Friday, April 12, 2013

Detective John Dolye: The Case of Kennedy's Assassination

My cigarette smoke mixed with the smoke of my .38. If business was as good as my aim, Id be on easy street. preferably Ive got an office on 49th Street and a tremendous relationship with a string of collection agents. My name is Doyle. can Doyle. What people call is something else again. Im a snobby eye. It says so on my door. I keep two magnums in my desk. Ones a gun, and I keep it loaded. The others a bottle and it keeps me loaded. Suddenly my door swung open, and in walked trouble. A dame, as usual. The dame said she had a case. She hygieniced comparable a case her self, but I cant choose my clients.

It was some other baffling case. But then you dont hire a private eye for the easy ones. The last thing I cherished this morning was a case to solve, but the broad was persuasive. nearly broads are, some how. She was the pushy type, the kind whod break your heart, or maybe your arms. I told her it would cost her fifty bucks a twenty-four hours, plus expenses. The sound of greenbacks slapping across my palm is music to my ears any day.

I stepped forth into the showery streets and reviewed the facts.

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A top man had been knocked off, in public during the day odd place for boil down him down. Im supposed to find out who knock him off. Questions poured down like rain. Where were the shots fired? Whos the mug that cut him down? And what were they doing it for? I had a hunch that before this was everywhere Id be sorry I asked.

First I figured Id reach Ruby. Jack was a small time trouble boy, and proprietor of a local dive The Carousel...

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