The Hard-Boiled Dental Practitioner
When Nora walked into my office, I knew I was headed for trouble, the way a mosquito heads straight for an albino. Her brother was missing, and she wanted me to learn who was responsible. If I could find the 100,000 dollars he stole from her, all the better.
Her brother was the kind of scum that spat in your prescription bottles when he looked in your medicine cabinet. He was wanted by the police, by the mob, by the FBI, by everyone except the U.S. Army.
I told her no thanks. She needed a private dick, not a dentist.