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. as Trixie Dixon Girl Detective. The name's Dixon. Trixie Dixon Girl Detective.

They say that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.

Personally, I've found one or two more direct routes in my time.

For the benefit of those of you who tittered or covered the children's ears at that statement,

let me just say that I'm surprised and disappointed in all of you.

And if you've been paying any attention all these months,

you'd know that the most direct route to a man's heart is through his ribcage with a soft

nose revolver bullet.

And I'm far too much of a lady to have meant anything else.

That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

As for Jack's heart, I'd need a doctor certificate to be absolutely sure that he had one,

but this much I can say with a fair amount of certainty.

His stomach certainly was the quickest route to the off switch for his brain.

That morning, when the call came in from Braithwaite's, to say we were a

little surprised as an understatement. We would have been a little surprised if it had been Sir Walter

Raleigh or Rasputin the Mad Monk. Braithwaite's was downright shocking. Braithwaite was the

biggest spit and polished detective agency in town, the outfit that had turned the private eye business into something slightly duller than a visit to your aunt minnie's.

We had very little evidence to suggest that they were officially aware of our existence, and if they were, they'd never before given us the satisfaction of letting us know it.

Not that there was much satisfaction to be had in the call.

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