Detective story

Things were bad on Wall Street but the streets… much worse. People gathering on lines for free food and drinks. I’ve seen crazy things in my day but this takes the cake. Millions of people out ofwork including my kid sister Deborah. There were many like her, with kids, living in run down apartments with no income. To make matters worse how’s one supposed to get a drink when our great country ofours puts a ban on the finest substance known to man.
Yea things were bad. So where do I stand in all this you ask, they call me Richie Bloom Private Investigator or P.I. for short. I spend my dayslooking for anyone from cheating spouses to thieves or anyone who doesn’t want to be found. I’m not as famous as you may think. I work on referrals you see, when someone needs a job done that meansbending the rules a little, they call me.
Unlike most P.I.’s I’m not afraid of getting my hands dirty… especially when it pays the bills. I’ve done it all from blackmail to undercover work. This alsokeeps me familiar with the cities underground racquets from high stake poker games to illegal bars and casinos.
Which brings me to where I am now, hiding out after becoming a little too familiarwith my mark. See I was requested by police commissioner Kelly to find out who was in charge of the moonshine being smuggled into the city. I usually never worked with the police for my methods forgetting the job done could easily be misconstrued, but in this case I had a few strikes I needed gone. My objective was to figure out who was stealing the trucks and smuggling in the booze.
First place Ineeded to go was where everyone went to get information… Mickey’s barbershop aka the stoolie hangout. This was the place where everyone talked about each other’s business.
“Which one of you fellascould trim me up real quick” I said “sit down and take a load off” he yelled.
As if things couldn’t get any easier “is there anymore of the hootch what’s his face dropped off”
“who Ricky?, yea…...