Dave Archives

August 6, 2007

Dave: Gone with the Euro

"But will I never see you again?" his Mother begged him.

"No," he said, looking upon her with sad fondness, "you've made it clear my work at the European Monetary Union is offensive to you.  But in turn, no longer shall you receive any leftover obsolete currency from the storage vaults -- no more Lire, Drachmas, Pesetas, nor Deutschmarks.  No matter how much I care for you, I cannot hand over any of to you."

"But, not even my beloved French bank notes, my Son? Where shall I go for them?  What shall I do?"

"Dearly, my Dam, I won't give a Franc."

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August 7, 2007

Dave: Them

"You -- you're -- you're one of them?"

The strange man looked down at Robert impassively.

"I can tell -- you tricked me into telling you all I knew!  You -- you tricked me!  And now --?"  He glanced around, eyes frantic.  "Now you'll do me in.  You'll kill me, right here!"

The strange man reached into his pocket.

"I knew it!  I knew it!"  He bit his lip, waiting for the gun shot.

The strange man tossed a five dollar bill into Robert's open hat, and walked away.

"You -- you don't fool me!  You'll still be watching!  You want to know what else I know!  You'll change your face, but you'll be back!"

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August 8, 2007

Dave: Four Words

"Can you keep a secret?  Even from the cops?"

"Depends."  Roger shrugged.  "Depends on the money involved, the risk, and whether I think the world would be better off with the cops knowing about it.  That last doesn't happen often, but it sometimes does."

The man in the rumpled suit bit his lower lip, then nodded.  He leaned over the desk toward Roger.  His breath was old.  He whispered four words.

Roger wasn't sure when he'd stood up, let alone when he'd fired his gun. 

The man looked up at him from the floor and smiled.  "Now -- it's yours to keep."

Roger shot him again.

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August 10, 2007

Dave: Win some, lose some

He couldn't wait to see her face.  In his pocket was the very nice letter from the CEO, congratulating him on his promotion to VP and on the tremendous job was doing in his ever-more-promising career.

Better yet, he'd just gotten an e-mail that morning from his agent.  The publisher had accepted the changes, and The Modern Monday Manager was due to be on the shelves in November, which Christmas sales (and royalty checks) to follow.

He couldn't wait to see her face. 

"Honey!  I'm home!"

"Did you pick up the milk on the way like you said you would?"

Crap.

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August 16, 2007

Dave: Cutting Remarks

"This blade is very sharp, Mr. Donne."

"I believe you."

"It can be used to pierce through to your heart ... or to simply carve off slices of my choosing."

"I said I believed you.  No need to demonstrate, pal."

"I'm not your pal."

"No, no, I guess not.  Though most folks know me a while, they kinda grow to like me."

"I don't intend to know you a while."

"Yeah, kinda figured."

"Though I do have a few hours -- and you -- to kill.  Will you grow on me, Mr. Donne?  Or simply bleed on me?"

"Don't suppose you'd rather go out for a beer?"

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August 20, 2007

Dave: If This Be Dinner ...

"So you finally beat him." Doctor Dread put down his wine glass.  The table was set with finery from a hundred heists.

"Simple enough," said the White Widow.  "Omegaman thought I was still using those old Mark V Dreadbots you sold me a in '03.  He had no idea I'd upgraded.  When those terawatt lasers hit ..."

"Then you left his head on the doorstep of Team Justice's HQ.  Nice.  But what about the rest of his body?"

A small smile played on her face, "Oh, I'm dealing with that a bit at a time."  She paused over the carving board.  "White meat or dark?"

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August 21, 2007

Dave: Long Day, Long Night

Roger slumped into the wingback chair.  He'd been all over town searching for the vase -- including chasing Tony Marcozzi a good mile over a couple of the city's tallest hills before finding out that Tony didn't really know anything involved in the case.

He pondered staggering to the kitchen to grab a Schlitz -- but the fact was, he didn't want to do anything that involved standing, moving, or not just sitting there quietly in the parlor's twilight gloom.

The front door opened and Chrys was looming there, grocery bags in hand. "Honey?  What are you doing?  Mother is going to be here in thirty minutes!"

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August 29, 2007

Dave: The Empty Room

"I hate locked room mysteries," Chrys pouted.

Roger shrugged.

"I mean it!  And you know why?"

Roger shrugged again.  He'd heard it before, but he certainly wasn't going to interrupt her.  Once was enough.

"Because they're never the 'mystery' people think they are.  Haunts.  Faeries. Magicians. Psychics.  Demons."

"Deities," Roger suggested.

"Oh, yes, deities.  And that's not even counting half my family.  And all of a thousand flavors and homelands.  It's a wonder anyone vanishes from an unlocked room."

Roger let her voice fade into the background as his eyes started taking in details of the chamber from which Mr. Duffy had disappeared last night, screaming.

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September 7, 2007

Dave: The Fumbled Winter

"Notice anything odd about the weather, dear?"

Roger shook his head, brushing the snow off his overcoat, and hanging it up on the coat rack.  "Can't say I have, why?"

"Well, it's July."

"Right"

"And we live in San Francisco."

"Last I checked."

"And all this snow ...."

"Twain said the coldest winter he'd ever spent was summer in San Francisco."

"Yes, but -- and nobody seems to think it odd.  Including you."

Roger scratched his head, then shrugged. 

"And then there are those Valkyries in the sky."

Roger laughed.  "Chrys, if you wore one of those brass bras in this cold, you'd be screeching, too."

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September 10, 2007

Dave: The Heart Has Its Reasons

"They got stuff, I want it, I take it.  Why should they have it and me not, y'know?"

Eddie took the proferred bottle from Luis.  "Nah.  I mean, I know what's right, what's wrong. I don't got no right to take stuff from folks, and hurt 'em. But the way it makes the ladies look at me, y'know?  It's a badge of respect.  That's how I look at it."  He glanced over at TJ.  "What about you, TJ?"

TJ looked at the others, then calmly put three rounds into each of them.  He took the bottle and drank deeply from it.  "I just like to watch folks bleed."

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