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<blockquote data-quote="Memnoch3434" data-source="post: 6005962" data-attributes="member: 6676476"><p><strong>Act 0: Scene 3</strong></p><p></p><p>Lance Caine sat in his office with his legs on the desk, reading the newspaper. <em>Capone's gang suspected in Valentine's Day Massacre...what children.</em> The knock at the door would have alarmed most men, but Caine looked like he was expecting it.</p><p></p><p>"Come in," Caine said coldly.</p><p></p><p>"Lance Caine? The private investigator?" A fairly attractive woman tip-toed in the room and shut the door quietly.</p><p></p><p><em>Fan-<img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" /><img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" /><img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" /><img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" />ing-tastic an illiterate trophy wife looking to see if her husband is cheating. If she can't even read the door, I don't blame him.</em></p><p></p><p>"Yes. How can I help you?"</p><p></p><p>"It's my daughter..." she began to weep.</p><p></p><p><em>Even worse a flapper case? Some floozy who probably ran off with a random Tom.</em></p><p></p><p>"Miss? I can't help you unless I know what happened." His arm went across her shoulders. His voice was quiet and sensitive and he lent her a tissue. "Please, you can tell me." The mask his face wore was was as kind and sincere as a priest. The disdain in his mind was invisible.</p><p></p><p>"You are so kind Mr. Caine..."</p><p></p><p>"Please, Lance."</p><p></p><p>"Well Lance, you see my daughter was..." She began sobbing. "Murdered!....found.....yesterday......" If she wouldn't have hugged him his eyes would have gave him away. The surprise on his face was immense. <em>A real case? No more chasing deadbeat husbands?</em>. He regained his composure. He gently took her hands away from him.</p><p></p><p>"Ma'am this sounds a bit like a matter for the police, shouldn't you be contacting them?" He didn't need the pigs breathing down his neck.</p><p></p><p>"Ha! The police?! My husband trusts those criminals but they are no better than mob thugs to me!" Though tears were running down her face, it was questionable if they were tears of rage or sorrow now. "The only way to get loyalty is with money. The heavy briefcase slammed onto his desk. "This is 5000 dollars in 5$ bills. If you tell me about the progress you made on your case, and I am happy with it I will give you 10,000. If you catch my Helen's killer I will give you an additional 20,000."</p><p></p><p>Lance Caine's face truly did read surprise now. All he could muster was "I think we can do some business Mrs. ?"</p><p></p><p>"My name is Elaine Barton."</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Memnoch3434, post: 6005962, member: 6676476"] [b]Act 0: Scene 3[/b] Lance Caine sat in his office with his legs on the desk, reading the newspaper. [I]Capone's gang suspected in Valentine's Day Massacre...what children.[/I] The knock at the door would have alarmed most men, but Caine looked like he was expecting it. "Come in," Caine said coldly. "Lance Caine? The private investigator?" A fairly attractive woman tip-toed in the room and shut the door quietly. [I]Fan-:):):):)ing-tastic an illiterate trophy wife looking to see if her husband is cheating. If she can't even read the door, I don't blame him.[/I] "Yes. How can I help you?" "It's my daughter..." she began to weep. [I]Even worse a flapper case? Some floozy who probably ran off with a random Tom.[/I] "Miss? I can't help you unless I know what happened." His arm went across her shoulders. His voice was quiet and sensitive and he lent her a tissue. "Please, you can tell me." The mask his face wore was was as kind and sincere as a priest. The disdain in his mind was invisible. "You are so kind Mr. Caine..." "Please, Lance." "Well Lance, you see my daughter was..." She began sobbing. "Murdered!....found.....yesterday......" If she wouldn't have hugged him his eyes would have gave him away. The surprise on his face was immense. [I]A real case? No more chasing deadbeat husbands?[/I]. He regained his composure. He gently took her hands away from him. "Ma'am this sounds a bit like a matter for the police, shouldn't you be contacting them?" He didn't need the pigs breathing down his neck. "Ha! The police?! My husband trusts those criminals but they are no better than mob thugs to me!" Though tears were running down her face, it was questionable if they were tears of rage or sorrow now. "The only way to get loyalty is with money. The heavy briefcase slammed onto his desk. "This is 5000 dollars in 5$ bills. If you tell me about the progress you made on your case, and I am happy with it I will give you 10,000. If you catch my Helen's killer I will give you an additional 20,000." Lance Caine's face truly did read surprise now. All he could muster was "I think we can do some business Mrs. ?" "My name is Elaine Barton." [/QUOTE]
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