He was gone.
Tall guy, fedora, trench coat. You must’ve seen him. Usually smoking. He was always hanging around, poking his nose where it didn’t belong and usually getting it punched.
A real wisenheimer, too, always cracking wise.
You see him, you call. And if I find out you’ve been holding back…
If you don’t miss that kind of patois, you’re either too young to remember it, or you’ve got a tin ear. God knows, I miss it.
Back in May, some of you might remember I interviewed Road to Perdition author Max Allan Collins (http://www.soundonsight.org/max-allan-collins-road-to-perdition-on-carrying-on-mickey-spillanes-legacy/). A lot of the discussion had to do with his connection with one of the giants of private eye fiction,