Song of the Gumshoe

Seven AM.
She walks in.
Blonde, tall, dress of red.
"Shut, shut the door," I said.
She had that certain look in the eye,
it went well with the wall paper.
Her name: Katherine Amory.
Her background: a rich family.
Amongst the sassafras, bric-a-brac
and clap trap she was a daddy's girl,
until her daddy up and died.
I had seen it all in the newspapers.
Her case: Inheritance money.
0% went to her. The rest landed in a company called Ramcon.
I did the math myself.

What's the deal with Ramcon
and her old man's will?
Nothing I can't solve with a pack of cigarettes
and a case of whiskey.
I named my fee.
She got up and slapped me
with a hundred dollar bill.
She gave me a number I could reach her.
Instead I called my preacher.
I asked Father o'Lincoln about Ramcon.
"It's a furniture warehouse that also deals heroin."

Tonight I investigate.
I just wish the rain would stop.