1950’s Detective Pastiche
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1950's Detective Pastiche Death of the Rich It was 5:30 on a cold, wet wintry afternoon. I was sitting in my office smoking a cigar. I was very comfortable in my blue suit. It had just been cleaned. The shirt was pure white and my tie dark blue. I felt clean and sober. For the first time in a very long time. I was just about to leave when a tall milky skinned dame walked in. Blond hair, great figure, lips like cherries and blue eyes. She sat down, smoothed her red skirt and watched me curiously, like a cat watching her prey. While twiddling her golden locks she said, "Did you hear about the Rothwell case?" "Yes, what is it to you?" I said suspiciously. "I have information. Could interest you." She spoke calmly as she hitched up her skirt. "I wouldn't be sure of that," I sneered "It's about who killed him," she said so coolly...

