I awoke in a back alley filled with more trash than your average popular music station. My head clanged like the Vatican on Christmas Eve, and I put a hand to it in an effort to stop my bells from ringing. Grumbling, I shook my head. Finding my hat, I put it on my head, and stood up. It wasn’t the first time I had been punched out and ditched in an alley, but it was the first time in broad daylight. Why didn’t anybody help me?
“Jerks,” I said, grumbling and groggy. Putting a hand on the red, rough bricks to my left in order to steady myself, I saw a large, folded piece of paper laying in front of me in a puddle. Although most of the ink had blotted away in the continuing rain, (I was a likely candidate for hypothermia) I could still read a few words.
“No hard feelings, just felt…” here it got blotchy and unreadable, but the jist of the note was Eddy just wanted to punch me in the face. Couldn’t blame him, lord knows I feel that way about a couple ‘a mugs about town. “…man you’re looking for is Everett Donning. Best of luck!”
I looked at the paper. Eddy apparently had tracked down the man who had bought the ring. More than that, he had known who it was. More more than that, he had known I was on the case, and looking for the same man. Slowly lowering the paper, I spoke in a hushed whisper, “Eddy is a waaay better detective than me.”