Theory of a Deadman.

Disclaimer - All characters are property of Joss Whedon and the like, I make no profit from this, just occasionally one hell of a laugh.

Author's notes - This is supposed to me a non comical parody of the detective stories of old... Give it a shot and tell me what you think...





In a seedy back street in this hole of Sunnydale she came to me. She crept into my office, too scared to say a word. A glass of bourbon in my hand, a solitary ice cube chinked against the glass. I leaned back in my chair pushing my hair out of my eyes. She was so captivating, it didn’t matter if she said a word, I could watch her sit there all night. The rain battered against the window in the dark, the cold was weaving through the frame so much that my breath hung in the air as I spoke.

“So, Miss…” I looked her over, her blonde hair covered with a broad rimmed hat, her eyes hidden behind dark glasses. It was night time for Christ sakes, what had she got to hide from me? A Long trench coat hid any clue of the body beneath.

“It’s Mrs.” She played with a handkerchief in her hands.

“My apologies. Mrs…” She removed her glasses; her striking green eyes were glistening with unshed tears. I’m sure my mouth was open, but she still looked me dead in the eye.

“My name, is Mrs Harris.” She tried to avoid my gaze by glancing at the window.

“Well, Mrs Harris. What brings you to my office?” I placed the empty glass down on the desk.

“Do you always drink on the job Ms.Lehane?” My scowl quickly convinced her to change the subject. “I’m here because I need your help. It’s my husband, Alexander. He’s been acting strange for weeks now. He’s never around, and when he is he always ignores me. I think he’s,” She paused to choke back a sob. “I think he’s seeing another woman.” She covered her mouth with the cloth and hung her head.

I sat up straight this time. I hated it when broads cried, but she was different. She looked so fragile, a single touch and she’d shatter. Could this man mean that much to her? I pulled a packet of smokes out of my drawer, I offered her the packet. Taking one I handed over my lighter.

“So what do you want me to do Mrs. Harris?” Slowly I drew one out of the pack. As I lit the end I gritted my teeth as smoke filled my mouth.

“I want, I need to know. I love my husband dearly, but I just couldn’t live knowing that there’s someone else.” She drew deeply on the cigarette to save her from choking on another cry.

I truly felt sorry for this one. Since I started this business, all I’ve had were people trying to rat out their lovers, or lewd businessmen trying to out another. Some had their perks, but I was getting sick to the back teeth of all the suspicious fella’s in this god forsaken town. But the end of the day, girl has to eat, rent gotta be paid.

“I’ll do my best m’am. Look, here’s my card with my numbers on it. Call me if you need to. Meanwhile, I’ll see what I can do about this husband of yours.” I handed her the small card, as she reached over I cupped her hand in both of mine. “Truly, if you need anything Mrs. Harris. Don’t hesitate to call.” I tried to smile sincerely, but in the dank of my office I doubt she saw.

“Thank you Ms.Lahane. For everything.” Her eyes finally caught mine, the tears were gone. Left behind were two endless pools of green, almost lost in the moment I tried to salvage whatever dignity I had left.

“My pleasure.” She turned to leave. As her hand fell to the door knob I called over, “You can call me Faith, Ms.Lehane sounds so,”

“Proper?” She cut me off. I gulped down the rest of my sentence. “This is a contract Ms.Lehane. It has to be proper, as do I. Goodnight.”

She never even turned to look at me, she just left. I’d seen some things in my time here in this hole of a town. But she took the cake. The random disappearances, even the strange occasional murder. It made for a lot of work on my part; I guess that’s why I started this business. Private investigators can get a lot of cash in a place like this. But none of them filled me with this sickening feeling of foreboding, not like this one.

It was getting late, a good nights sleep for an early start. I really didn’t know what I wanted from this one. I grabbed my coat, locking the door I left the damp building out into the rain soaked streets. If the guy wasn’t cheating on the girl, she goes back to her happy little marriage. And if the guy is, she’ll be crushed and all alone. Why am I even thinking about this? Sure I don’t want the girl to end up on her own in a town like this. But why would I be bothered if the guys not playing away? Get yourself together Lehane – its about time you kicked these very bad habits.

The street lights flickered in the rain, somewhere in the distance a siren could be heard. I stood outside my apartment block, the Italians were arguing with the Mexicans again. Barking dogs and smashing glass was the nightly lullaby I had to sleep to. One of these days I’ll make enough to buy a house down in the suburbs, find myself a tidy little home and live the life I came here for.

I lay up in bed supping on a nightcap while half a cigarette burnt away in the ashtray. In my tiny apartment the pipes could be heard rattling behind the walls, it wasn’t much. But it was home for now. I was looking over the information Mrs. Harris had given to me. Looked like this guy was part of the construction crew for this new road they were laying down. Something called a freeway, just a faster way for people to get into this damn city.

He was supposed to be at the site for nine and he was supposed to leave at dusk. In this dark town that could have been anytime after three in the afternoon. Guess I had my work cut out with this one. I dropped the papers on the floor, taking a large mouthful of the amber liquid to my side I sighed out. I’d give anything these day’s for a natural night’s sleep, all this alcohol just to knock myself out. One day, one day I’ll buy that house, with my big bed and all those pillows.

I smiled to myself dragging on the remains of the smoke in the tray, I was about to give up and try to sleep when the phone in my apartment rang.

“Hello,” My voice was raspy and dry from the mixture of tobacco and whiskey. A quiet soft voice on the other end replied.

“Ms. Lehane?” I had no idea who it was; I couldn’t place the voice, “Faith? Is that you?”

The penny at the back of my mind dropped, “Mrs. Harris?”

“It’s Elizabeth, but my friends call me Buffy.” I smiled down the phone she still sounded so defenceless.

“Well Elizabeth, what brings you to call me at such a late hour?” I pulled the stool closer to the phone as I sat listening to her little voice down the wire.

“It’s Alexander, he’s not come home yet. I’m not worried, I’m just, I don’t like feeling alone is all. I hope I’m not keeping you up with such nonsense.”

I grinned whilst taking a drag on the smoke, there was more to this one than met the eye. I was sure of it.