Once again, Decoder Ring Theater presents another page from the casebook of that master of mystery.

That's Sultan of Sleuthing, Martin Bracknell's immortal detective Black Jack Justice, starring Christopher Mott as Jack and Andrea Lyons as Trixie Dixon Girl Detective.

The name's Dixon. Trixie Dixon, girl detective. The name's Dixon, Trixie Dixon, Girl Detective.

Whoever said that news travels fast

had never kept a lunch date with our old pal Mike Rogers,

crime reporter for the Gazette.

To the best of my knowledge,

he had never run less than 45 minutes late

for anything in the years that I'd known him.

And that was when the appointment was a thinly veiled opportunity to undress a certain girl detective with his eyes over a meatloaf special while being pumped for information on a case.

It was a tasteless little dance we danced, but an effective one.

Besides, Mike was a married man and therefore strictly

hands off, even for the usually progressive Miss Dixon. So needless to say, I wasn't all that

worried when my wait for Mike turned into hour number two. But when the clock on the wall

had done another loop-the-loop, my patience was running a little thin. Not only did I not

have the skinny I was after, but I had to go report same to all square jaw. About time.

Shut up. The client just called. The client can hold her horses. Perhaps you would like to tell the

client this the next time she calls. She's getting a little sick of hearing me say it.

I haven't heard it once and I'm already sick of it.

Nice. What are you doing? Looking for the bottle.

Under B for bottle? It's a bit simplistic, don't you think?

B for bourbon. It's not here.

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