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Harry walked into his office from the bedroom. The rooms he rented from Tee Tee were small, but at least he had a bedroom, a kitchen, and a room for an office. He paused.A box sat squarely in the middle of his desk — brown, with a brown lid. He approached cau...

Harry flipped open his diary. Or his journal. He and Bob often went back and forth over whether men kept journals or diaries. Frankly, Harry didn’t really care. It was his story — messy, personal, and worth a second look. He flipped through some of the early ...

Another grey, dreary day. It always seemed to be grey and dreary, Harry thought to himself as he rounded a corner. He was on his way to see Bob — Mustafo Bob — and walked slowly, a to-go cup of coffee in his hand. Did the sun ever shine here? He wasn’t sure it...

Harry sat at his desk and motioned for his visitor to take a seat opposite him. A mime. It had taken five minutes just to coax the mime into the office after knocking, and it was nearly as hard to get the man — this mime — to simply sit down. He’s in full mi...

“I lit a cigarette with his confession — cheap paper, smelled like regret — and watched the sunrise try to forget us both.” I wasn’t even a smoker, so all I did was cough and feel the burning sting of smoke tearing through my nostrils. Finding Buben hadn’t b...

Harry stumbled from bed to kitchenette, still half-stuffed into yesterday. He was tired — very tired — and shuffled groggily over to the coffee pot to urge it into operation. He was on a mission to wake up enough to think. Sitting to watch the pot slowly begi...

“Harry… Bowels…” The tone was unmistakable — cool, calculating, and very judgemental. Judge Machamp, presiding over Inferior Court this day. Harry stood. It felt less like rising to meet justice than to meet his Maker; instead, he was standing to face his ex...

Harry gazed out at the city from his nighttime perch on the rooftop. Wilmington — a city that never quite slept, nor fully woke. It simply existed, and seemed content to keep existing. He was sure it would go on just like this long after Armageddon. This was ...

Harry pulled open the front door to DD’s and stepped inside. The jingling of the bells above the door announced the arrival of a new customer — or, in this case, they announced Harry. DD’s was Tee Tee’s diner, located directly below the room Harry rented upst...

“I tell ya,” the driver rasped to the man in the back seat, “I know it to be true. I know it. And anyone who says otherwise is a fool.” The man in the back — middle-aged, with stubble showing not just a five-o’clock shadow but perhaps a seven- or eight-o’cloc...

Harry sat at his desk, preparing to review some case files. Morning in the groggy city. He had finished his coffee — it wasn’t good; it tasted like cinnamon-spiced hellfire — but he didn’t really care how it tasted. It just had to work. flip Oh, the MG Gang....

Harry and Bob walked down Market Street. Two in the afternoon, and the sun hadn’t bothered to show up in days. Harry was sporting a new haircut under his fedora — courtesy of Bob. Bob, meanwhile, was munching on a hot dog — courtesy of Harry. “What do you mak...

Harry was unsurprised. Middle of the day, and it was still grey outside. He was out for a stroll — an effort to clear his mind of the fog and cobwebs that seemed to take up permanent roost whenever he was stuck on a case. A walk often helped. Sunlight would h...

ding The kitchen bell rang, signalling to Harry that an order was ready to be taken to the table. Harry was running the front of DD’s today. A Tuesday. Supposedly a slow day. It wasn’t. Tee Tee had gone out of town — “an urgent matter of the utmost importanc...

Harry had a straightforward job — a welcome respite from investigating missing mushrooms and vandalised billboards. Just last week he’d turned down a case to find “who put the wop in the wop-do-wop-da-wap,” simply because he didn’t know what a wop-do-wop-da-wa...

Harry stepped into the front office of Stonebrook Furniture. He had a case to find proof of insider trading, and the best way to do that was to get a copy of the company’s balance sheets and income statements. For now, Harry had traded in his fedora and wrink...

Harry had a mime in his office. A mime. He had to question this person — but he was already at his wits’ end just getting the mime into the office in the first place. How on earth was he supposed to interrogate someone who wouldn’t speak? “This is what we’re...

Harry was confused. This wasn’t a new feeling. In fact, confusion was a feeling Harry knew very well. But this time, it was worse than usual. He’d found a note slipped under his office door: “The dog wasn’t the only one buried in the park.” What did that m...

This was it. Harry had finally found the vandal who’d been defacing Mrs. Cackleberry’s posters and advertisements: the man who called himself Buben, as if he were some Renaissance artist. This Buben, of course, didn’t want to be caught — so he fled. Harry ga...

It was grey and dreary in Wilmington — the kind of day even Ansel Adams would have chosen to stay in bed. It also fit Harry’s mood. He saw things in black and white today, without the noise of colour. And he was angry. Harry sat at the coffee bar at DD’s, nu...