Brisco Waters, Private Eye (Part 1) (standard:mystery, 0 words) [1/5] show all parts
Author: Red Storm	Updated: Jul 31 2001	Views/Reads: 3757/2352	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Meet Brisco Waters, private eye. The time and place is 1930's Chicago, where underworld kings are pushing their criminal havoc onto innocent citizens. Now this bum-turned-P.I. is up against the very people who want him dead!

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story


“My name is Natalie Schillaci, and I fear that I am in terrible danger.
I need your help.” She was overacting, but not enough to convince me 
that she wasn’t actually over her head in something bad. 

“Well I’m probably your man.” I mumbled, shuffling the bourbon bottle
back into my drawer and standing to shake her feeble hand. 

“You see, I think someone is trying to murder me, and I don’t know why.
My husband was killed only a month ago and I think that the same people 
who shot him may be after me.” She took a handkerchief from her purse 
and wiped a single tear from her eye. 

“Tell me about your husband.” I replied. 

“We were on our way to the theater to see an opera around eight o’clock
on the evening of November 18th, and a black sedan pulled up next to 
our car as my husband prepared to go inside the theater. Three men 
jumped out of the sedan and shot him with machineguns. I was already 
walking to the door of the theater when it happened, and was not 
injured. Last week I asked my chauffeur to pull our secondary 
automobile around to the front of my estate, and a carbomb exploded, 
killing him instantly. I know the bomb was intended for me. What these 
people have against me, I do not know.” 

“Sounds like a mob hit to me,” I grumbled, mostly to myself. Why would
the mob want to kill this woman? Probably something the husband was 
into. It wasn’t unusual for mobsters to kill off an entire family of 
someone crossing them, to make a point for others. I would have to 
check it out. 

“Tomorrow night I have a public appearance to make at a social club that
my husband owned, to deliver a speech. I am afraid for my safety, since 
this will be the first time I have made a scheduled public appearance 
since the time of my husband’s murder.” 

“Where is this club?” I asked. She dropped a business card on my desk
which read “The Chaotic Charter”. I slipped the card into my shirt 
pocket and watched as she left my office. I had to know what I was up 
against, and I had a pretty good idea where to start. 

To Be Continued Next Week...(If I get good ratings on this one)


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