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    Lee Hacklyn 1970s Private Investigator in Hate Watchers: Lee Hacklyn, #1
    Lee Hacklyn 1970s Private Investigator in Hate Watchers: Lee Hacklyn, #1
    Lee Hacklyn 1970s Private Investigator in Hate Watchers: Lee Hacklyn, #1
    Ebook47 pages26 minutes

    Lee Hacklyn 1970s Private Investigator in Hate Watchers: Lee Hacklyn, #1

    By John Leister

    ()

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    About this ebook

    New York City. 1975.

     

    Lee is hired to investigate the Enter-Fit/Exit-Fat Health Clinic,

    located in Flushing, of course,

    where patient Oscar Cartwright died from a heart attack.

    His brother, Oliver, is convinced that foul play was involved.

     

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJohn Leister
    Release dateAug 5, 2023
    ISBN9798223210221
    Lee Hacklyn 1970s Private Investigator in Hate Watchers: Lee Hacklyn, #1

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      Book preview

      Lee Hacklyn 1970s Private Investigator in Hate Watchers - John Leister

      CHAPTER ONE

      While driving home from the office, described by some of my clients as a boiler room, a kindergarten cloakroom, and most memorably, for me, anyway, by my dearly departed mother as a dumping ground, this happened:

      Whiskers!  Dinner’s ready!  Bad girl!  Aren’t you hungry?  Are you going to stay up there forever?

      I pulled over.

      It was around six pm and a girl of around eight was trying to coax a calico cat down from a tree branch.

      What seems to be the trouble, miss?

      Mom taught me not to talk to strangers.

      Well, she’s right.  I think I can get Whiskers down safely for you, if you like.

      Would you please?

      I began to climb.

      Ow, sliver.

      Ow, sliver.

      Whiskers dug her claws into the branch and hissed at me.

      Hi, Whiskers!  I had a calico cat, just like you when I was a kid.  My sister flattened him during her first driving lesson.  I’m pretty sure it was an accident.

      Hiss.

      So much for small talk.

      She lashed out and tagged my face with razor-sharp claws.

      It’s fine.

      I had some Bactine at home.  Did I?

      I grabbed Whiskers and leapt to a patch of grass.  She ran into the little girl’s arms and I scraped some dog or cat poo from the bottom of my Adidas running shoe.

      Thanks, mister!

      Sure thing.  Can I use that garden hose?

      Okay!

      Whiskers hissed at me one more time. The little girl scampered up the stairs and inside her house.

      I hosed off my shoe, took it off and gave it the smell test.

      Good enough.

      CHAPTER TWO

      Three blocks later.

      Jump, jump!

      I espied a crowd of twenty or so of New York’s warmest and most compassionate citizens encouraging a man who was standing on the roof of an apartment building, maybe ten stories high, to jump to his death.

      There were no authorities present and I didn’t hear any sirens.

      I saw three pay phones.  They were all out of order and there was no time to change into my red and blue suit.

      I pushed through the crazed crowd.

      Excuse me!

      The front door was propped open.

      I saw an elderly woman, smoking, on the

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