In general, private investigators are regular citizens with varying degrees of law enforcement training—or they should have such training—who are hired to snoop around and get the dirt on something or someone e.g. hired by attorneys in civil and criminal cases, by insurance companies to check into claims, and in divorce cases to see who has been stepping out and with whom, especially when money, property, and child custody are at stake (a solid pre-
Forget the magnifying glass. Today they’re more like your local retired-
There’s the high-
My guy, local P.I. Roger Gooding, isn’t one of the multi-
And to think the profession was started by a criminal! Back in 1833, Eugène François Vidocq, a French soldier and criminal himself founded the first known private detective agency and hired fellow ex-
If Roger had been my first born, he would have been an only child (sigh). He’s always had his own way of doing things, which is fine—but he was always looking for an angle, too, which wasn’t. Once, when he was ten, I told him he could not go out and play with his friends until his homework was done. Half hour later, I heard voices inside the house. When his father and I went to check, Roger had his friends inside his bedroom, and one of them was doing his homework for him, at which time he pointed out that I said he couldn’t go out but never said that they couldn’t come in. And apparently I didn’t explicitly say how the homework was to get done. Do you see why he would have made a good lawyer? I spend a lot of time praying for that boy and his father—may he rest in peace—well, he spent a lot of time shaking just his head.
Then Roger went and married that Sheraline woman. It always struck me that there was more to that one than meets the eye but he was besotted and she did have good child-
But for now, this private investigation thing seems to make him happy so I guess there’s nothing I can do but keep praying he stays out of trouble. Thankfully, yesterday he said that his next client is in Holetown—the West Coast!—so it must be someone fairly elite. I mean, the
(Look for ‘No Damn Good’)
I was hired to handle the paper work and as office security. Petite womendon’t look particularly intimidating but that’s the whole point. In just the first few weeks, though, I realized that my job at Good Investigations included making sure we weren't evicted or that the electricity wasn’t cut off.
I don’t understand my boss. He finds missing property, gets corrupt businessmen to come clean; he has even uncovered killers. But when it comes to women, his brain slows right down and either he can’t figure out a damn thing, or it takes him forever to do it. I have a bet going with myself how long it will take him to discover how his ex-
As for the ex-
For a minute, I considered a direct appraoch—following her outside, getting her a
Besides, I haven’t done that sort of thing in a couple years. For all I know, I could be losing my edge.
My mother always says that every argument has three sides and only one of them is the whole truth. Well, the truth is that Roger and I would still be married today if only he would have gotten his head out of the clouds and tried living like a grown-
People who knew him back when he was at
Three years after we got married, after busting my butt to support him during two years of law school, Roger suddenly announced that he was dropping out to become a private investigator. I’d let it slide when he furnished our apartment completely with second-
Anyway, word on the street these days is that he’s good at what he does, so I might have to start watching my back. The last thing I need is for him to come snooping around and capsize this great boat I’m sailing.
Good afternoon, come on in. Please, have a seat. So, you’re here because Ms. Sisu has decided to start writing down my little exploits and you want to hear some of it straight from the horse’s mouth.Well, I don’t like talking about myself but since you came all this way, I’ll oblige.
Can I offer you a drink? Water? Coke? I …uh…have a little something in the desk to flavor the Coke, if you know what I mean. No? Okay. Then straight down to business.
Why did I become a private investigator? Shh, not so loud! My mother strolls in here sometimes like she owns the place and we don’t want to get her started on the subject!
The truth is that I started out studying criminal law but dropped out two years in. The classroom just wasn’t for me. But I liked the… intricacies of the law, the insight into human nature, and the ways the girls used to look at me when they found out I would be mixing with a dangerous element. I ended up here as a compromise, you could say. The pay isn’t all that, but I’m my own boss.
Doesn’t my family worry about me?
My mother is too busy reminding me that Daddy is rolling over in his grave because I didn’t become a proper lawyer and complaining about wanting grandchildren to worry. My ex-
Anyway, I don’t need anyone to worry about me. I can handle myself . I have a licensed gun, of course, but what I like to say that words are often more powerful than weapons, and a man who knows how to wield his words can get himself out of hot water time and again. Out of a lot of hot water.
But, of course, if the situation leaves me no other choice, I shoot the bastard.