Man Tries to Destroy Cracked, Receives Swift Justice (7 Years Later)
"I never had a chance."
It just got extremely fucking noir-y up in here.
My detective agency was hired by the United States government after the anthrax attacks on Brokaw and Daschle to get to the bottom of this mystery. Why the government decided to put this case in the hands of a gritty, small-time, totally cliché detective agency instead of, say, the FBI or the army or scientists, is anyone's guess. The point was, the case was
How is it raining inside the office?
And we did. James and I, (I refuse to call him 'Tacos'), were a tenacious pair of detectives. We weren't afraid to bang down doors, even if it meant getting our hands dirty. "This door is filthy," I recall James saying one morning. And it was, but we banged on it anyway, getting the dirt all over our hands. Even after he washed them, James couldn't stop smelling his hands all day, that's how dirty the door was. I remember meeting Bruce Ivins. There was nothing remarkable about his door. It wasn't as dirty as the dirtiest door we ever banged on, but
Bruce Ivins as I remember him.
Like eggs. Most cake recipes call for eggs.
.
Chuck Noirish.