The Private Investigator
People outside the nightclub bounced to the beat1 while waiting for the doorman to let them in. The PI wasn’t out for the nightlife though and carried on walking.
The lady that had hired him was angry. She knew her husband was cheating, but she could never figure out with who. She had steely, grey eyes that froze the PI like a statue2 when she stared at him. He had struggled to speak around her, even agreeing to do this job for less than his normal rate.
He had to complete the job quickly and quietly. The PI found out where the husband liked to stay when he was “away on business trips”. Had dropped3 a c-note to get that bit of information.
Now, he was walking past that nightclub. He’d have to take a shortcut through the park8—easy to get spun around9 at night while avoiding the riffraff that lived there—but it would all be worth it. Tonight, he got paid.