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Now that had me downright spooked and I’ll tell you why.  My grandmother’s given name was Teleathia Enzio, but everyone knew her as Madame Teelah; the weird Italian lady with the crystal ball.  That little moniker was embarrassing for me as a child, but I later realized my grandmother must have been dynamite.  She charged $110.00 an  hour and people flocked to her by the droves.  So I guess it should have been no surprise for her to speak from the grave like she did, but I was still shook up behind it.  I eventually got over that little biscuit, but then I met Stormy Weather and my whole life changed.

It was back in July of ‘61 when my wife Emily and I relocated from New York to Florida.  I was a hot-shot journalist back then, a handsome young upstart the boss liked a lot.  But so did his wife and the two of us were eventually caught.  I was allowed to live, as long as I promised to quit the job and leave town.  So I moved post haste.  My wife and I bought a small house just outside of town, and I got a desk job at the local precinct in the homicide unit.  I wasn’t a hot-shot anymore, just a pencil pusher.  But it paid the bills.

Of course I didn’t divulge the reason I’d moved there and taken such a drastic cut in pay, even though I was grilled like a steak by the stuffed shirt who interviewed me.  I  was hired on anyway and got along pretty well with all the guys, despite the fact that we had this grumpy goliath named Dil “The Devil” Forbes as our chief.

Now I don’t usually talk about a man’s looks because we’re all children of God, but the best way to describe him was a wad of ground beef under a wig.  The fact that he was trying to stop smoking and scowled all the time didn’t help him either, but I guess his looks paid off because most folks were scared of him.

Of course we still had our share of petty crime, but things were basically peaceful.  That was until a real problem crept in and Forbes proved to be no more adept than Barney Fife with his harmless gun.  Waitresses from local nightclubs were being found strangled with a soiled necktie, and it was evident Forbes had no idea where to start.

I know now I should have kept my mouth shut, but you know how it is when you’re young and full of …er,uh…wisdom.  I had the gall to ask Forbes why he didn’t just hire a homicide expert.  That’s when I learned why they called him The Devil.

After turning a least five different shades of red he said he’d hired a know-it-all already, and that one needed to shut up and count his blessings.

I don’t think old Forbes liked me very much.  He never spoke and couldn’t pronounce my name to save his soul, but I guess he still had a right to his opinion.  Only the way I see it a man has blessings on one hand, problems on the other and needed to count both. 

In my world the blessings were my lovely wife Emily (and since I couldn’t seem to do without a spare) my mistress Adora and my job.  But then there were the problems, which again were my lovely wife Emily, my mistress Adora and my job.

Emily was a budding yet successful romance novelist, the classy type you were proud to call your wife.  Yet although her plots were as steamy as possible back then, she aroused no more desire in me than a two-hour thesis on warts.  That’s where Adora came in.

She cursed like a man, drank like a fish, was no where near as pretty as Emily, money-hungry and downright crude. 

But when it came to pure wanton lust a man couldn’t ask for more; Adora stopped at nothing.  Why did I even fool with her?  Well as I’ve said before I was so full of smarts back then, I ujust figured good girls like Emily didn’t romp in the hay like Adora’s kind.  But back to my story.

Althought the pay was a joke I liked my job just fine until this shifty-eyed new hrie named Ben Leggs came along.  He didn’t throw his weight around or anything, but for some reason Leggs gave me the creeps and I couldn’t stand to be near him.  Maybe it was because his grimy nails were over an inch long and yellow.  Or maybe it was because he slicked his dirty graying hair back like an aging vampire, had a terrible odor, wore filthy clothing and couldn't spell worth a damn.  He also avoided eye contact which made me not trust him, but the boss loved him and kept him cooped up in his office.  They say it was because he started giving Forbes information on the murders, which caused him to get a hefty raise and old meat-face’s undivided attention.  That’s why I was so shocked the day Forbes came to my office one morning asking for help.