Of All The Gin Joints...

Frank wanted to drown his sorrows in the bottom of a liquor bottle. The bar was full, the only free seat was at the piano tucked in the corner of the smoke filled room.

From the shadows a soft female voice whispered at him. ‘Play it Sam, for old time’s sake.’

He didn’t know who Sam was but the voice sounded familiar. He moved the knife and started playing the only tune he knew. (You need to watch this short clip now, if you can)

When he stopped the bar was empty and the girl was gone. The knife was inconveniently lodged into the back of the barman who lay face down in discarded cigarette butts. 

As Frank looked up his eyes met the stare of a newspaper hack; FLASH. Bu@@er…