I walked into the bar. Fud Leclerc's 'Drowned

I walked into the bar. Fud Leclerc's 'Drowned Men of the River Seine' was playing on the juke box and the lighting was low. He was waiting for me by the pool table holding 2 cues &

a green plastic visor, bow tie, waist vest, & khaki shorts. I sidled over. "You're ruining this noire story & it's only fold 2!" "It's my cover. I dumped the trunk in the Seine.

I flicked my cigarette after it. A corner of the trunk bobbed along the Seine, but then it sank, taking my former business partner and lover with it. A sharp pain in my back j

elly reminded me of my late partner's struggle to live. I watched the Seine carry his corpse to nowhere's ville. Out of sight out of mind, what I needed now was a drink that could

help me start anew. So I stopped at a nearby cafe and ordered an espresso and a freshly baked croissant. Soon I forgot all about that drowning man in the river...whoever he was.

"I was just delivering his goatmilk frappelatte. I didn't drown him, Officer." All I knew was his name - Mike - which I'd written on the cup. And now I was Suspect #1.

Well, then there was also my fingerprint bruises around Mike's neck. "But those came from me throttling him to pay for his goatmilk frappelatte, Officer! He took it without paying!

" The officer looked doubtful, then frightened when I wrapped my fingers around his neck. "It was just like this Officer!" I demonstrated. "See? I had nothing to do with Mike's

autoerotic asphyxiation by proxy. I am simply a licensed massage therapist and a master of prestidigitation minding my own business. Voilà!" The officer collapsed completely naked.