Once again, Decoder Ring Theater presents another page from the casebook of that Master of Mystery,

that's Sultan of Sleothing, Martin Bracknell's immortal detective, Black Jack Justice,

starring Christopher Mott as Jack and Andrea Lyons as Trixie Dixon Girl Detective.

Thank you. and says Trixie Dixon Girl Detective. The name's Justice.

Jack, Justice.

It was the third straight day of rain that did it.

The first morning, gray and too cold for October, that kept them all inside.

Lots of people like the rain.

Like it even better when it puts on a good show the way it had been.

Thunder and lightning are phenomena best observed from the dry side of a thick pane of glass.

A rainy Sunday does no one any harm.

Come Monday morning, it was still raining cats, with a forecast calling for dogs into the afternoon.

That was less charming.

Those who had to go somewhere did so with their colors pulled up high and their heads turned down low.

Hats were ruined, colds were caught, and those whose shoes had worn thin with misfortune

were made more miserable by streets like growing rivers that wool socks alone couldn't damn.

The second day of rain reminded everyone it was only getting colder, and it'd be a long time

before the sun felt good on their face again.

The first ripples of a growing winter made

the citizenry aware of their own mortality. It made them miserable, but it still kept them inside.

I spent most of that day flipping playing cards into my hat while Madame de Sard reorganized

our files again. The storm was making tricksy crazy, too. I wasn't worried. I had a hunch it would hold out

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