Three Word Wednesday

Banter; noun: the playful and friendly exchange of teasing remarks; verb: Talk or exchange remarks in a good-humored or teasing way.

Fumble; verb: Use the hands clumsily while doing or handling something; noun: An act of using the hands clusily while doing or handling something.

Glance; verb: Take a brief or hurried look; hit something at an angle and bounce off obliquely; noun: A brief or hurried look.




                               Sucker

      It all started Monday morning and boy I hated Monday mornings. As I climbed the steps to my tiny office I could feel the waves of heat all ready seeping through my cheap suit. It was hot enough to fry an egg out there and it was only eight a.m. The door was stiff in the heat and I noted that someone had tried to break in. There were scratches by the door. Everything looked in its place. The cabinet with my files was still locked as was my desk. Obviously an attempt to break in but not a success.

    I threw my hat up on the coat rack in the corner and peeled off my suit coat jacket hoping that my window fan would kick in soon. Then I took the bag I was carrying with my breakfast over to the coffee cup on the shelf. I cracked the two eggs into it and then poured orange juice over them. Oops almost forgot the chaser a little Tabasco sauce. Good for what ailed me as my head ached from the cocktails I’d imbibed last night. I then sat in my desk chair blessing the fact that I had been gifted by a client a chair with swivel and wheels. I swivelled for a bit then turned and faced my door wishing for a client to breeze in to end my boredom. 
   I read my etched name Jack Daniel Forbes private investigator on the door for the fifteenth time. I swiveled once again to look at it and I was surprised to find a woman standing there. And not just any woman, this woman was a knock-out. She had blonde hair in fashionable chignon. A real looker with her bright blue eyes and come hither smile, and gams that want on and on in her skirt that was split up to the knee. She had the look of that movie star you know the one I mean; Carol Lombard now she was classy not like that Mae West who you couldn’t bring home to your mother.

    Except the dame was smiling she was grimacing as if to keep from crying and as she pulled out a tear stained handkerchief and walked over closer to me I could see her eyes were red and puffy as well.

“Are you Mr. Forbes?” she asked her voice musical even when trembling

“Yah I’m Jack Daniel Forbes like the sign says.” I answered intrigued by whatever she wants to tell me

“Can I trust you?” she asked

“I’m very trustworthy ma’am and unless you’ve committed a crime there are no worries on that score.” I reassured her

“I have to trust someone I’m going out of my mind.” she stated hesitating “Maybe if I knew a little bit more about you?”

“Well you know the skinny on me. My name is Jack Daniel Forbes. I was copper for ten years until the heat got a little too hot when I turned in some flatfeet for being on the take. That old blue wall went up and this detective was down for the count until I opened up my own private investigation office three years ago.”

“That’s all very interesting I suppose but I still don’t know that I should trust you if word should get back….”

“I was named after the whiskey bottle my mother finished the night I was conceived. Hey why am I telling you that? That’s a little bit too personal sorry.” I blurted out surprising myself felling that I fumbled a little there

    There was something about this dame that made me want to reveal everything about myself to her.

“No I appreciate your candour. I’m not much for banter anyway. I suppose I can reveal things about myself as well. My name is Mrs. Grace-Ellen Parks and someone is trying to kill me.” she blurted out and then begins sobbing all over the place.

   Now am I sucker when a women cries. I can’t stand the wallowing. It does something to me. All I want to do was take her in my arms but she said she was a Mrs., and I respect the bonds of matrimony. So I just patted her arm saying there, there and handed her the handkerchief out of my suit coat jacket.

“You are a gentleman, aren’t you?” she said glancing at me in surprise and wiping her eyes gently patting them

“I try ma’am. “I replied

“My husband is trying to kill me.” she stated in a stage whisper as if she was afraid to say it

“No you have to be mistaken.” I replied

“I am not mistaken. Maybe you weren’t the right man for the job after all.” She states rising in a graceful way.

“No wait Mrs. Grace-Ellen Parks if your ball and chain really is trying to do away with you then you need someone like me to prevent it.”

“I don’t know what to do what if I’m wrong? I wouldn’t want it getting back to my ex-husband.” She retorted

“Ex but you just said he was your husband.” I protested

“A slip of the tongue, he divorced me a few months ago but my Daddy, Judge Banks got me alimony. I’m not poor I can pay your fee.” She explains

“Oh so that’s it your ex wants to do. He wants to rid himself of you to stop letting out his pockets.” I exclaimed

“Do you think that’s it?” She asked excited

“Yes.” I replied proudly

“Come to my house at six p.m. so we can plan some more. Here’s the address. Don’t be late.” She demanded “Good-bye.”

  At five twenty five I went to my desk drawer to get my gun a Remington .41 calibre Double Derringer. It was my only purchase when becoming a private detective. I had my throw away strapped to my ankle calf but this baby was my pride in joy. It would certainly defend the dame from her murderous ex. I turned the key and to my surprise no gun. Damn someone had gotten in here after all and they had my gun. I would have to report it missing later to some of my buddies I still had left on the force. I was going to be late if I didn’t hurry. Thank goodness I had my trusty back-up.

   I arrived at the address a few minutes before six p.m. to see the door a jar. Had he gotten in ahead of me? I bounded up the stairs to hear a gunshot. Was I too late? I ran into the house hoping to find her and save her. I heard yet another gunshot coming from the upstairs bedroom. I bounded up the stairs opened the door to find her holding the gun over a man bloodied on the floor. He had a huge wound in his chest which he was bleeding heavily from. She had shot him straight through the forehead the second time. That was not a pretty picture as the blow back was disgusting to say the least. She stood frozen as if in shock and then the shivering began. I went to the bedroom next door and grabbed a blanket throwing it around her shoulders.

“He was trying to kill me. I shot him.” she croaked

“Yes you shot him with my gun that you took.” I complain loudly

“I had to I was so scared.” she answered tears pooling in her eyes again

   I took her in my arms and comforted her only to have her push me into the bedroom next door. There I let matters get out of hand and the next thing I know the cops are breaking in guns a blaze to find us in flagrante delicto. She’s crying rape and saying I killed her husband.

    We were both arrested her sticking to her story that I killed her husband and was in the process of raping her. (Yes he was her husband not her ex as she claimed.) She claimed I was stalking her and her husband had spoken to me and then I had plotted to kill him.

  It seemed I was in a fix. I was in jail nearly a week before the key to breaking her story came out. You see I didn’t keep the bullets with the gun so she had to buy bullets. My buddy on the force Pat O’Malley tracked down the gun shop Grace-Ellen bought the bullets at and that’s where her story unravelled. Seems she had been plotting all this for awhile and I was just the patsy she picked.

    Mrs.Grace-Ellen Parks had done this before in three different states each time picking out a patsy for the fall guy. She was a black widow getting rich of the proceeds of each of her husbands’ demise. One of those men she had conned had been hung for her crime; the other two were awaiting their execution in the electric chair.

   Grace-Ellen wasn’t even her real name. Her name was really Eunice Perkins from Arley Alabama. Seems they wanted her there too she’d killed her whole family there and took every penny they had.

    As for me I’m very grateful to Pat O’Malley for saving my bacon. We started seeing each other quite a bit. What can I say I’m a sucker for tears and when she cried because I was free I saw Pat in a new light. She wasn’t just a police administrator I could banter with, she was a woman and a darn good investigator. She was the one that tracked down all the information on that woman. She didn’t even throw my fumble in my face and when I glanced at her I saw true beauty. They’ll be no more women tricking this P.I. I’ve got a partner now and the name on the door is Jack and Pat Forbes Private Investigators.