Double dealing... and poker mishaps from 1977...

This case is very personal to me. Because it happened to me...

Exactly 32 years ago I lost a hand at black jack aboard a river casino... but something was as fishy as the waters beneath us. I looked around but couldn't figure it out... was someone at the table cheating?

It never occurred to me that it might be the dealer... but then he dealt me a whole stack of evidence when I saw him at his retirement home last Sunday. He was talking to another old man... who looked like a crime boss. I should know a fiery old criminal when I see one... my name's Henry Flame.

I approached the old dealer.

"You cheated me old man! You cheated me for the mob!"

He stared at me sullenly... or maybe it was confusedly... I think it was confusedly.

"What?"

"You cheated me! You cheated me at black jack!"

"I don't think I did... I haven't played black jack for..."

"32 years." I finished his thought. 1977 was my year.

Anyway, I yelled at him for a while, and finally he coughed up the $5 he cheated me out of so long ago... he claims he doesn't remember... he also claims that I'm a mad man for holding a ridiculous grudge for 32 years.

Is it a grudge? Or is it justice.

My crime solving streak continued... The fall of Roman... only leads to my success.

Those were the days...

I'm getting too old for this shit.

You shoulda seen me in 1977, no one could lay a finger on me. I was catching criminals left and right...

So why am I so obsessed with 1977? A lot of people ask me that.

Easy.

I like to relive my glory days... and no one can argue that 1977 wasn't the greatest year of all time... you argue with me I'll show you the film Star Wars and the series Roots.

Damn it was good...

And the crimes were just as juicy... you don't get crimes like these anymore. Now all the crimes are things like "Who wrote something stupid no facebook about Obama?" and "Who hacked into my twitter account?"

There's just no use for a P.I. these days... so I ply my trade to a year that matters... 1977. Justice will be had for 1977.

The cat's out of the bag... the stolen cat from 1977 that is...

This has been a productive week. But it seems that every week is productive when you're Henry Flame, Private Eye. I solved the case of where Mittens went... the Jones' family cat lost in Fargo, ND back in Sept. '77.

Here's a glimpse of the femme fatale feline:

That's right. It took a bit of work, but soon I realized that I should ask the neighborhood. Most of them had no idea what I was talking about... or weren't born yet... but I never gave up. No mystery should remain unsolved.

Then it hit me. Pet cemetery. Only a few places in this world to take a feline to the afterlife... and pet cemetery is the main one. I went there... and lo and behold one grave was engraved with "Mittens. We loved you well. Even though we stole you from the Jones'"

It was so simple!

Well I found the Jones family, they'd relocated to Idaho... probably from mourning so much, and let them know.

They didn't seem to really care, and they kept telling me that it happened 32 years ago... why did I care so much.

Why indeed... but that's just another day for Henry Flame. Unappreciative clients... get over it Henry... it's just Kitten-town.

I'm a Swiss Army Knife of Wit! Adios Roman.

It was a grueling 32 years... but my coup de gras is complete. It's a tough life being Henry Flame, Private Investigator of crimes that happened in 1977... but it's the only life I know. And today that life seemed pretty damn good.

That's right. I finally caught Roman Polanski... the man I've been tracking for 32 years for charges of statuatory rape... look at his stupid face:


And how'd I do it? Well... it's ironic... I call myself the Swiss Army Knife of Wit. Different pieces of my intellect and insight on criminals are used depending on the situation... and this time my Swiss intellect was pulled in Switzerland. Strange? No. Nothings strange when you're Henry Flame, P.I.

Basically I heard that he was going to Switzerland so I waited at the border and caught him... sound easy and you wonder why no one hasn't just done that before? Well he's a tricky fish.

Also ironic that I've based my entire life emulating Roman's film Chinatown. But that's just the way it is.

They say Roman wasn't caught in a day... no... it took 32 years, including once when I bribed the academy to give him an award... to lure him here. No dice. But since catching him I've been solving other mysteries from 1977. And I've been making a killing. So I figured I'd track them all here, while the going's still strong.

When in Roman... am I right?


God... I kill myself.