A Day in the Life of Sam Black

It drizzled as I made my way up to my office. It's been raining for weeks, it seems. I was meeting a client about a case I had been working on. The case seemed simple--they all do--but I kept having the nagging feeling that this one wasn't. At first glance it appeared to be a simple accident, a man slipped and fell, hurt his head, but the dame who was paying my bills suspected foul play. The guy doesn't remember anything, not even his name, so he's been no help.

It all revolves around Jill. I had talked to her when I first took the case and thought she was a good broad, but messy--the kind that will make you forget things just by looking at her. I wouldn't mind forgetting things with her for a while...and that's what makes me distrust her.

As I mounted the steps to the fifth floor I turned the facts over and over in my mind: on Saturday, September 13th at 10:40 in the morning, two people go up a hill to get some water. Why were running errands together at such an early hour? Were they lovers? Ex-lovers? At the crest of the hill, Jack, according to Jill, falls down and splits his skull. Why did they choose the steepest part of the hill to climb when it was so wet? Could Jill have overpowered Jack, knocked him over the head and caused him to fall down the hill? Here the details become fuzzy. Jack, in a raving, confused state, stumbles back to his house and covers his head with vinegar and brown paper. Or is it Old Dame Dob who bandages his head? So far everyone has had tight lips about this one. Where was Jill during all of this? Her alibi was sketchy at best. And how does Old Dame Dob come into the picture? An innocent, well-wishing bystander? Unlikely.

All of this could be accidental, or coincidental, but in my business I've found that things rarely are. But I still can't see how these people are tied together. Was there money involved? Drugs? Is this some sort of bitter love triangle? With these thoughts rattling around my head, I opened the door to my office, expecting to see my client, whose role in this remained an even deeper mystery. Instead, I was greeted by the steely eye of a revolver. I didn't recognize the man who was holding it, and he didn't offer a name. "Sit," he said. I could tell he wasn't one for pleasantries. As I walked to my chair, I felt the hard kick of the butt of his gun against the back of my head. The world slid away from me as I hit the floor.

When I awoke, my office was mostly unchanged, though now there was a jackhammer at the base of my skull. At times like these I turn to the only faithful friend I've got, Mr. Daniels. I poured myself a drink and noticed that there was note on my desk. How thoughtful.

Mr. Black,
You should think about dropping this case.
You're in over your head and you're sinking fast.
Consider this a warning. Next time won't be so friendly.

I'm sinking fast...funny that's what my wives used to say. I could see that this case was more complicated than I thought. If one of the parties was willing to bring in hired goons, well that must mean that I'm on to something. But the only one who knew that I was coming to my office at this time was my client, which means I was probably set up. But my client was the one who set me on this trail in the first place. Things just didn't make sense. They didn't have to, as far as I cared, as long as my check came in the mail.

I grabbed my pals Smith and Wesson and made my way to the street, the only place I felt at home. Once again, I reviewed the facts: Jack and Jill go up a hill, to fetch a pail of water. Later Jack is found with a broken crown...and then all hell breaks loose.

I head towards the scene of the crime, hoping to find some clue--something, anything--that will link all these pieces together. It's raining harder now, and it doesn't look like it's going to let up today. Perhaps it never will...