It rained today in the city of Ottawa. Rained down like the corruption that pervades this whorish city. When you’ve been a private dick for this long, its hard not to take a cynical view of everything. On the outside, this city seems like it’s all talk. She’s pretty enough on the outside, and draws strangers in. But at the heart of things, at the core, lies a decaying world of thugs and underlords; like an apple rotting from the inside out. Nothing is what it seems here. Take this case for example.

I was busy having a staring contest with the phone one fall morning, when Beulah let me know that we had a visitor. In walks this dame who looks like she’s full of pain; too much pain for a woman in her early 20s to take. You can always tell it from the eyes. Skin lies, but the eyes age by experience, not through time.

Still, I had to try really hard to feign disinterest. She had a free flowing bob of red hair, piercing blue eyes, and gams that seemed to go on forever. But the scowl on her face where her smile should have been told me not to try my luck. This broad was 10 miles of trouble on a 2 mile street. But those getaway sticks! And those eyes. A schmuck could get lost trying to find his way back out of those, and in this business you need a quick wits and even quicker reflexes. I could tell already that this case would be trouble. But at the time, I didn’t know how much.

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