Travels Through An Imaginary Landscape

Detective O’Halloran was undoubtedly more than a little surprised when Jerry and I, still resplendent in our evening dress, strolled into his office at police headquarters in the early hours of the morning. He was even more surprised when Amber and Morrie the Bookman, having temporarily put their quarrel to one side in their curiosity to find out what I might know of the red book, traipsed in after us. Personally I would have been much happier if we could have ditched them somewhere along the way for in truth I was already beginning to have doubts about my ‘Eureka’ moment. Continue reading →

The fact that it was less than a week since a man had been shot dead in the middle of the dancefloor appeared to have done little to dampen the enthusiasm of the patrons of the Blue Room – the place was as lively as ever when we showed up again that night in our finest evening wear. On closer inspection though a layer of suppressed hysteria seemed to simmer just below the surface gaiety. All around us lowered voices tinged with anxiety discussed the circumstances of Egan’s arrest and the progress of the police investigation. Everyone it seemed was expecting trouble sooner or later. Continue reading →

The apartment that Vince Egan had provided for Chuckles Bryson was situated in an ornate six-storey building sited along a broad, leafy avenue. Slitting throats was clearly a business that paid well in this town. On our first pass we walked straight by on the opposite side of the road, taking note of the stout middle-aged doorman patrolling the entrance to the building. “Don’t be fooled by the smart uniform,” murmured Jerry as we passed, “Egan runs a very rich gambling outfit from in there. I’ll lay odds of ten to one that doorman is packing some serious heat beneath that braided jacket and he won’t take kindly to strangers nosing around.” Continue reading →

“Well, well, well,” said Jerry, twirling his hat thoughtfully in his hands as we walked away from Amber’s apartment building. “Amber Allen and Knuckles Bryson – I’ve got to hand it to you, I never saw that one coming. I guess there’s just no accounting for taste.” Continue reading →

After finishing the second bottle of champagne the four of us arranged to meet up a little later for breakfast, in order to allow everyone to freshen up and change out of their evening clothes into something a little more daywear appropriate. At a local diner, over coffee and waffles, Jerry and Woody filled us in on the details of the nightclub shooting at the heart of their investigation. Continue reading →

“Do you want to call it a day?” asked Michael in a tone which suggested he very much hoped my answer would be yes.

I couldn’t really blame him. We’d spent most of the day trawling the area, searching for a hidden room in a neighbourhood stuffed with buildings where rooms were packed in tighter than sardines in a tin. And where the answer to nearly every question we asked seemed to be, “None of your goddamn business.” Continue reading →