among opened mail, bills and val-pacs. Life had become a mess for Nicole once her husband disappeared. It was a different hand, a more seductive, furtive, deceptive hand. I knew that handwriting interpretation correspondence course would come in handy.
She’s no dummy, I’ll give her that. Also, a wildcat. That bombshell left me sore, scratched, and bleeding. For me and my line of work, though I have to not let that sort of thing hook me in. She’s a job, my employer, and I have a job to do.
I am not going to play coy here. I’m a great, caring, strong lover. One doesn’t get to be a true hard boiled detective without being hard in the right situations. Strangely, many of my love affairs begin with a slap across the kisser and the exclamaition of “You bastard!”
A creak up the stairs. I’m in her bedroom. Close the drawer, pocket the note. Flush the toilet, start washing hands, high power when she walks in. Look over. Smile.
“wanted some privacy,” I say.
“why my bedroom?” She asks.
” Well, there’s that chance that you would come into it.”