Detective Marco Roshinski

Reformed Burglar

Equipped Inventory

Three years in the big house for armed robbery. For what? A six-pack and carton o' smokes. The inside's nice and safe, as long as you don't talk, but it took me just a little too long to figure that one out. Me and Nabokov didn't exactly see eye to eye, but he sure taught me when to keep my trap shut. That's the last time I turn stoolie on anyone who's got bigger stones than me, and believe me, there's plenty of 'em.

Still, most of the bright ones never end up inside, and so now I gots a nice litle gig. They leave somethin' behind - a little of this, a litte o' that; and I can put two and two together. Mostly, they comes quietly once I gets 'em fingered. Sometimes, it pays to pack heat. Just don't clue my P.O. What he don't know, don't hurt him, says me.

And then there was Audrey. What a dame! She had a mind like a steel trap and curves from here to Kingdom Come. She said she'd wait for me. Even wrote a coupla times while I was locked up. And like a sap, I believed her. So, I finally gets out, and what? She'd been married two friggin' years to some pinhead with a bankroll and a bodyguard. Women: Who needs 'em? Still, after she bleeds her sugar daddy dry, she'll come crawlin' back. And like the sucker I am, I'll be waitin' for her.

Yeah - I know how to take care of myself. You got a problem with that?

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