“Last week, my father sent me a letter. I was travelling with the Chicago State Circus. The letter reached me in Nevada. We were playing a few gigs in some dust bowl town. It told me to come home at once. When I got to his house, it had been ransacked. There was a ransom note. It read: ‘To whomever finds this note, if you ever wish to see Mr. Hause again, bring $5000 dollars to the meat packing factory on 1st and Foremost. Tonight!’. I just don’t know where I can get my hands on that kind of money. You’re my only hope.”
I agreed to take the case for my standard fee of $20 a day plus expenses and a bunch of bananas.
“Why the bananas?” She asked.
“If you’re dealing with gorillas, you bring bananas” I said cryptically. Truth is – I just really like bananas.
She slung her beard over her shoulder and turned to leave. It’s ginger threads glistened in the shafts of sunlight that had managed to fight their way through my dusty blinds.
“I’ll be in touch.” She said.

I couldn’t wait.