When I rolled up to the Chief’s house, it was apparent the coppers had been there. They had yellow-taped the front door, the windows, and they even taped the chimney! I was like, what the fuck! Did they actually believe someone was going to try to get into the house through the chimney? They must be pretty damned scared of whatever they thought was in the Chief’s pad. That just made me all the more curious. Hopefully, I would find what the cops didn’t.
Not wanting to be observed by nosey neighbors, I thought I’d go around the back of the house. There, I would check to see if there was any point of entry the cops might have overlooked. I almost laughed out loud when I saw the back door to the house wide open. WTF! How incompetent can you be! Of course, I praised that incompetence at the same time. How lucky can a private dick get?
With a bit of trepidation, I stepped gingerly into the laundry room. Standing still for a moment, I heard nothing. Then, I moved (I would like to say on “cats paws”), but my feet are way too big for that. I stepped through a door that led me into the kitchen, noticing the sink was full of dishes. I knew the Chief was divorced. His wife had kicked his ass to the curb, and no one knew why, since all she claimed was irreconcilable differences. A grin broke out on my face. Could those irreconcilable differences be because he was tearing her pantyhose just one too many times? Or, did she just get so tired of fighting over who was going to wear what dress? I could hear a possible argument, “Where’s my dusky crimson lipstick? You wore it last, dammit!”
Upon entering what was apparently the living room, I found a mess. There were papers strewn all about. Someone had removed paintings from the walls, and their backs were all ripped out. My work was cut out for me for sure, but I was up to the challenge.