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Decoder Ring Theatre

Black Jack Justice (book) – 17

Decoder Ring Theatre

Gregg Taylor

Audio, Kids & Family, Comedy, Mystery, Full, Book, Comic, Cast, Comics, Adventure, Radio, Drama, Superhero, Fiction, Stories For Kids, Otr, Thriller, Play, Theatre, Pulp, Detective, Theater

4.8661 Ratings

🗓️ 29 April 2017

⏱️ 13 minutes

🧾️ Download transcript

Summary

Decoder Ring Theatre’s beloved his-and-hers private detectives return in a hard-boiled audio adventure in 30 chapters. The case that started it all - very first meeting between Jack Justice and Trixie Dixon, girl detective! Read by Christopher Mott and Andrea Lyons.

Can’t stand to wait a week for the next chapter? This story is available in both paperback and e-book editions. Find out more here: http://decoderringtheatre.com/books/black-jack-justice/

This week - In which Trixie plays naughty librarian, but not really. Narration by Christopher Mott.

Transcript

Click on a timestamp to play from that location

0:00.0

Chapter 17. By the time we hit the street, it was too late to do anything useful, so Trixie flagged a cab and told me to meet her in the morning at 36 Wellington Avenue.

0:10.9

That's right downtown, I said. Yes, it is, she said, climbing into the taxi cab. What is that? I said out loud. I knew the block, but I was drawing a blank.

0:19.6

I'll see you there at nine, she said.

0:21.7

I have to get my car from lishes, I said. The good lieutenant had once again arranged a lift for us in the

0:27.1

back of a squad car, leaving me stranded. Then I guess you'll have to get up extra early, she said,

0:32.0

not understanding me. She closed the door before I could protest further and was gone. I looked at

0:37.1

my wristwatch.

0:38.4

10.15. Never let it be said that the cops don't know how to waste my time. I hoofed it north towards

0:44.6

my apartment where I would buy myself a drink and call it a day. It took a while to get there,

0:49.2

so I made it two, or possibly five. I hate getting up at the same time as everybody else.

0:55.6

Whatever I'd consumed the night before, it wasn't enough to keep me in bed.

0:59.8

I would have been prepared to swear that I had drank less than the decline in the level of brown liquor left in the bottle might suggest,

1:06.0

but since I was resolutely alone, my best alternate theory is that I was plagued by alcoholic shoemaker's

1:12.0

elves, which seemed somehow unlikely. The point is that I didn't have a real hangover,

1:18.4

and that wasn't why I hated getting up at that hour. Getting up was fine. Being up,

1:23.5

going anywhere at the same time that the rest of the city was going somewhere else, that was my problem.

1:29.1

Early, late didn't much matter to me.

1:31.8

I just disliked breaking stride constantly to keep from knocking people over,

1:35.7

and for some reason the general populace was too self-involved to scamper obligingly out of my way.

1:41.8

Maybe it was because it was a work day and they were all in character, ready

1:45.0

to play whomever they were supposed to be. They were important, and I was not frightening enough

1:50.0

to break them from that comfortable illusion. Perhaps I should invest in an eye patch.

...

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