Book of Secrets

The Perfect Crime (Posted on Gothem_Girl)

 Title: The Perfect Crime

Genre: Historical Fiction, Mystery/Suspense, Romance

Description: Clyde Wilson was the best Private Investigator of his time. But even the best get in trouble. When a mysterious young woman walks into his office, asking for help finding her sister, Clyde chooses to helps her but quickly finds himself dragged into a world of alcohol, mobsters, and murder. And the missing sister happens to be the most feared mobster's girl. Can Clyde somehow get the woman back home or will he die trying?

Piece:

It started out like any other mid-spring day. Private Investigator, Clyde Wilson, had just entered his office, Mrs. White bidding him good morning like usual. Like all mornings, Clyde went straight to his desk, pulling open the bottom drawer and grabbing a glass and the liquor bottle he kept in there at all times. Nonchalantly, he poured himself a glass, ignoring Mrs. White’s past concerns about his alcohol addiction.

Slowly, Clyde got up, grabbing his glass and walked over to the window, pulling open the shades and taking a gander out at bustling New York City. People and cars swarmed the streets, just like they did every day in the large city.

            “Mr. Wilson, you have a new client,” Mrs. White suddenly poked white head in. Claudia White was an elderly woman with a head full of snow white hair, opposite of her dark brown, yet soft and caring eyes. She soon noticed the half full glass of liquor in the PI’s hand and grimaced, knowing there was nothing to be said that hasn’t been said already.

            “Bring ‘em in,” Clyde stated, barely glancing back at his secretary. When she pushed the door opened all the way, revealed in the doorway was a young woman with flaring, neatly kept red hair and staggering, ice blue eyes. She looked pleadingly towards the PI.

            “Mr. Wilson, my name is Sally Park, er, I mean Jackson.” She corrected herself sternly. Clyde glanced back at her suspiciously. “Sorry, I just got married. I’m still sort of getting used to the new name,” she said quietly. Clyde turned to her, returning to his desk and getting comfortable in his chair.

            “Mrs. Jackson, please sit,” Clyde said, ushering to the chair on the other side of his desk. With hesitant movements, Sally situated herself rather uncomfortably in the chair. “So, what can I help you with, ma’am?” Clyde asked professionally.

            “Well, you see Mr. Wilson,” Sally began, her Georgia accent making her voice sound all the more gentle. “My sister left our little town in Georgia last year to follow her dreams to become a show girl in the big city, and we haven’t heard from her since.” Sally informed, her lip slightly quivering. “And, well, my mother… my mother’s really sick and she only has… a few days left.” Tears quickly began filling Sally’s eyes and she hastily grabbed her handkerchief to dab them away. “I was hoping to have our whole family around her when she… when she passes, but I haven’t heard from my sister since the day she left and I was hoping you could help me find her,”

Clyde leaned back in his chair, studying the young teary woman. Her western attire only proved even more that she was possibly from Georgia, her red, t-cropped sandals supporting the statement. Most women around here went with the more elegant looks of high heels and long silky dresses.

            “I’d be glad to assist, Mrs. Jackson,” Clyde almost grinned, making the red-headed woman brighten a bit. “What’s your sister’s name?”

            “Oh, uh, Evelyn. Evelyn Park. I even have a photo of her,” she fumbled through her purse for a moment before pulling out a small black and white picture, handing it gently to Clyde.

Upon looking at the picture, Clyde’s breath caught in his chest, his blood running cold. He knew the woman much too well. Her curly brown hair that cascaded to her shoulders. Her creamy white skin that gave her an angelic appearance. Her deep, ocean blue eyes that seemed to drown you. Evelyn Park, fiancé to the most feared mobster of New York City, Tony Torrio.

            “Do you think you can find her, Mr. Wilson?” Sally looked up at him with hope in her eyes. Clyde tore himself away from the picture, returning his gaze back to his client.

            “I’ll have her back in Georgia within a matter of days,” Clyde said confidently. A smile came to Sally’s face as she got up from the chair, clutching her bag tightly. She started to leave when she stopped in the doorway, glancing back once more at the PI.

            “Oh, and Mr. Wilson, do you think you could keep this quiet? I don’t want to cause a huge fuss,” she requested, her icy eyes glinting shyly.

            “Of course,” Clyde replied, giving a curt nod before Sally left, Mrs. White quickly replacing the vacant space in the doorway.

            “You’re going after Torrio’s girl?” the old woman gasped. “Oh boy, you better have a death warrant, son,” she sighed, shaking her head and bringing her hands to her face.

            “Don’t worry, Mrs. White, there’s never been a case I couldn’t handle,” Clyde winked, grinning widely.

            “But you’re reckless,” she threw her hands up, looking as though she couldn’t be any more annoyed with the cold truth that just escaped her lips.

            “But’s that’s always how you get the big ones,” he chuckled in reply, putting the glass to his lips and gulping down the last bit of liquor. “And this one’s huge,”