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The name is Rock Hard. I've been a private dic for 15 years. I thought I had seen everything over that time, but a recent case changed all that. Some dame called me up and said her husband was missing. She wanted me to meet her at the corner of 57th and 10th at 4 o'clock. She said she may not be able to afford my price, but she would find some way of paying me. I never could resist a damsel in distress, plus she had a very sultry voice that intrigued me. As it approached 3:45, I threw on my jacket and trench coat, and caught a cab.

"Where to Mac?"

"57th and 10th". A typical crazy New York City cabbie, he cut in and out of traffic and we were there within minutes.

"That'll be a buck-fifty."

"A buck-fifty? You mokes raise your rates again?"

"Gotta make a livin' Mac"

"Yeah, well next time try to keep your fare livin' too" I said, and tossed him the fare. It was five minutes before four. I was early for a change. I leaned up against the wall of Jansen's Pharmacy and lit up a smoke. Ahhhh cigarettes, the greatest invention known to man. One day every person in America will be smoking. I was blowing smoke rings ...

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