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It was a dark night in a city that knew how to keep its secrets. I was on the thirteenth floor of the acme building, keeping myself company by nursing a bottle of scotch. I’d had a dry spell with cases recently, but damned if I was gonna go thirsty because of it.
My landlord had been ragging on me to pay my rent, so I had taken to sleeping in my office. Margo had just left for the night — when I heard a knock at the door. ‘Come in!’ I said, thinking that she had left her purse behind. And then she walked in, a dame with legs a mile long and fur the color of fresh snow.
She was as fine a purebred as I’d ever seen.
”I need your help, Mewrlowe,” she said in a breathy voice. Well, she wasn’t from around here, that’s for sure.
“Take a seat,” I said. “Care for a smoke?”
With a vague wave of her paw, she dismissed my attempts at courtesy. She went right to the point of her visit. “My owner’s been missing for a week now. I think she may be dead.”
Oh, it was going to be one of those cases.
I lit a cigarette and waited for her to continue…
(via oldfilmsflicker)
oh,just one more thing…
Of course the first thing I thought about was Garrison Keillor’s Guy Noir haha
Favorite cat photo of the week. :)
I wanna punch you in your face, dude. really. STOP