Hard Boiled

I am writing some hard boiled private detective fiction for my pasty anthology. Its going to be one of them illustrated stories, i am quite pleased with the start of it so far.. what do you think?

Devil in a Blue Tabard

It was hot, too hot.

Even the pigeons had given up chewing expectantly at the discarded fag ends and chewing gum from last nights revellers in the forlorn hope they might have suddenly turned into food.

But I was still hungry. I had a sick knawing feeling at the bottom of my stomach, maybe it was fear of what ‘Weepy’ Arkwright would do to me if I failed to find his missing dame, or maybe it was because I hadn’t eaten a thing since last night at Abra-kebab-ra. And that seemed a lifetime ago now. I should never have took this job on, but they were going to stop my Jobseekers Allowance and put me on a re-training scheme. Times were hard.

I paused to look at my watch by the stone elephants. It was broke. I cursed my no-good father who had given me the watch in his will. It had never told good time. I flung the cheap Casio from my arm into a handy wastebin. My eyes lifted upwards and I gazed at the clock high up on the town hall. Not too shabby, Greggs the Bakers would soon be open and I could eat. I patted the trunk of the nearest elephant ‘You and me kid’ I said ‘If you weren’t a piece of stone pavement furniture, we could’ve been pals’.

I sat on the town hall steps and lit my thirtieth cigarette of the day. The heavy metal shutters on the front of Greggs began to slowly lift. ‘I wonder what they are guarding against’ I ruminated, ‘Hordes of starving drunks, perhaps’ I threw my cigarette butt to the floor and crushed it beneath my cheap spats. I noticed with dismay the sole was starting to fall off. ‘We’ve all seen better days…’ I muttered.