Chapter 2: A Private Dick in Action
I’ve said it before, I always like to make a grand entrance. And kicking the door down is a real attention getter. Besides, it’s fun.
I followed the falling door into the bedroom, Wilma held before me in the classic two-handed grip. Taking in the scene, I was surprised to find that he was even more of a bastard than I had thought.
This girl’s father, an important attorney, had hired me to check out this new boyfriend of hers. The father, as most fathers do, did not like him, and wanted me to find proof that he was unsuitable for his young, innocent daughter. I had doubts that a nineteen year old that good looking and with that kind of come-and-get-it body was still a virgin, but he was paying me and for that kind of money she could be a nun as well as a virgin.
So I tailed them. He never suspected that I was following him, except for a brief bit when I tripped over that waiter’s foot and caused a mess in the restaurant.
From my observations, I had to agree with her father; this guy was just too good to be true. There was a certain slickness about him that set my teeth on edge. The daughter, just nineteen and fresh out of high school, was totally taken in by a man in his early twenties who had taken such an interest in her. When he drove her to his apartment, I knew he was going to make his move.
Time for Sled Speed, the world’s greatest Private Dick, to move in. Her father had made it clear that he did not want this man, or any other, to deflower his precious little girl. Normally, I would never consider interrupting two consenting adults in the act of procreation. But this time I was being paid to prevent that act from happening.
Things changed when I snuck into his apartment and listened outside his bedroom door. I had expected to hear some giggling, maybe a sigh or two, perhaps even a cry of delight if I had been a little too late. What I heard was a muffled scream.
Now, people, I’ve been around the block a few times, and seen some pretty weird and kinky stuff. One time I rescued a sorority girl from the hands of white slavers down in old Mexico. And once rescued my main squeeze from a mad scientist who was performing experiments in pain that the AMA would never approve. What I’m saying is that I know a scream of distress when I hear it.
I pulled Wilma out of my shoulder holster, told her to get ready, and kicked down the door. Yeah, I know, it probably was not locked and I could have just opened it carefully, but, as I said, a loud, grand entrance gets people’s attention better.
The perp was kneeling on the bed with a blade at the girl’s breast. That didn’t sit well with me. I pointed Wilma direct at his head, aiming right between the eyes, and told him, in my gruff private dick voice, “Hold it right there, punk!”
His eyes went wide with fear. Looking at Wilma from the front like that does it to men.
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