TRACE ELEMENT, PRIVATE EYE

April 11, 2015

Angling my DeSoto onto the boulevard, I headed for Will Rogers State Beach to meet a man I never liked. Earlier, I told Effie to close the office and beat it home to jump in the pool. The kid deserved a break. Somebody should get the opportunity to stave off the thick slab of heat […]

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THE INN AT HENCHLEY’S BROW

February 2, 2015

You approach Henchley’s Brow, so named because of the scuzzy gorse running rampant along the dunes. Your destination is the inn located there, and whether or not you’ll find it is in doubt as you suffer leg-buckling lashes of fury from the howling storm. Finally, staggered sideways by a particularly violent gust, you slam against […]

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THE DOOR AT THE BOTTOM OF THE STAIRS

January 11, 2015
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It’s like the rat said. The abandoned storage building is a concrete cube with a zigzag fire escape running up one side. You know from your firm interview with the sweating rat that a hatch located up there on the cube’s roof opens onto a secret stairwell winding down to the subterranean hideout. You flick […]

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THE DARK STILETTO

December 13, 2014

You peg the guy for a creep right off, but when he tosses 500 green on the table, you figure he’s not so bad after all. ‘It’s my wife Brigitte, Mr. Barlow. I want her followed. I got to know where she goes,’ says the not so bad creep. ‘She’s going to be at this […]

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FRED DAFFODIL, PRIVATE EYE

April 22, 2014
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Morning slapped me like a deranged walrus. My brain felt like it had been chopped and pureed by a band of angry aphids wielding barbed flails. ‘You’re an angel,’ I croaked when Wanda, my secretary, whose petals had seen the seedier side of the San Fernando Valley, poured a pitcher of gin down my face. […]

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SHAKESPEAREAN NOIR

August 19, 2013
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Perchance To Kill

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MORE NOIR TITLE SUGGESTIONS

June 11, 2013
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Be Deadly, My Heart Long Night On A Train To Misery My Dagger Plays For Keeps No Holidays For The Ice Pick I Loath You, My Love

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FAILED NOIR SENTENCES

August 13, 2012
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1.She moved across the room like a peeled avocado. 2. She looked like she could dismantle a battleship with her teeth. 3. He eyed me funny, so I bent his turban. 4. When I introduced his jaw to my fist, he made a face first inspection of the cheap carpeting.

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DIAL POETRY FOR MURDER

December 12, 2009
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fleet indian red rummaging dustlike on the plain buffalo hat You get the idea.  Me?  They call me Fillip Flan — poet and private eye.  So she said, “I want to raise your shamrock.”  She opened her blouse.  My shamrock rose.  Salute.  I kiss your clerical ruby wine lips.  I said, “The night whines on […]

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