part 2
In walked trouble, brunette as usual. She walked – or rather, glided into the room. The kind of broad that made you sit up and then some, but that’s not saying much, especially for me. Wasn’t that I didn’t want to. Despite all that she was the innocent, rich kind, the type whose shit smells like roses. Black dress. Funeral, or one of those classy broads. Red leather purse. Gaudy enough to tell me that she just came into money. No classy dame would wanna be seen with that thing, I knew. Suitcase… Holiday? I could tell this would be a good day.

“I was in the area and I saw your sign. Are you a detective?”

“You don’t look the type to just drop by, missy. And the door coulda told you just fine.”

“Haha! They said you were a witty one.”

”Who’re they?”

She ignored my question and went straight for the crux of the matter – no one ever had a sense of humour anymore. Makes me wonder why I bother.

“I need you to find something for me. I’m told you’re good at that sort of thing?”

“Yeah? That the same ‘they’ you were talking about?” Before she got the chance to offer the witty rebuttal they all seemed to like giving, I continued.

“Look. I’m a busy man here… I ain’t got time ta look for whatever it is you lost. Call lost and found or something, yeah?”

“Busy enough to doze off in your chair? Look, Mr. Garrett, I’m very willing to make this worth your while.”

Maybe the realisation that she’d caught me napping stung me. Maybe it was the ‘worth your while’ comment. Or something else. All I knew was that she was right, I had nothing better to do, so it was down to playing findsman. I HATE playing findsman. But then again, I also hated eating leftover Chinese. Left a bad taste in my mouth. Wasn’t the only thing.

“How much?”

“How fast can you finish the job?”

“Depends on my motivation.”

The suitcase sprang open, and I decided maybe findsman wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

“I am prepared to offer you 5 million dollars, Mr. Garrett. Half now, half upon completion. The details of the job are included inside the case. Have a good day, Mr. Garrett, and I hope to hear from you soon.”

Just like that, the chick was gone. Reminds me of my last relationship. Make that only relationship. Details.

Details. I dug through the suitcase and found a manila folder tucked underneath a wad of bills. An array of photos and text greeted me as I opened it up, looked pretty open and shut to me. So why get me to do the dirty work? Looked pretty foolproof, but then again fools had a rep for defying expectations. Then I got to the gist of it.

To be continued