Monthly Archives: April 2024

Humor, Noir

Boulder Noir: The Shadow Knows

Leave a comment

Walking back to his car Frank heard someone utter. “Psst Buddy” out of the shadows. Wow, his first case and his first “Psst” from the shadows all in the same week. Things were really shaping up.

Frank walked towards the shadow to investigate but he became a bit disoriented. It was 6 pm and the Sun was shining directly on the bare front of a building. There should not have been any shadow to hide anything. A faint shimmer passed in front of his eyes further perplexing him.

Just then he realized some time had passed since the “Psst” and he’d been standing directly in front of the shadow for quite a while and it seemed to be waiting for him to speak.

“I’m sorry I’m confused,” said Frank.

“There’s no shame in admitting reality,” replied the shadow.

Either this guy is obtuse by his very nature or he’s being a smart ass, thought Frank.

“Um, did you want to tell me something. The “Psst” you uttered indicated you did.”

“I overheard your conversation with the barman”

“Strange, I didn’t see you in there.”

“I was there none the less.”

“Ok, for the sake of moving this along let’s just say you were there.”

“Well I heard you were looking for someone that looks like this gentlemen.” said the shadow producing a picture of Steven Simpson.

Strange, thought Frank. No visible arms or hands.

“Yes I am looking for Steven Simpson. “

“This gentleman may not be Steven Simpson. Steven Simpson has a doppelgänger.

Are you familiar with the term?”

“Yes. It’s some German word for a person who looks like someone else.”

“In a nutshell yes.”

“So I need to just find the other guy.”

“Well, one of the other guys.”

“Excuse me?

“Well there exists the probability that there may be more than one look alike in this town.”

How long have you lived in Boulder Mr. Bronski?”

“Oh just a couple months.”

“Well that’s not entirely true is it?”

Frank was a bit taken aback. He had actually lived in Boulder for 2 years a long time ago but left under auspicious circumstances. He had not made many friends back then and the type of people that he did know were most likely dead or incarcerated. So for a complete stranger, or shadow in this instance, to know that he was not brand new in town made him nervous. But really the shadows knowledge shouldn’t make him any more nervous than a talking shadow in the first place.

“Um no it is not true.”

“And you didn’t notice anything strange about the town?

“Besides the “trustafarians,” Naropa Gatherings and students burning couches? No not particularly.

“So you didn’t notice the unusual amount of Doppelgängers in town?”

“I might of had a few unexplained experiences with people I thought I knew but in those days there were, um, extenuating circumstances of the hallucinogenic variety”

“Those circumstances could have applied to many people but they did not cause doppelgängers.”

“So if Boulder has more than an average share of doppelgängers what is the cause?”

“Pull up a piece of the sidewalk and I’ll tell you.’…

Image by pikisuperstar on Freepik

Humor, Noir

Boulder Noir: Bub

Leave a comment

It was a bright sunny day but you wouldn’t have known it from the inside of Rick’s Place. There wasn’t a window in the whole bar.

The fans were there, barely visible in the dim lighting. The sounds of blues chords could be heard in the background and went well with the decor. Frank didn’t recognize the musician but he approved.

The look on the bartender matched the atmosphere. Dark and foreboding.

To Frank it seemed like this mug knew him and had no pleasant memories associated with him. Dancing lightly was going to be the task for the day.

“What’ll it be Bub”

Bub? I’ve never been a Bub before. I’ve been a Dude, a Mac and one time a Mac and Cheese1. but never a Bub thought Frank.

“I’ll take a Scotch and Soda. Whatever your rail brand is.”

“We’ve only got one brand. We call it our bar brand.”

“Ok, sounds tasty I’ll take one”

“Do you want to know what our bar brand of soda is ?”
“Uh, no. Surprise me.”

Frank knew the bartender was showing off his witty repartee but Frank was not impressed. Over the years he had encountered many bartenders with wit and this guy couldn’t hold their bar rags but Frank wouldn’t let his opinion of the guy show. He had to play nice to get the information he wanted.

The Scotch and Soda was set in front of Frank with little fanfare.

Taking a sip Frank was surprised the bar brand was decent for a blended Scotch. The soda was nondescript but soda should not take the limelight anyway.

Frank waved over the bartender.

“Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“Of course I mind. I didn’t like it in school and let the teachers know I didn’t like it but I am trapped here It’s not as if I can avoid you for the next 6 hours. So ask what you gotta ask.”

“The last time I was in here I sat next to a guy who gave me some good advice. I never got his name and I’d like to thank him properly.

He was a big guy, maybe six two. Looked like he might have been a boxer.

I got a line on some Jewelry and maybe he might like something for his wife.”

“I might know a guy like that except he’s not married,”

“Oh my mistake I just assumed he was. Well

here’s my number if you could give me a call when he shows up here I would appreciate it.”

“What’s in it for me bub?”

“Well here’s some cabbage and there will be another one if you call.”

The bartender looked down. “Oh ten bucks. Save your money Rockefeller it looks like you need it more than I do. I’ll call you if he shows up.”

Sensing this was a good time to conclude his business, Frank finished his drink and left. If he had turned around he would have seen the bartender making a call.

Walking back to his car Frank heard someone actually utter “Psst Buddy”. Looking around he saw a figure in the shadows.

Wow, his first case and his first “Psst” from the shadows all in the same week.

Things were really shaping up. Frank walked toward the shadow to investigate.

Image by pikisuperstar on Freepik

Next “Voices from the Shadow”

Noir, Humor

Boulder Noir: Muddy Waters

2 Comments

Frank had been racking his brain trying to remember where he had seen Mr. Simpson before. He liked to use Scotch to rack his brain. Not surprisingly it turned his mind into muddy waters and rarely worked but Frank loved Scotch.

As he was pouring another “just a wee dram” of his favorite Single Malt Scotch a thought struck him, not too hard because his thoughts were considerate to him when he was drinking. The last time he ordered a Single Malt Scotch in a bar was at Ricks Place and the cost changed his mind. Ricks Place didn’t serve Glenbargain. The important part of the memory was that he was sitting a few stools over from a guy who looked like a retired boxer. A boxer who from the looks of him didn’t retire early enough. That guy was definitely a drinker and he certainly looked like Mr. Steve Simpson. So either Mrs Simpson was very dim as to her husbands habits or Mr Simpson was very good at hiding them.

It was time for Frank to pay a visit to Rick’s Place. Not his favorite watering hole. In fact Frank did not have a favorite watering hole. He thought it was bad to have one because it would make him predictable and easy to find and he was less than excited for certain people to find him.

Some people may hear the name Rick’s Place and think Casa Blanca. Those people would be wrong and sorely disappointed. The full name of the place in the movie was “Ricks Cafe Americain”. Since this is America the Americain part makes no sense and no one would call it a cafe. The only thing that Ricks Place had in common with the bar of movie fame is the ceiling fans but instead of slowly circulating a breeze coming in off the evening desert, it was the stench of a beer soaked floor that the fans blew around.

Frank jumped into his 90’s Saab. Hardly an auto fit for a detective who seemingly stuck in the forties, but he was working on finding a 1938 Plymouth Coupe.

He had a list of strict requirements. To be honest it wasn’t a list as it currently contained one item. That being a 38 Plymouth Coupe he could afford to get in driving shape. For now the Saab would have to do.

Upon arrival Frank parked in back of Ricks Place lest people see him exit a Saab. He had a reputation he was trying to create and the Saab didn’t scream hard boiled detective.

Entering Ricks place Frank heard the guitar sounds of a song he didn’t recognize. The song was by Muddy Waters but Frank didn’t recognize any song that came out after 1949. He was strange that way.

What was also strange was the look the bartender gave him when he entered.

Muddy waters indeed. It was becoming downright dirty.

Image by pikisuperstar on Freepik

Noir, Humor

The Gig (Boulder Noir 2)

Leave a comment

Newbie private detective, office squatter and wrinkled clothed Frank Bronski has his first gig as a client wanders into “his” office.

“Don’t you think It’s a bit chilly in here Mr. Bronski?”

“I apologize. I’ve, um, complained to the landlord but no action from them yet.

So what’s the gig?”

“Gig,” asked Desiree Simpson.

“I’m sorry. What would you like to hire me for?”

“Well I’m sure this is almost cliche for a man in your position but I think my husband, Steve is having an affair.”

“It is somewhat cliche but not to me. I won’t treat it as such.”

That’s actually the truth he thought. It’s not a cliche if it’s my first case. What’s a cliche in this instance are my thoughts,“why would a man cheat on this lovely dame”. I am definitely sure that’s been asked a million times in a million cities about a million dames and just in this year alone.

“Why do you believe your husband is having an affair?

“Oh the usual signs you hear about. Many late nights at the office. I can understand some late nights. We are fairly new in town so it’s a new job for him but every night is a little much. To add to that, friends have said they have seen him out an about when he said he was working late. On one occasion a friend said she saw him with another woman. She couldn’t explain why but thought there was something between them.”

“Well that seems worth investigating,”he said.

Because I don’t believe in jumping to conclusions but he seems guilty from the get go, he thought.

“So you think he may be having an affair?”

“During this part of the dance I try not to think and prefer to act on instinct and let my footwork lead. Early conclusions can cloud the truth.”

“You sound like a man of experience.”

Frank didn’t know if he should feel flattered or disappointed in her lack of judgement.

“I’m afraid of the outcome but I’d rather know than feeling perpetually uncertain.”

“Thats brave of you”

“Oh I don’t think it’s being brave if the alternative is to drive myself crazy.”

“Do you have a recent picture of your husband?”

She pulled a photo out of her handbag.

Frank expected a ruggedly handsome guy. Looking at the picture he decided he was half right.

The rugged part fit but rugged in the way a failed boxer looks after a career of blocking many punches with his face. He thought “Fooling around? He should be hanging on to her like grim death.

Somehow though he seemed familiar. Had he seen him around town?

Frank asked her some routine questions about where they lived, where he worked, places (ie bars) he hung out after work, who his friends were etc.

He diligently took notes until his hand stopped in it’s tracks.

“Oh, he doesn’t drink.”

“Recovering alcoholic?”

“No he just doesn’t drink.”

Hmm, something was definitely fishy about this guy but what did he care, it was his first Gig.

“Well I think that’s enough dope, uh information, to get started. I’ll be in touch.

“Thank you Mr. Bronski. I hope it will be good news.”

With that she spun on one heal and exited leaving the slight scent of lilac in her wake.

He never liked lilac until now. It usually reminded him of a nonagenarian dipped in it leaving church. But it gently draped Desiree Simpson and she barely wore it at all.

Image by pikisuperstar on Freepik