He hadn’t been a registered private detective for long.
The case he was on could well be the one that made his name; could get him noticed. The mother of one of the ladies had called at his office and asked if he could investigate and find out who killed her daughter. He had agreed to take the case on and she had agreed to his hourly rate. There had been a number of deaths and the papers were full of it. The police didn’t seem to be getting anywhere. Six local hookers murdered and found dumped in skips all around town.
He was parked in a side street, in the middle of town. He was maintaining surveillance. He had spent a lot of time at night doing this. He opened his vacuum flask and poured himself a coffee. He checked the time. It was well into the morning.
All was quiet. Time to pack up he thought. There’d be nothing more for tonight.
He finished his coffee and sat thinking. Wouldn’t it surprise every one, if he cracked this case?
He giggled softly to himself. No, he couldn’t do that. How could he? He looked around at the bundle on the back seat.
Another one for the skip on the way home, he thought.
