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    Lee Hacklyn 1970s Private Investigator in Shark Horizons: Lee Hacklyn, #1
    Lee Hacklyn 1970s Private Investigator in Shark Horizons: Lee Hacklyn, #1
    Lee Hacklyn 1970s Private Investigator in Shark Horizons: Lee Hacklyn, #1
    Ebook45 pages28 minutes

    Lee Hacklyn 1970s Private Investigator in Shark Horizons: Lee Hacklyn, #1

    By John Leister

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    About this ebook

    New York City. 1974.

     

    Lee is hired to investigate the murder of Majesty Island Chief-of-Police,

    Roy Fosse.

    Not long after Lee arrives, Roy's wife, Marcie, is shot.

    And is there a shark circling the waters of Majesty Island?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJohn Leister
    Release dateAug 12, 2023
    ISBN9798223103707
    Lee Hacklyn 1970s Private Investigator in Shark Horizons: Lee Hacklyn, #1

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      Book preview

      Lee Hacklyn 1970s Private Investigator in Shark Horizons - John Leister

      CHAPTER ONE

      I was just leaving the Escape theater in Times Square, on a balmy July evening.

      The streets were alive with hookers, tourists, looky-loos, pimps, dope addicts, panhandlers, jugglers and locals.

      You could always tell the locals.

      They marched around the greatest city in the world, as if it belonged to them.

      I took off my jacket, wrapped it around my waist and lit a Blue Buzzard.

      The movie I’d just watched, alone, was Defiance, starring Jan-Michael Vincent.

      A lot of people thought he and I bore an uncanny resemblance; or so I liked to pretend.

      It was my kind of movie. 

      The only thing I hated about it was...nothing, really.

      However, I was discovering that, the older I got, the less engaged I was with the idea of watching movies alone.

      Or doing anything alone, for that matter.

      No man is an island.

      I could see myself dying old, alone and broke, with nothing to show for my life.

      It was a vision that scared me more than spiders; and I’m arachnophobic.

      Help, help!  Stop that woman!  She has my wallet!

      Honestly.

      I can’t take myself anywhere.

      CHAPTER TWO

      The woman in question, came at me like a cannonball.

      She was built like one, too.

      Her Farrah Fawcett wig fell off and one of her boobs was at a weird angle.

      She was really a he.

      He wore enough make-up to paint the Brooklyn Bridge; and a skirt, that was little mor than a rubber band.

      He was pumping his hairy arms madly and everyone in front of him quickly got out of his way.

      I stepped back and stuck out my foot.

      Lee Hacklyn, Master of Jeet-Trip Do.

      Belly Flop!

      As he fell forward, hard, the wallet torpedoed out of his hand.

      I walked over the base of trash bin and picked it up.

      He/she, I guess I’d have to say, they, according to present-day, arbitrary standards, dragged, no pun intended, himself to his feet and said, Give that back to me!

      A man ran up to him.  Not a hair was out of place and his suit was far from off the rack.

      He smelled so much of hair spray, that I feared the event of somebody lighting a cigarette in his vicinity.

      He was pudgy, his silk suit was more sweat than suit and

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