Tracer Spade - Private Eye

It was a dark night in a city that knew how to keep its secrets. I lowered my hat and turned up my overcoat as I walked through the bitter cold that had frozen the city's heart. I had a .38 in my holster, fifty greenbacks in my pocket and a case to investigate. Tracer Spade - Private Eye, that's what they called me.

It was two days ago that she had shown up at my office. Business was dull, the fridge was empty and so was my bank account. The door swung open and trouble walked in. Tall, blonde, beautiful and dangerous. She looked familiar, but then, most did. I listened to her yarn and reviewed the facts. There wasn't much to go on but she was a pushy dame and I was a sucker for tall blondes so I offered to do it for fifty bucks a day plus expenses.

And now, it was time. I had shadowed her to the building. She hadn't noticed me because I hadn't let her. I leaned against a lamp-post in the shadows smoking a Laramie slim while I watched her fumble with the keys. I knew where she lived. Apartment 5B. It was going to be easy. The locks put up a fight but I had the upper edge. I had been quiet. And I meant to stay quiet. The .38 would do the talking. She was humming softly with her eyes closed as she clasped her necklace. I placed the .38 on the nape of her neck. She stiffened. Click!

"Oh, knock if off darling. Have you been out rehearsing again? You do know that we still have two weeks to practice till the play opens..."