Lee Hacklyn 1980s Private Investigator in The King, The Queen, The Pawn and The Knight: Lee Hacklyn, #1

By John Leister

New York City. 1986.

 

New York State Governor Kevin Quartermain is the King.  His wife, Layla, is the Queen.

Monty Wallace, a mentally-challenged young man, wrongly convicted of murder,

is the Pawn.

Lee Hacklyn is the Knight.

Monty's father, Angus, has hired him to prove that his son is innocent,

and to break a conspiracy of silence that allows evil to run rampant.

• Language: English
• Publisher: John Leister
• Release date: May 26, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201798840

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Lee Hacklyn 1980s Private Investigator in The King, The Queen, The Pawn and The Knight

Lee Hacklyn 1980s Private Investigator

in

The King, The Queen, The Pawn and The Knight

by

John Leister

NEW YORK CITY.  1985.

CHAPTER ONE

Uncle Lee?  What’s it like to take a man’s life?  Is it satisfying?  Help me understand.

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire...so was I. 

My niece, Gretchen, was sixteen and wasn’t exactly enamored with the quote-unquote Establishment.  Whatever that is.  Good for her.  There’s nothing more charming than a teenager who knows more than anyone over the age of thirty.

As far as Christmas Eves go, this one was a bit of a bust for me, so far, other than the food, the abundance of beer and the company of my sister, Anne, and her husband, Geoff.

They were corporate lawyers, mega-wealthy and lived in a palace of a house in Forest Hills.

My partners, and friends, I guess, just kidding, Clint Courage and Sid Phelps, were on an Alaskan cruise with their moms, and Clint’s um, Executive Assistant, Cherry Pine.

The specter of political correctness rises!

Sid was madly in love with her, but wonder of wonders, she’d fallen for her boss, Clint.

When I saw them off, the other day, at New York Port, I noticed that there was some tension between them.  I didn’t like it.

Was Cherry Pine going to be my Yoko Ono?

CHAPTER TWO

I ate some duck and said, Ann, your fair daughter is picking a fight with me.

Ann was a strict vegetarian.  She said, while chewing on a piece of—barf!—broccoli, Gretchen?  Your Uncle Lee is a very brave man.  He puts life in harm’s way time and again to protect others.  Sometimes, he doesn’t even get paid to do it.  He just does it because it’s right.  You could learn a lot from him.  He’s nearly died more times than I can remember.  How about you show him a little respect?

Gretchen huffed and thundered, I have no respect for murderers!

A sixteen-year-old boy was sitting next to her.  I guess he was her boyfriend.  His name, what were his parents thinking, was Kent Clark.  He was handsome, with an athletic build.  His appearance was uber-80s:  A long-sleeved casual shirt with thick, vertical stripes, a black, skinny leather tie and curly blond hair with just the right amount of mousse.

Was he wearing eyeliner?  None of my business.  I tried not to stare.

He said, cleverly trying to steer the dinner conversation to something more fun, I thought, You know what I’m looking forward to in 1986?  Top Gun.  I saw the trailer the other day while watching Weird Science.  It’s about jets and it stars that guy from my favorite movie, Losin’ It.

An already fired up Gretchen dropped her knife and fork to her plate, where they clattered and she snarled, You saw Weird Science?  We were supposed to see that together this Saturday night.

Kent grinned—he was the spitting image of Dennis Quaid—and placatingly said, Oh, I forgot to tell you.  Dave had a free movie pass.  Oh, Lee.  Dave’s my little brother.  He’s a freshman and he works at the Funny Book Farm.  They get free passes all the time.  It was a last-minute thing, Gretchen.

She roared, I will never, ever speak to you again, Kent Clark!  You’re no Superman in the back seat, that’s for sure.  I can’t believe I lost it to you!  Mother-fucker!

She picked up her plate, tilted it, the food that was on it fell on Kent’s lap, then she used it like a hammer against his forehead.  The plate broke into two pieces.  She dropped the one she was holding, yelled, You made me break a nail, then ran from the dining room table, shrieking, and then, upstairs, where she slammed what I presumed was her bedroom door so hard I stabbed myself in the face with my fork.  Fortunately, no blood was drawn.  Kent was not so fortunate.

A trickle of blood ran down his face.

While squeezing a hunk of garlic bread, Geoff gave Kent the thousand-yard Dad-stare.

Quietly, he said, Kent?  Get out of my house before I kill you.  Lee, stay out of this.

I nodded and said, This is the best duck I’ve ever had.  In fact, I’m pretty sure this is the first duck I’ve ever had.  Dollars to doughnuts, it won’t be the last.

Lee Hacklyn, Master Conversationalist.

CHAPTER THREE

Ann wiped her mouth with a napkin, daintily and said, Stay where you are, Kent.  It’s Christmas and you’re our guest.  It’s just  a little cut.  Come on.  Our medicine cabinet is like a well-stocked pharmacy. 

While overtly avoiding Geoff’s penetrating stare, Ann took Kent to their restroom and closed the door.

Geoff said to me, Cigar later?

Sure.

You know, Lee, I’ve never regretted marrying Ann or raising Gretchen with her.  I love being a husband and I love being a father.  But sometimes, I really envy you.  Your freedom.

I ate some baked potato, grinned at him and said, The grass is always greener.

There’s something I want to talk to you about before you go.

Okay.

He whispered, I think Ann is having an affair.  And the other man is that fucking boy’s old man.

Christmas Day, I slept off the mother of all hangovers.

Boxing Day, I went to my office.  Around ten, while reading Son of the Mob Wrecker #25:  Vendetta in Venice, with my feet on my desk, I heard a man’s gruff voice, Ahem.

I took my feet off and put my book down.  Damn.  Just when the son of the Mob Wrecker was just about to smudge