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Gumshoe Casefiles: Case 133
Gumshoe Casefiles: Case 133
Gumshoe Casefiles: Case 133
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Gumshoe Casefiles: Case 133

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Half-assed PI, Frank Peterson, is on the case of a missing pair of statuettes, stolen from a corrupt politician (who knew such a thing existed?). He doesn't like art, especially when it's made of ivory, but he's all for pay-checks. Ideally big ones, with zeros on the end. Crap cars don't pay for themselves.

(Short story number two in the Gumshoe Casefiles series.)

LanguageEnglish
PublisherAdam Slade
Release dateJul 26, 2011
ISBN9781465712721
Gumshoe Casefiles: Case 133
Author

Adam Slade

The result of a caveman breeding with an ingot of un-distilled sarcasm, Adam Slade was always going to go places. Some days he even makes it as far as the kitchen. Adam is an author of fantasy and humour works, and when he's not writing, he's reading or goofing off on the Internet.

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    Book preview

    Gumshoe Casefiles - Adam Slade

    Gumshoe Casefiles

    Case 133: Felony & Ivory

    Adam Slade

    Published by Distillery Press

    www.distillerypress.com

    Copyright 2011, Adam Slade

    SMASHWORDS Edition

    Other titles by Adam Slade:

    A Reaper’s Tale

    A Grim Pact

    Strand

    Gumshoe Casefiles – Case 132: The Praying Mantis

    Case 133: Felony & Ivory

    An Introduction (Skip me if you’ve heard it all before.)

    My name is Frank Peterson. I’m as American as apple pie, and I run a small an unsuccessful private detective company.

    Actually, that’s a lie. My real name is Steven Doherty, I was born in Ireland, and I do more than enough business to keep me in cheap whiskey and run down cars. Let me explain.

    I moved to the states thirty years ago with one goal, to become a PI – that’s Private Investigator, in case you’re not too smart. My house back home sold for a fair whack, so I rented a clean and spacious office with a nice view and bought myself a shiny new car to go with it. This didn’t work.

    The public avoided me because they assumed I’d charge way too much, and the police didn’t want to know because I was too ‘high profile’. The few people who actually made it through the door were disappointed to find I was a friendly Irishman, and not the hard-bitten curmudgeon with a bad marriage and alcohol problem like they saw on the television. So I moved

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