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THE PRIVATE EYE BOOKS
all begin with the hard-boiled hero in his down-at-heels office, sitting behind his
battered wooden desk, leaning back in his creaky swivel chair, his feet up (which
explains how the desk came to be so battered), a glass of whiskey in his hand, a
half-empty bottle on the blotter. Half-full, if you're an optimist. Across the desk from
him sits the client: female, of course; attractive, of course; disapproving, natch. She's
having a hard time getting to the point, and our hero is doing his macho best to ignore
her, focusing his attention on the spinning of a spider in a corner of the ceiling or
the buzzing of a blue-bottle fly against the dirty window. Eventually the flinty-eyed
protagonist will (a) get the client sufficiently ticked off to tell him what she's there
for or (b) get the client sufficiently ticked off to leave. Doesn't matter; the case will
come back around to him one way or the other. Trouble Follows Me, and so on.
Reprinted with permission
from Things Invisible
Copyright © 1989
by William J Reynolds
GP Putnam's Sons
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Bibliography
