The Lonely Street

“I see him always in a lonely street, in lonely rooms, puzzled but never quite defeated.”

Marlowe waited but his quarry never left the bookstore.
The dank night felt lonely and longer than ever before.
Two nickels rubbing together wouldn’t buy him lunch.
This crazy case was all based on a jealous wife’s hunch.
It was 2 a.m. on a quiet downtown Santa Monica street.
The time and place you’d only see seedy strangers meet.
The shamus walked around back. For once, he was puzzled.
No exit. Where did the man go? He was truly befuddled.
Direct was always best. He knocked on the front door.
A voice rang out, a deep male voice with a throaty roar.
“Get lost! Scam I tell you! Don’t want any. Damn it, It’s late.”
“Tell John I have a message from his wife, I’m willing to wait.”
A pause and then a click as the door swung to let me in.
Marlowe spied a long hallway leading to rooms with a quite noisy din.
A shadow stepped out with a gun pointed at his chest.
“What do you know about my wife? You’re an unwanted guest.”
He smiled. Gun or not he was never defeated.
“She’s worried, she thinks you’ve cheated.”
A laugh from the big goon. “Nuts, I’ve done no such thing.”
“Get out of here before I put your arm in a sling.”
I nodded at the noise behind him, down the mysterious hall
He smiled. “Got to pay off some gambling debt’s, that’s all.”



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