A Message From a Friend

18 November 2011

8:49 p.m.

It was a short day, but it looks like a long night. Nights always are when spend them with your feet up on your desk, thinking through a case. I’ll go to sleep in the morning, same time the crooks do.

You don’t know me. Maybe you never will. After all, I keep a low profile. And I’m fictional. But that’s neither here nor there. The name’s D. B., and yes, I’m a private eye.

It’s not common for people in my line of work to send a letter to the masses like this. We try to keep as out-of-sight, like a stick of wood at a public campground; it’s the safest way to not get burned. But this life’s a capricious lover, and it’s hard to say when you’re going to part ways. So I’m going to reveal bits and pieces of my gumshoeing career to you, the public, that way it can serve as a warning to neer-do-wells everywhere even after I’m gone.

Why is a letter from like me on the blog of a respectable enough college student? I know that’s what you’re wondering. I’ll say only this for now: when you ask someone to “let you know if there’s anything you can do for them”, there’s a chance that years later they’ll think of something. There’s an even smaller chance that they’ll then call you up at 2:00 a.m. and subject you to a series of vetting questions, then arrange to drop off letters for publication at inconspicuous locations. It’s unlikely, yes, but there you go. Sometimes strange things happen, kid.

Gabe did raise the concern that people might have trouble distinguishing between his own posts and my humble contributions. Well, anybody smarter than the floor they’re standing on should be able to immediately recognize that my cooler tone of voice–you could say that my words have more of a five o’clock shadow to them. Anybody else can watch for the different fonts.

It’s still night. Maybe I’ll go for a walk and stare at the neon sign of the Blue Line Café. The biggest P.I.’s have nice office space in dilapidated old buildings, and can see flickering neon right from where they sit with their feet on the desk. I’ve been doing this a while, but not long enough yet to have that luxury. For now, I’ll stick to what I’ve got, and send out occasional updates about my investigations to this website, which Gabe assures me is read by thousands every day.

D.B