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Jack Kasser P.I.
The name’s Jack Kasser, P.I. and there’s a 1,000,000 palookas in the big city tonight. My job’s to keep the punks and low life jerks in line....Hopefully, they don’t
bother me about the half of ‘em.
Business was slow as usual that night; probably due to the fact that I had a sign nailed to the door that said, go away. It was around six or somethin’ and I was pretty drunk. I was layin’ in my chair, hangin’ out with my old pal Jack Daniels when someone knocked at the door. I opened it with caution, clutchin’ my
nine-millimeter. I remembered all the times I’ve opened the door to find an ex-con I’ve sent to the slammer before with a Smith & Wesson in his grubby meat hooks and his crony with a lead filled louisville slugger. I was relieved to find nothin’ more
than old man in a trench coat. “Watcha want old timer?” I asked him.
“It’s about my nephew Mr. Kasser,” he said.
Reality suddenly hit me like a Long Island ice tea. Or maybe it actually was a Long Island ice tea; it’s hard to remember exactly what happened. It was the playboy millionaire, owner of ‘Black’s, Fine Whisky:’ James Black.
His business with me couldn’t have come at a better time. My land lord would evict me from my joint if I didn’t pay up by the end of this week. I would’ve been evicted last week if hadn’t of kidnapped his cat-. Black looked serious and would probably pay me a pretty penny for my services.
“My nephew has been kidnapped, his name is Jacob Vinton. Jake to his
friends. Have you by any chance heard of him before?”
Didn’t know who in the heck this guy was, but I like to be known as a man
who had information. “Of course! Who in this burg doesn’t know good ol’
“Um . . . it’s Vinton,” Black corrected, fiddling with the buttons of his trench
“Yeah that’s it,” I said feeling stupid. I sat down in my comfy leather chair
and propped my legs up on the desk. I took two shot glasses and a bottle of bourbon
out, I poured Mr. Black and I a glass. I downed another four shots of bourbon before
he spoke again.
“My nephew is a famous food critic for the Rocky Mountain news. He writes
reports on a lot of restaurants. The police have not been too helpful on this case so I
decided to hire you; a private investigator.
“I am a very rich man Mr. Kasser, but I believe in saving money. The
criminals that have kidnapped my nephew instructed me to pay them the sum of 2
million dollars, which I’ve paid. Yet these men wish for me to pay the ransom twice.
I am a man who doesn’t believe in paying for the same thing more than once, even if
my nephew’s life is at stake. I want you to bring the men who did this to justice. I
have no idea why they would kidnap him,” Black explained to me.
“Gee, that’s a hard one....” I whispered pouring myself another shot.
I accepted the case and Black left.
It was around seven and I was down stairs in the police station, cleaning out
the excess booze from my system in the restroom. I thought about the case and the
few clues I had. It was pretty obvious why restaurants didn’t like this guy. He
probably wrote too many bad reports and the restaurants told ‘im to quit. He refuses
and doesn’t let up on the articles. They begin to threaten him by sayin’ that they’re
gonna black ball ‘im from their restaurants, he still doesn’t quit. Next thing ya know,
he winds up with a cut break line and a toilet bomb but is too afraid to tell the cops.
So he goes to his good ol’ uncle James Black. Then Vinton disappears and they
leave Black a ransom note. The cops are no help so Black hires me to find out who
pulled the job and why. Unfortunately, those were the only clues I had.
I finished my business and flushed the toilet. I was about to leave the station
to do some blind investigatin’ when I ran into my old partner, Marcus Comeau.
“Hey Jack, wasn’t that James Black you talked to?” Comeau asked. He was
also a whisky addict.
Not wantin’ him to muscle in on my investigation, I acted like I knew
nothin’. “Maybe it was, and maybe it wasn’t. What’s it to you Marcus?”
He frowned and said, “don’t be such a wise guy Kasser, I want nothin’ to do
with whatever case you might be workin’ on. I’m just warnin’ ya it could be a
dangerous investigation.” He sighed and pulled a pack of Altoids and popped three
into his mouth.
I eyed him closely, lighting a match. I lit a Marlboro and said
to ‘im, “what, you my guardian angel alla sudden? I’m a grown man I can take care
Comeau looked at my pants and said with a quizzical look, “did you know
your pants on backwards?”
Dumbstruck, I looked at my pants and did see they were on backwards. I
ground my teeth together and inhaled the cancerous smoke of my cigarette. With
dignity I looked at him strait in the eye ‘n’ lied through my teeth. “Course I knew!
What, you think I’m some sort of a dummy?”
Comeau chuckled and popped another Altoid into his mouth. “Watch yaself
Jack,” he said walkin’ back into the station.
I was completely stuck, and had a very limited amount of clues. Naturally,
detectives like me always have a dependable back-up weasel with valuable info. So I
decided to take a trip down to Colorado Blvd. to visit Taylor ‘the rat’ Peper.
I drove down to the local Nicky D’s down in Denver. Petty thugs and
criminals often show up to pick up a BigNic and a coke. I entered and went up to
the service counter and saw ‘im takin’ an order from some elderly gent with a cane.
He saw me and froze like the coward he is.
I walked up to ‘im and gave ‘im a little smile. “Hello Taylor. I’d like a gossip
Nicflury with some of those information M&M’s on top. Who Kidnapped Jacob
He began to sweat bullets and he nervously stuttered, “ I, I, I don’t kn-know
whatcha mean he, he.... We don’t h-have any of th-th-those Jack....”
I grabbed ‘im by the collar and pulled ‘im so close he was an inch away from
my face. The customers became alarmed and backed away from the service counter.
I frowned and said, “If you’re havin’ trouble with the ice cream Peper, I can handle
the flurryin’ for ya.”
“P-P-Please Jack, You’re gonna get me fired! I don’t know anythin’ about
Vinton, you know I got out of that business ages ago.”
I put him in a head-lock and began to tickle his nose with a piece of string
from my pocket. He wriggled around like a pitiful worm, but couldn’t get free. He
began to scream and tried to pry my fingers apart. He finally couldn’t take any more
and spilled his yellow guts to me. “All right, all right! I Quit, I-I’ll tell ya anything!”
I let the weasel go, his face looked red and haggard. He rubbed his nose and
pulled me near. Peper whispered, “don’t tell anyone you heard this from me, but I
heard this Vinton guy’s job has something to do with food!”
I stared at ‘im in disbelief grinding my teeth together, he stared back. I
clutched the counter and shouted at ‘im, “THAT’S YOUR GOSSIP!? I already
knew that! Everybody already knew that!”
He rubbed his nose again and yelled in despair, “cripes Jack! Whatdya
expect? Would you entrust valuable information to a man named Taylor the ‘rat’
Peper? Nobody tells me anthin’ anymore! My own mother wont talk to me.”
Peper got me no where, and once again I was stuck. I dunked ‘im in the
public garbage can for good measure. I was on my way out when someone
addressed my name..... or at least tried. “Um, Mr. Gasser?”
I muttered angrily under my breath, “It’s Kasser,” and turned around. A
one-eyed dame with bulgin’ braces and blonde hair had said it. The button on her
work shirt said: Breanna Wise, Manager. “Whatcha want doll-face?”
She pursed her lips in a funny way and said, “don’t call me doll-face. I just
wanted you to know, that I know more than what my employee does about Mr.
Vinton. I believe you will receive all the answers you need If you visit this place.”
She wrote an address in long-hand cursive on a yellow sticky pad sheet and handed
it to me. I could’ve kissed her, this was a major break through. “I would come and
help you but I just got my braces put on and they tend to hook on to my lips.”
The address was on Mississippi in Aurora. As I was walkin’ out the door, I
heard from behind me, “Ah nuts! Amanda helf me, my wips are stuck again!”
When I arrived to the place, it turned out to be a flaky lookin’ Japanese
restaurant named: The Bamboo Buffet. The place seemed deserted. I walked up to
the front door and tried to open it. It was locked, figures. My eyes strayed to the flier
box filled with menus. What harm would it do to take a gander? I began to read it.
“What in the heck is a yushan beef--Ack!” I was suddenly knocked cold.
When I came to, I was in the kitchen. I rubbed my achin’ head, it felt as if I
had been smacked with a month old piece of teriyaki chicken.... Which ironically
was a month old piece of teriyaki chicken, being held in the hand of none other
“What a pity Mr. Gasser that you did arrive here,” She said, holding a black
suit case in her left hand and holding a large silver revolver in the other. I grabbed
for my nine to bust a cap but it was gone. Enable to fight, I decided to ask some
questions. “So it was you who’s been tryin’ to whack Jacob Vinton. Why?”
“What, you mean this pathetic piece of scum?” She scooted her chair to the
side and I for the first time, I got to see Jake. He was a bound and gagged little man
with polka-dotted boxers and eyes as wide as dinner plates filled with terror. “Vinton
was bad for my business. I started to go under due to his his reports, at first I paid
my hit men to kill him. But that’s when I found out that his uncle was rich.... so I
discovered it would be much more profitable if I held him for ransom.
“I would kill you right now, but I would rather not soil my hands. Besides, I
have a plane to catch, so I’ll leave it up to my trusting hired hit men to dispose of
I saw three men come from behind Wise, each holding a Louisville slugger. I
tell ya, they were gorillas! That weasel Wise slipped out the back door and her hairy,
hench men descended on me like white on rice or....um....somethin’ else of that
Wise’s ugly, hired goons were nothin’ me and a trusty fryin’-pan couldn’t
handle. I was smackin’ them silly with my pan, I had the situation under control
when all of a sudden.... “Freeze!” Comeau was standing in the kitchen doorway
holding a pump-action shotgun, with Wise at his feet, out cold with a bloody lump
on her head. Wise’s goons dropped their sluggers instantaneously.
“Hey that was some pretty good timin’! But how did you know I was here?
And how did you get Wise?”
With a smirk on his face he answered, “I paid a little visit to Taylor the ‘rat’
Peper. You were one of the few people stupid enough to tell him where you were
Comeau nudged Breanna with his foot and said, “When I got here, I saw this
broad leaving. She tried to pull a fast one on me when I approached her, so I
clubbed her with my shotgun.”
We untied Vinton and cuffed Wise and her goons. Vinton crawled away into
the corner and hugged his knees crying softly. I looked at Comeau and scratched my
chin, I asked ‘im, “Comeau.”
“I was wonderin’, would you find it immoral to take credit for a job if all of
the evidence just happened to be dumped right into your lap?”
He shrugged, popped an Altoid into his mouth and replied, “never crossed
Comeau called for back up and Breanna and her goons were takin’ away to
the stony lonesome, innocent until proven guilty. Vinton was questioned down at
the police station and was escorted home. He still looked pretty pale. And the 2 million was given back to Black, minus 10 grand for a good nights work.
Meanwhile, I still live in palookaville and I still have 1,000,000 noisy
neighbors. And as long as a hand full of ‘em are still punks with no tolerance for the
law, I’ll be in over my head with work.... because I’m Jack Kasser, P.I.