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Lee Hacklyn, Private Investigator in Lightweight, Heavyweight, Deadweight: Lee Hacklyn, #1
Lee Hacklyn, Private Investigator in Lightweight, Heavyweight, Deadweight: Lee Hacklyn, #1
Lee Hacklyn, Private Investigator in Lightweight, Heavyweight, Deadweight: Lee Hacklyn, #1
Ebook36 pages21 minutes

Lee Hacklyn, Private Investigator in Lightweight, Heavyweight, Deadweight: Lee Hacklyn, #1

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New York City.  1976.

 

Milton Darby, president of the National Boxing Consortium,

hires Lee to investigate the murder of three professional boxers.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherJohn Leister
Release dateSep 30, 2023
ISBN9798223477983
Lee Hacklyn, Private Investigator in Lightweight, Heavyweight, Deadweight: Lee Hacklyn, #1

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    Book preview

    Lee Hacklyn, Private Investigator in Lightweight, Heavyweight, Deadweight - John Leister

    QUEENS, NEW YORK CITY, 1976.

    CHAPTER ONE

    Another day.  Another towering inferno.

    But perhaps I’m getting ahead of myself, Dear Reader.

    Woke up.  Got out of bed.  Took a comb upon my head.

    To be or not to be a Beatle. 

    It just wasn’t in the cards for poor Pete Best.

    I wonder what he thinks about all day.

    Missed it by that much, as Agent 86 might say.

    5 am.

    I was more hung over than Wilt Chamberlain, or so I’d read in a Penthouse interview.

    Yeah, I’m one of those freaks who pays as much attention to the words as the pictures.

    Oh, Dad!

    You actually slept with Mom, with a pile of those things under your bed?

    How could you do that?

    No wonder she divorced you.

    I lit a Blue Buzzard and looked out my Queens one-bedroom apartment window.

    It wasn’t just raining cats and dogs, it was raining their fleas and eliminations, too.

    This wasn’t a garden-variety New York rainstorm.

    This was an apocalyptic deluge.

    My father was a carpenter.

    He could’ve built an ark with his bare hands, just like Noah.

    You’ll never amount to anything, Leland.  You’re unskilled and your report card is a symphony of Fs.  I saw a commercial the other day for the French Foreign Legion.  They said they’ll take anybody.  You immediately, no pun intended, sprung to mind.

    My old man was a great carpenter, but he was a lousy child psychologist.

    There was a flash of lightning and I dropped my snap-relaxant/cancer stick.

    Talk about opposite ends of pleasure and agony.

    The business end landed on my barefoot.

    Ouch.

    I picked up the butt, tossed it in my toilet and began my breakfast, the world-famous Hacklyn omlette, three eggs, some chopped up green peppers, onions and garlic cloves.

    Mmm...so

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