I'd like to make a full story/book out of this, but that's not my intention as of right now. I just wanted to give the writing and dialogue style a shot. I didn't want any focus on story or anything, this was just for purposes of working on and working out dialogue and inner monologue. Anyhoo, here you go. Sorry for formatting, this type of stuff is always wonky on forums.
December 6, 1933
There's nothin' like a cold night in New York to let a guy appreciate his furnace. The raindrops tapping on the windows damn near put me to sleep right there at the desk in my office. It was nearing the end of a long and uneventful day – all the bad eggs must have been too cold to go outside, leaving me to all to my lonesome. Normally, I don't have this kind of spare time, but when I do, there are two things I wet my whistle with: women and whiskey. One of those things was sitting on my desk, and I wish I could tell you it was a woman. I was just about to pour a glass of the city's finest bootleg when I heard a knock at the door.
“Johnnie! Johnnie Wright, you in there?”
I answered just loud enough he could hear me through the door. “Who's askin'?
“MacLemore!”
Sergeant MacLemore, from the police department. I hadn't talked to him since I left the service to become a private detective about a year ago. We didn't have any beef, but we weren't friends, either.
“At your service!”
The door swung open and MacLemore walked in. He tossed a newspaper on my desk. “You haven't been outside all day, have you?” he asked. “This was sittin' outside your front door.”
I looked up at him and shook my head. “Business is slow. Care to join me for a drink?”
He eyed the bottle on my desk. “Jesus,” he muttered. “You still drinkin' that coffin varnish?”
“I got it from the dame that runs the juice joint next door. Spilled a glass yesterday, took some paint off the desk.”
He chuckled, then sat down across from me. “Sounds like my cup of tea.”
“Great.” I poured him a glass and slid it across the desk toward him. “Now, I know you well enough to know you didn't come in here to bump gums, so I'd be a fool if I didn't think you were about to ask me for help.”
He hesitated for a moment. “Look,” he started. “You're the best private dick around...”
“No, no, you're the dick. That's why I left the service.”
“Always the wiseguy. You gonna hear me out or not?”
“Yeah, yeah, sorry, go ahead.”
“Some of the guys at the station are strung out pretty bad. Word is they're bringin' in dope, but I can't figure out where it's coming from. I think I might have a dirty cop or two workin' for me.”
“It's New York, I'd be surprised if you had a clean cop workin' for you.”
He scowled at me again. To be honest, I'd already made up my mind; I needed the dough just as much as the next guy, but it was instinct for me to pick on him.
“Okay, fine,” I said. “But why don't you do somethin' about it? It's your job.”
“I can't have 'em suspecting anything. You're good, Wright. You can get close without gettin' close, ya know? And you do it better than anyone in the business. They won't suspect it. But they will suspect me.”
I leaned back in my chair and pretended to think about it for a moment.“Yeah, I'll do it. Ten dollars a day, plus any fees or expenses I might incur.”
“Ten dollars? Since when did you start workin' for peanuts?”
“Same time everyone else did, when the market crashed.”
MacLemore nodded, then stood up. “That's a fair price. Consider yourself hired. Oh, and maybe when we get this taken care of I'll buy you a drink next door. We can get caught up.”
“Yeah, that'd be alright.”
He made his way to the door, but before he left, he stopped and turned back around. “Oh, and merry Christmas.”
The door shut behind him, and I picked up the newspaper he left me. I pulled the string off and unrolled the paper to lay eyes on the latest headline.
PROHIBITION REPEAL IS RATIFIED AT 5:32 P.M.; ROOSEVELT ASKS NATION TO BAR THE SALOON; NEW YORK CELEBRATES WITH QUIET RESTRAINT
Merry Christmas, indeed.