"Death by Sword"

Mangled toes had been turning up all over Manhattan, and the inhabitants were scared. Ten murders, in ten weeks, all committed by some lunatic with a sword, still nobody had a clue who this cold-blooded killer was.
Sebastian A. Market had always loved Manhattan with its grey tones and starless raining night sky, which never seemed to quit dripping, there was a disgustingly dead smell to the town. It was a place where he felt confident. He was 6’- 1” or 2”, carrying about 210 lbs, a gangly sort of cat with light brown colored eyes, it was sometimes said you may see them as hazel in color, but that always depended on his mood, his dark brown hair always neatly combed. His friends saw him as a oozing, disgustingly do-gooder, and one that could not be turned no matter how much cabbage was thrown his way. Once, he had even helped an injured bird, from a cat’s intent to eat it. That’s the sort of man he was, stable, courageous, his favorite drink was a warmed brandy.
Sebastian, who was called Sam, or Seb, by those few friends he had, walked over to the window in his second floor office, staring out into the night, he reflected on his cold surroundings. The rain was hammering down like scattering rats in an attic. His eyes were nailed to the half flooded street below; that was when he saw something off in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Kathrine Smyth; she was a slender angel and tall not even needing those stilettos heels she was walking in.
Sebastian gulped in an almost choking manner, taking another drink of his glass of brandy. He was not prepared for this skirt when she walked into his life.
Ms. Kathrine Smyth was a drop dead gorgeous doll, meaning she was stunning, he knew it was all over when he heard her footsteps enter his office. Soon as the office door swung open and her sweet perfume slapped him back to life, back into reality; he woke from his half state of sleep when his office door was closed. You see, he’d been up the whole night before on a cold case, and he thought a few minutes of shut eye, was just what the doc had ordered. All it took was a single glance from under the brim of his hat, and he was struck by cupid’s arrow for this Ginger. Sebastian had a fondness for a lovely set of long legs, and at the first sight of her silken covered gams, he knew he was in love; funny how he still hadn’t seen the rest of this lady’s package. He didn’t know it yet, but she’d be the only one who could stop the predatory killer that was on the loose.
Her voice was as sweet as a song bird; she spoke, asking if he was Detective Sebastian A. Market. She then took a seat on one of his office’s chairs, directly across from his line of sight, removing her fur stow which was so lazily draped over one of her shoulders. She then told him that she was Kathrine Smyth; opening her small hand clutch she pulled out a thin silver tone cigarette case, with a matching lighter which she sparked up a flame holding it up to the tip of that thin gasper to light it. Kathrine slowly crossed her legs allowing the slit along the left side of her skirt to reveal her thigh high stockings. He knew right there, she was the kind of dame, that would help him overcome his Vaseline addiction.
She was here to enlist his help and find the answers, before the hungry blade killer and his deadly sword strike again. For some reason this beautiful Dish, got it in her head she was going to be the deranged killer’s next victim. He told Ms. Smyth, he would place a call to a young police detective he knew, yeah sure the kid was just another rookie gumshoe, Market thought to himself. But he had a talent and was always eager, he told her that Detective Tristan Ferguson, would be a big help, and find the answers before the killer and his dirty blade struck again.
Who knew it, that when he woke up yesterday morning, and having no sleep in two days, that he would be thrown into the center of the investigation of the decade. The only clue was a weathered blade; yeah that was the funny part of this case. The killer must have had an endless supply of these swords, because he’d leave one at every crime scene. The cops were all in a pickle, the only clues were those used up blades and the toes of all the killer’s vics scattered about the town.
This Ms. Smyth was a femme fatale, she knew it and wasn’t afraid to make it known to whomever it was set in her sights. Funny how things go, when you least except it, a Dish like her comes walking into your life. Here he was minding his own, keeping his nose clean, and she chose him. He got up and stepped out from around his desk, as Ms. Smyth stepped in closer to him, yeah that’s right to each stride he took to close the gap between them, she’d match his move, and he could see the dirty glint in her eye. This Dame gazed with the affliction of a predator, she said, in a hushed tone, “I want help to find the killer.”
He took a long look back at her, as he walked across his office, even more afraid of what this Sweet Dish was doing to him, more then what that killer swordsmen was doing to his victims. To be honest with himself, any fear he may have had about this madman killing with these swords disappeared when this beauty came walking through his office door. Finding himself at the old upright piano which was stuff against the back wall of his office, Sebastian sat down and started fingering an old tune on those weathered keys. “Ms. Smyth, where is your proof that the killer is after you? “, he asked in his most confident voice.
They both looked at each other with stressed feelings, like two pickled, plain pigeons singing at the damn arrogant rain storm, his radio which had been playing some jazz tune in the background, and they were like two intuitive strangers chatting to the beat. He studied Kathrine’s painted toes and those long gams which seemed to go on forever, well vanishing beneath her well-tailored skirt. Eventually, taking a deep breath, "I’m sorry,” he began to speak in apologetic tones, “but I don’t feel the same way, and I think there is something you’re not spelling the beans about.”
Ms. Smyth looked shocked, her emotions were raw like she was just stung by a bee, and this was where she started beating those birds out of whatever bush she was hiding them in. He could actually hear this Dame’s emotions shattering into a heap of pieces, like that vase he once knocked off his mother’s table when he was still a kid. But this was about the time this kitten took out of her hand bag a tissue to pat those almost believable puppy tears.
She got up from where she was poised on the chair in Sebastian’s office and came sashaying across the floor. Before he could skip a note; this Doll pulled him up from his piano concerto to the jazz playing in the background, as the stool seat spun out a squeaking tune of its own, and drop kicked him with a kiss that made his toes grow an inch, hell his left big toe broke through his sock. Catching his breath that she stole clean out of him, and then he asked her if she’d like a drink, pouring a couple glasses for them. He slid smoothly back behind his desk, taking a drink he was trying to calm his nerves, and was trying to douse put out the fire she just built inside him, yet not even the glass of brandy wasn’t calming his nerves tonight.
Kathrine stood on the other side of Sebastian’s desk, as she watch how she made this harden Private Dick squirm in his seat all nervous like. It simply warmed her to the core knowing she was able to turn this man into a pile of mashed potatoes, and how she hadn’t really got started on him with her game. She knew it was not going to be too long, before she was going to be the gravy to his potatoes.
© 2015 By: H. Dirk Macgrieve
http://authorhdirkmacgrieve.tumblr.com/