She wanted her son back in her arms. James' patience was almost non existent as he scolded the police for wasting time. "Sir you have to believe we're doing all we can." The officer said trying to calm him down. "WELL I DON'T. YOU COME BACK EVERY DAY AND ASK US MORE STUPID QUESTIONS THEN TELL US YOU'VE GOT NO LEADS, IF MY SON GETS HURT DUE TO YOU'RE INCOMPETENCE, I PROMISE I WILL RAIN HELL ON ALL OF YOU!!!!!" Emily was sat in her room. She was an emotional wreck. Her little bro was missing and the police were about as much use as shit flavoured toothpaste. She had to take matters into her own hands. The next day at school, everyone had heard what had happened. All her friends tried to comfort her, the entire football team came to offer her some support. Apologies weren't enough. She needed to find her brother. At lunch she sat with all her friends and invited the football team captain, Steven Blaine, to sit with them. They all listened to her plan. "I need to find him. I need you're. "Scotch. Single malt. No ice."Mickey left to get the drinks, and she turned to face me. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, copper? You lookin' for loot, or a body?" The name's Sam, and it's P.I., not P.D. And what I'm lookin' for is information about this 'Mesmer' fella' who's performing here tonight."She mulled this over a moment as Mickey brought back our drinks. She knocked hers back with one swallow, then stubbed out her cigarette in an ashtray on the bar."Why don't you come with me and you can ask him yourself?" she said, taking the sleeve of my trench coat in her hand and pulling me toward a small hallway between the bar and the stage.Warning bells started to go off in my mind; I had only wanted information about "Dr. Mesmer," not to confront him this early in the game. Still... this guy was very likely some weak-kneed performer who'd wet his pants if I came on hard and tough, giving him no chance to dance around the subject. I'd come on strong, and he'd spill the.
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