Just When You Think You Have an Easy Case…

“Well, you’ve come to the right place,” I said in my smoothest, most nonchalant voice. “Take a seat, make yourself comfortable,” I continued, propping my feet back up, stretching out my long legs, and running my hand through my hair.
“Thank you,” she responded politely, moving toward the chair, grasping it with her velvet gloves, then adjusting herself in the seat. “Well, see my husband, he-” she paused for a moment. Damn, all the good women are taken! “Well, see, my husband, he’s been involved in a lot of ‘incidents’, and I think our lives are in danger. I don’t have any real proof, but it always feels like there’s someone in the shadow, like, like-“
“Like you’re being followed?” I finished, casting my eyes up to the ceiling, pulling the pipe out of my desk and lighting it without glancing back at it. She nodded, and I imagine that she had a very concerned countenance at that moment, though I couldn’t look through her veil; not like I cared. I learned it was never worth it to get even remotely emotionally involved in a case. Until you know how padded their pocketbook is, of course.
“Could you do something about that?” She kind of looked at me funny, and I just kind of looked back. “Well, I don’t really know what I’m asking for,” she interjected, breaking the awkwardness. “I don’t even know if you can help. I just thought-“
“You know, I’ve done hundreds of cases,” I said wistfully “and I know exactly how they all begin. Just like that.” I gestured with my pipe at her, moving my eyes back to the ceiling. “I can do it. But it’s going to cost you; my usual ra-“
Just then, a series of loud pops went off behind me, breaking the serenity of the moment, shattering the window behind me and tearing the blinds. I felt a searing pain and quick air just above my shoulder. Instinctively, I immediately pulled my gun out of my hidden holster, falling to a position behind my desk. The firing abruptly stopped, and I catiously poked my head up to see where it had come from, but my assailants had fled. I was quite angry about another attack on my life, but even more perturbed that they had forced me to drop (and possibly damage) a perfectly good pipe. I sighed, reholstering my gun, vaguely satisfied that I was still alive.
“Could’ve been worse,” I commented as I turned to look at my guest.
“Aww hell…”

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