Hey. The name's Tracer Bullet. I'm a private eye, it says so right on the office door. I'm a Reploid, one who likes a drink now and then. Private Eye isn't an easy job, it's got no description, which is harder to figure out than how to fix a pump action shotgun when it was loaded wrong.
It was a normal day, nothing much happening. Another baffling case had just come to me that I'd finished, but then, you don't hire private eyes for the easy cases...

CHAPTER ONE

Today I'd planned to take th' day off, spend a lot of quality time with a couple of friends of mine. My friends travel light and they're a barrel of monkeys when they're around. One travels in a holster, and the other in a hip flask. And at all times, I like to keep two magnums in my desk. One's a gun, and I keep it loaded. The other's a bottle and it keeps ME loaded. Always be prepared, that's what I was taught.
But a client came into my office. He looked like he had a case. His bank had been robbed. A minor job, but it's what get's the bills paid. Especially Bill, my Bookie, and Bill, my Security guard for the building. It's a tough job, despite it's minority, but I'm a tough guy.

"So your bank was robbed."
"Yeah. I want you to find out who did it."
"I figured that much."
"So how much is it gonna cost me?"
"10."
"WHAT?! I'll give you 5."
"8."
"6."
"7 and a half."
"Deal."
"Now get outta here. I gotta work in peace."

He left my office. 7.5 grand was a nice price. I pulled out my file cabinet. I was looking for my suspects. Filed under S, of course.

"Well, there we are. Bank robbing suspects and leads to suspects. That's the file."

I took it out and flipped through it. As I looked, a name caught my eye. 'Barnum Circus Acts'.

"Alright. Now to the bank."

It wasn't going to be easy. I knew that. Bank heists were never easy. Well, not usually. Hopefully the guy was the kind who'd rob a store and only take marshmellows.

When I arrived at the bank, hoping to see shattered windows and scared clerks, all I saw was a large monitor showing losses of money. Probably from the bank heist. I decided to take a look around.

"Who's the manager here?"
"I am."

He was tall and skinny. Not what I was expecting...I was expecting short and fat, but you never know. He was young, another thing I wasn't expecting.

"What happened?"
"The bank was robbed. Electronically."

Damn. This case was going to be hard. Something I don't often like.

"I don't know how much I can do. But I can try to do what I can. Got a laptop?"
"Yeah."
"Thanks."

I took a look around for lost traces of this and that, maybe an IP address, which was what I found.

"Found it."
"You did?"
"Yeah. Easy as loadin' a hammer lock."
"Thank God."
"I'll be back ASAP... however long THAT could be."

The place was from the city limits, a place I dared not go. Not in Detroit. If it were the city limits by the Detroit River... maybe I'd have cared less. Canadians aren't scary. But people with dispositions are.
I was familiar with the building the bank was robbed from. It was an old building that used to be a real hideout for criminals. Then the police found out about it. Ever since, only an idiot would go there. Or so the police thought. I knew it was someone cunning, someone with a brain. That meant seven and a half thousand was too damn low.

Rain was coming down hard, flooding Detroit's night streets. It wasn't a pretty sight to see, but then again, neither was the area of town I was in.

I went up to the building, not really something I wished to do. It smelled like three-day-old meatloaf.

I went inside and went up to the top of the steps. There was nothing there but a door, which had a blue light glowing from the other side like a neon light.

I made myself inconspicuous, and entered.

"Anyone here?"
"Yeah. Who are you?"
"Just someone who needs a place for the night. I got lost, I'm from Boston."
"...Are you a cop? Gumshoe? Fed?"
"No. I just own a small restaurant."
"Oh. Well, come in."
"Nice place you have here. Some heavy duty hardware for computers..."
"Yeah. I just pulled off a big job with these."
"What kind of job?"
"That's private."
"C'mon, tell me! I'm not gonna rat you out if it's illegal, I've done illegal things m'self."
"Like what?"
"Well, the whole Eastern United States is under Prohibition, Pennsylvania to Maine. I'm a bootlegger."
"Well then, I feel safe knowing that. I pulled a huge bank heist."
"Wow... no security problems?"
"Nope. Pulled it off from here."
"How?"
"Computer hacking and advanced technology."
"Amazing."
"Well, grab the bed, lay down. You can stay the night, but any longer and I'll make you rent it."
"Yeah yeah, sure thing."

This was good. I had him where I wanted him. But I couldn't let on. This cherade was working perfectly, and all I had to do was keep it up until tomorrow morning...I just was thankful he had only half a brain and no common sense. He was going around with his safety on…