“Nemesis: The Case of the Headless Lady” by Nyki Blatchley

July 22, 2012

Post image for “Nemesis: The Case of the Headless Lady” by Nyki Blatchley

Sam Nemesis, private investigator to gods, heroes and monsters, has a tricky case to solve – Medusa the gorgon has been murdered, and her distraught sisters want Sam to find the culprit. But how’s he to track down a wannabe hero punk who seems to have friends in the very highest places? [21 min]

Excerpt

I was hiding in my office when a rap came on the door. I didn’t answer at once, as I had a good idea who it would be. I hadn’t seen a job in months, and Hades had sent his boys rapping on my Stygian Mansions place more than once about the rent I owed.

“Are you there, Mr Nemesis?” a voice called. A dame’s voice. Hades didn’t employ dames to do his dirty work, so I slipped on my shades—you can’t be too careful, in this line of work—and opened the door.

To say it was a slow time was like describing old man Herakles as a bit tough. So I was glad of any action, and gladder when the action came courtesy of two classy dames, with legs right up to their shoulders. Course, the snakes growing from their heads were a bit of a surprise, but they had them in real cute styles. Heh, I’m broad-minded.

Lucky I was wearing my shades, though, or I wouldn’t be here to tell you this. Leastways, I’d be here – permanently, as a statue. Gorgons can be tricky chicks.

“Is this the Nemesis Detective Agency?” asked the taller one. “We’re looking for help.”

“Then you’ve come to the right place, ladies,” I said. “Sam Nemesis at your service. No vengeance too big, no vengeance too small – that’s my motto. And who might you lovely ladies be?”

“I’m Stheino,” said the tall dame. I took the hand she held out. Her nails were almost as long as her fingers, painted blood-red. “This is my sister, Euryale.”

I nodded to the other dame. She was a stunner, too – prettier, but she still smouldered. And I’m not using a figure of speech there.

I offered the ladies a cigarette – Stheino took one, her sister declined – and lit one up myself. “So, what can I do for you?” I asked.

Euryale immediately burst into tears. “It’s our sister,” said Stheino, who didn’t seem far from crying. “She’s been murdered. We want you to get the punk who did it.”

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