The White Widow

It was a damp dark night and a light drizzle of rain ran down the outside of the office windows as I sat at my desk filling out paper work. For some reason I put down my pencil and sat back and listened to the unusual silence of the night.

An uneasiness came over me as I got up and walked over to the bar and pulled a cigar from the humidor. I clipped the end and then with a silver lighter from my pocket lit it up slowly turning the cigar as I drew in. Puffs of blue grey smoke filled the air as I blew out. With the cigar hanging from my lips, I then reached for a glass and poured myself a shot of scotch from the decanter.

With scotch and cigar in hand I wandered back over to the window and pulled down one of the blinds with a finger and stared out into the blackness. It was too quiet and I had a gut feeling it would not be long before my phone would ring and another case would fall onto my lap. This shit hole of a city with it's nooks and crannies and gutters filled with the scum of the earth. How the fuck I ever ended up a Private Detective in this place, God only knows.

On the other side of town in a dirty back alley under a pale street lamp a John was bending a gorgeous brunette Whore over the hood of his car. Her voluptuous breasts burst out of her thin white blouse soaked from the evening rain, while water dripped down her face as he pulled her hair back and spread her long legs apart with his feet and reached between her legs and tore her panties off.

How was I to know that one of them would soon be dead and I would be trying to solve one of the most erotically twisted cases I had yet to encounter.