George Hamilton Private Eye: A Tight fit
Chapter two: An Enlightening Night
"Well, after she left I wasn't able to think of anything else, but her and her case. I figured I'd get right on the case, calling some people who I knew would know something about her missing heir loom."
George reached for his phone and picked up the receiver, while thumbing through some pages in his "little black book". He drug his index finger down the list of names, stopping on one of the informants, who always knew the underground info.
"Ben? This is George, I need a favor.
"Ben was a reporter by profession and a squealer by trade. He was one of the reporters for Raccoon's biggest tabloid papers, but if you could grease this rat's wheel he'd tell you anything you wanted to know. I was playing on that knowledge now."
"George! How ya been? Hey, what do you need?"
"Ben's voice was a little too cheery for my liking, he'd probably been hitting the rum again. I needed him sober and competent for what the info I needed. I decided I'd go down to Jay's bar, where he'd be and sober him up myself."
"Ben, you at Jay's?"
"Yeah, you -hick- coming down here?"
"Yeah, I'll be down in two shakes." George hung up the phone and pulled on his hazel trench coat. Before he left, he slipped his gun into his pocket.
It was a quick trip down the stairs of his third story office building, which he rented from a conniving landlord. As he left the building, he ran to the side of the street, just in time to get splashed by a taxi driving too close to the sidewalk.
"This night was already starting out on a bad note. I was starting to think that seeing Ben tonight might not be such a good idea. I shook of that bad feeling and hailed a cab."
The taxi rolled slowly to a stop right in front of George. He opened the door and sat down on the uncomfortable cloth seat. "Jay's bar please, and step on it."
The taxi driver gave a grunt and sped down the street. A few blocks and a few unanswered conversation starters late, the taxi stopped at Jay's bar. George handed the man five dollars and told him to keep the change.
"After that cab ride I was ready to do whatever was necessary to get the info from Ben, even if it meant I had to sober that moron up."
George pushed open the door and walked into the bar. He just barely heard the barkeep say something about a "weird customer", but he wasn't listening. His eyes fell right on Ben, who was groping at a nearby waitress. Sighing, George made his way through the crowd to where Ben was sitting.
As George sat down across from Ben in one of those barrel tables, Ben shouted in a drunken joy.
"George! Howyabeen? You know, y…you're one of the nicest guys I've ev…ever known. You come ALLLL the way down here, just to see me."
"Calm down Ben, you're not that special, I need some info about a missing heir loom. I think you're just the guy I need to see." George inched his bar stool closer to Ben when Ben beckoned him closer. "Alright, look I'm looking for any info you got on a missing-"
Before George could finish what he was going to say, Ben violently, vomited right next to George. "Aw sonofa…" George rolled his eyes and backed away. He grabbed Ben by his collar and led him to the bathroom quickly. Inside it was empty, George opened a stall and pushed Ben inside, who proceeded to vomit into the toilet. While Ben was occupied with the toilet, George looked under each of the stalls to look for anyone that might be in the room with them. Before returning to Ben, George bolted the bathroom door shut.
By the time George made his way back to Ben, Ben was in dry heaves. George once again grabbed Ben by his collar, turned on the faucet, and shoved his head under the ice cold water. Ben let out a fury of moans and struggled to free himself of George's grip, to no avail.
"Look Ben, I'm gettin' this info one way or another, so you better sober up quickly." George said as he shut off the faucet and pulled Ben's head out of the sink. "Here," George threw the folder on the floor next to Ben.
"Oh, Dear God George," Ben said as loud as he could muster. "Why, would you make me look at those?"
"Ben, I need to know whatever you can tell me about that, I need to know where it is or who I can talk to that might know where it is."
"Look George, I'd like to help you, but this is a bit over my head."
"I knew what Ben was doing, this was the same old routine we always do, he'd hold out on some info I needed, then I'd drop a bunch of bills in front of him, he'd talk and I'd leave."
George pulled out a manila envelope and threw it on the floor next to Ben. "Now is it still over your head?"
Ben took the envelope and counted the money inside. "Well, I might know something. I don't know where you can find it, but I think I might know someone who can point you in the right direction."
"It's a start, who?" George crouched close to Ben.
"You need to ask, Ry-" Behind them, a stall banged open and two pops followed. Blood shot out of Ben's chest as two fresh holes were made in the middle of his sternum. George instinctively dove away from where he was sitting. Two more pops, and two holes were created in the wall where George had been. George rolled to his feet with his gun in hand, to see a skinny man diving through the opened bathroom window.
George ran over to the window, to see the man already halfway down the next block. George shook his head in frustration as he put his gun away and turned back to the now dead Ben.
"I should have known my rotten luck would've come up this night. I at least had something I could work off of, a partial name Ry-something. I would have to work off of that for now, but if all of my informants ended up dying like this, then I wouldn't have a leg to stand on."
George unlocked the bathroom and walked out of the bar without making a noise. As he walked out of the bar he made his way to the curb and hailed a cab again.
"As I got into that cab I realized that this may not be as easy a case as I had thought."