Hank Conan Episode 2

Hank Conan Episode 3
Hank Conan Episode 4
Hank Conan Episode 5
Hank Conan Episode 6

 

Things have been pretty quiet for several weeks now: I’m beginning to suspect that making the office telephone number ex-directory, to keep my identity a secret from the ‘mob’, was a mistake. A lot of my cases and contacts have dried ... they’re keeping my bank account company.

Let me tell you about a recent case, though.

I was still recovering from the ‘night before’ as I made my way down to breakfast. Opening the fridge door all I found was a note from the grocer telling me that the contents had been put on ice until I paid my dues. Hell, I hate eating on an empty stomach anyway!

I made my way towards the drinks’ cabinet in the lounge. I was just passing the front door when my keenly trained ears picked up the sound of a size 9 split grain leather upper with an EVA mid-sole and vinyl-welded vulcanised sole and heel hitting the sidewalk outside ииии one, two, three! I ducked and spun into a Crouch.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Crouch,” I murmured as I helped my old landlady to her feet. “I didn’t see you there.”

I shielded her frail frame from the hot lead that any second could come searing through the front door, blasting it into a fury of spear-like shards and ripping lumps of bloodied flesh from her violently convulsing body as the bullets ricochetted off splintered bone and tore gaping exit wounds in her crimson-flayed torso before a Maelstrom of offal hit the wall behind her with a sound like wet liver slapping concrete..........................

 

Excuse me a moment.........................

 

 

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