As he watched the house burn, Edgar Yardland was grasping to find leads to the source of the mysterious drink that transformed regular birds into monsters with a demon’s strenght. The Demon’s Rum, if you will.
The previous night his lead, Shane Black, had escaped from Chicago Central Hospital leaving behind a stormed room and a few dead coppers. While investigating his disappearance, the gumshoe lucked out: a private dick called Irons called. He wanted to talk to detective Miller, Yardland’s partner, but as soon as he mentioned that the hinky Shane Black had been to their office that very night, Yardland left the CPD Station and drove into the night.
”Parker & Irons, Private Detectives” it was called. The office that located atop of Café Noire. Our hero helped himself in through the unlocked front door. The place was a mess. Well, at least half of it was. Parker’s side was just fine, but Irons’ door had been smashed in by a desk. As the pieces were still falling into their places, Yardland had no idea Black could be strong enough to commit such a feat. Gat in his hand, he entered the Parker’s side of the office. As soon as he stepped into the room, he heard an all-too-familiar click of a tri-barreled shotgun beside him.
”Lowe-er yor weap’nnn” the man said. The boozehound of a shamus was as lit as they come. Yardland didn’t like the situation, not one bit.
”CPD, lower your weapon.” he answered while having the shotgun leveled on his noodle.
”You first” the man demanted.
”CPD, lower your weapon and I won’t have to send you over to the big house for drinking.” Yardland stood his ground .
Eventually, the man lowered his iron and asked to see the gumshoe’s buzzer. After short introductions, Yardland finally got into investigating. He learned that Black had attacked the office for unknown reasons, although he might have been after Parker, who had tailed him in the past. Yardland learned of The Rum. Black had drank something which had given him monstrous abilities of enchanced size and strenght, while growing his fingernails into deadly claws.. The dick’s tale reminded Yardland of a book he had read years ago called Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, in which the title character transforms into a beast of a man, free of conscience. Black had drank his “serum” and turned his Jekyll to Mr. Hyde, albeit literally a monster. Yardland told Parker that Black had been drunk and sporting his old “fighting claws” he got while pitfighting in Salt Lake City. Even if he had history in the law, Yardland couldn’t risk Parker knowing the terrifying truth of the drink. If there’ something this town doesn’t need it’s a shamus telling a tale of monsters, Hydes he dubbed them, and spreading The Fear.
To Be Cont.