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.

The name's Dixon. Trixie Dixon Girl Detective.

The world has changed a lot, my friends, and there's no mistake about it.

Why, back in Granny Dixon's day, it would have been inconceivable that there would ever be such a thing as a girl detective,

much less that she would herself one day be baking raisin muffins for one.

The social order had stood on its head.

The borders of whole countries had shifted, then disappeared, reappeared, and then shifted again,

and none of it looked to slow down any time soon.

That was why it was important, from time to time, to pause a moment to consider the lilies of the field.

The constants in this ever-shifting life.

The few true touchstones that remained as they had ever been.

Like the great social equalizer that was the gaming table. It mattered not what walk of life your pigeons came from, as long as every chair was full and they were prepared

to empty their pockets into the baby needs a new pair of shoes fund. And so it was that on

the evening in question, as the last few stalwarts at the Justice and Dixon Invitational prepared to enter the final round of the day's conquests.

It had been, to that point, easy pickings. But now the men had been separated from the boys, and as soon as I had their money too, we'd be done with cards for the night.

Lady Luck can be a fickle mistress-neighors, and on that good eve she had left us with a most motley of crews.

It was Squarejaw, yours truly, the copper, and the crook.

Sure was nice of Dixon's boyfriend to leave us all this swell money, wasn't it?

Drop dead.

Which one?

...