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Wayne Greenough


If you read enough of Wayne Greenough’s  stories you might correctly assume he is a collector of comic book memorabilia, radio programs from the ‘40’s  and that he is a little around the bend and should wear a tight fitting white coat.  Yes, he should.

Email : waynegreenough@gmail.com

Website : http://www.waynegreenough.com

The Private Eye Murders

Written By: Wayne Greenough
Series: Thanet Blake Private Detective #2
Published By: Devine Destinies
Heat Level:

Guys like Marlowe and Spade like murder cases. I don’t. I make it a point to hide from them. Too often, they...

An hour later, over bacon, eggs, toast, and coffee for the both of us, Jennifer began talking. “Thanet, you’ve been on my mind since I helped you solve The Ferguson Murder.”

I gagged on my coffee over that one. She reached over and tapped my left shoulder. “Don’t worry. I didn’t mean it that way. You’re too old for me. I am nineteen. Do you know I’ve been following you for days?”

“No, I didn’t know. You’re kidding me, aren’t you?”

“Here you are, a private eye, and you don’t know when you’re being tailed? How come, when this city is being quickly emptied of people of your profession?”

I smiled at her before saying, “You’re right. Thanks for calling what I do a profession, by the way. Now, Jennifer, why are you sitting across the breakfast table from me, and do your mother and father know you’re here? If they do, how good of a shot is your father?”

“My parents think I’m downtown shopping and Father’s an expert shot with his Mauser Broomhandle. As to why I’m here, I’m doing research work for my third detective novel I’ve titled, The Inept Detective. It’s going to be about a private eye that knows nothing about solving murder cases. He’s always about ready to be offed by some bad guy. He can’t shoot, knows nothing about detection…in fact, he couldn’t even apprehend a cold. Oh, and everybody around him gets offed, which is handy for him simply because if there is only one person left alive, then that person is the guilty person. That’s the plot. What do you think? Do you like it?”

“It sounds great, Jennifer, and also a little familiar. How did you think of the title?”

“It just popped into my head one night, shortly after I did that computer work for you. Are you sure it sounds familiar? Gee, I thought it was an original idea.”

She finished her coffee. I poured seconds for both of us and stared at the kid sitting across the table from me. She wasn’t more than five feet tall, ninety-five pounds dripping wet, and with an intelligence quotient that had to be up there in lights. She was terrific.

“The police hired you to look into the private detective offings. Never mind how I found out they had, just tell me about it.”

It took two full hours. Jennifer asked a million questions and wanted every minute detail. She suggested I write some things down. I did. As a result, we drank lots of coffee and even had a light lunch.

“You’re obviously missing some vital clues, Thanet. Think through everything again.” She kissed my cheek and left.

 

I did a lot of thinking while driving to my office. As I parked the old ‘56 Ford in the parking lot, my brain was busy lining up what I thought might be clues. As I walked the six blocks to my home away from home, things were beginning to make sense. As I opened my squeaking office door, I knew the offer’s identity for about two seconds before someone sapped me on the head.

 

I don’t know how long I was out, but I do know it was long enough for me to be stripped naked, draped flat on my desktop with my hands and feet tied to the desk’s legs. A scent of perfume invaded my nostrils, one I recognized. I opened my peepers and saw a completely naked Dusty. She was holding two silver-plated, ivory-handled, engraved Colt .45 automatics and wearing three inch stiletto shoes. She was gorgeous—and deadly.

Guys like Marlowe and Spade like murder cases. I don’t. I make it a point to hide from them. Too often, they find me.
 
 
 
Some people are convinced that Private Eye Thanet Blake is a social pariah. Others believe having contact with him insures them of having a short life. A few are convinced he works for the city’s mortuaries and drives a hearse.
When Captain Holt of the Police Department informs Blake that PI’s are being offed by an unknown person, he asks Blake for help. “We don’t have a single clue as to who is doing the offing. We need your help to do some nosing around for us, come up with clues that will lead us to the perp. I’ll even put you on the payroll.”
That starts another murder mystery for Thanet Blake, the shamus who hates murder cases because too many of his friends end up dead, or forever hurt. Who will he lose this time?
Price: $3.99
The Space Gypsies

Written By: Wayne Greenough
Published By: Devine Destinies
Heat Level:

Is there a world, anywhere in the universe, for The Space Gypsies?   The Valdarian Double Star System...

As Derek paused, Bbril Aaeronus spoke. “What you have said about some of us living to see our solar systems being trapped by the black hole is mind-boggling, unless the entrapment is two thousand Tian years away. That is the current belief of many Celestial Wisdom Finders who just finished conducting their own research. I’m sure you also discovered the same along with your two hundred year conclusion.”

“True, I did. So which one do we accept? Dare we to wait to see if we become trapped in two centuries?”

Small, excited Darlk from planet Damal spoke with a disquieting hiss. “I would like to say that Damal has traditionally studied the stars and planets. We have recorded all the asteroids in the twin solar systems and know that Valdaria A has a larger asteroid belt than Valdaria B. But what is the consumption rate of your shipworlds? And define consumption for us. How do they eat?”

“The shipworlds dissolve the asteroids then absorb them until they reach a certain programmed size. At that time, all growth and body functions will become dormant, giving us a chance to enter the shipworlds to begin our work.”

Derek paused. He sipped water and hoped he was being understood. Clearing his throat he continued.

“A secondary power supply will be installed first, not only to propel the ship for solar system travel, but to act as a highly regulated and unlimited food supply for the shipworlds. At first, fuel for this secondary propulsion system will be the type we now use. It will eventually be refined from the deuterium used in the main reaction engines when they become installed.

“From the asteroid calculations you sent Tia some months ago, Tia’s Celestial Wisdom Finders were able to conclude that the asteroid belt encircling Valdaria A would be an adequate food supply for a thousand shipworlds.”

For the next few seconds, Derek studied the doubtful expressions of the seven. “I know you think this is nothing but a wild theory spawned by a young Head Council who suffers from more than a touch of madness. Well, perhaps you are right. But thanks to my ingenuity, we have shipworlds growing from human cells.”

“Human?” Bbril Aaeronus interjected. “Whose, might I ask?”

“Mine.”

“Ego,” mumbled Dak Marr.

“I agree. But they are hardly my cells anymore. Energy beams have sliced them into sections again and again. Each time the organism matured, it had altered into something else. I altered my cells, thousands of times, then millions, until I achieved what I wanted—a cell that would grow into a shipworld.”

“And the many pitiful organisms you did not want? What of them?”

The question came from Hannell Arvella, and he should have expected it. Sweat bathed Derek’s armpits as he admitted, “They were taken care of.”

“Taken care of. Those are polite, proper words for cold blooded termination. You used Valdaria B as a dumping ground for your failures.”

Mentally Derek used a paragraph of ancient oaths. How had Hannell Arvella learned about Valdaria B? Was it from a leak in security? Definitely, that had to be it. Blast his pious sanctimonious beliefs. “Yes, it’s true. The quickest way to eliminate my, as you called them, failures, was to dump them into a star. That way, they were instantly vaporized. They were not failures. They were successes. I gained much wisdom from them. I learned. I perfected.”

“It is still termination. And all life is precious.”

“Oh Lord! We all terminate.”

“I do not. I never have. I never will.”

Bbril interrupted. “Gentlemen, your philosophical argument is pointless and stupid. Derek Rawn, you have an interesting hypothesis, growing shipworlds from cells. Perfected, you say. I find it impossible to believe the word perfected.”

“Perhaps you are right, Bbril Aaeronus. Near perfection is perhaps a better description of the accomplishment I am about to show all of you.”

Derek led the way. It was a brief walk to a huge red square, surrounded by superb Tian architecture. The delicate appearing but incredibly tough crystal buildings reached upward to claw aside the sky, to declare that Tia was a world of super cities, the technological center of the ten planets.

Derek spoke into his wrist communicator. “We are ready.”

A claxon sounded, then a voice. “Clear the area. A ship is about to land. Clear the area.”

“A ship, landing here, when it is so populated?”

“Yes, Bbril Aaeronus, in less than a minute. We are ready, Pagan. You may land now.”

With a roar that threatened to rent a jagged hole in the blue afternoon sky, a spaceship streaked into view, to hover briefly like a giant bird searching for a roost. Then down it came, a gleaming silver needle with wings and tail fins. It belched fire and thunder from its braking rockets as it made a weightless landing.

“Gentlemen, what you see before you is Pagan, a tiny, but nonetheless, perfect example of our future spaceships.”

“Thank you, Derek.”

Bbril Aaeronus’ voice was saturated with awe. “It spoke to you! And you named it Pagan?”

“As a matter of fact, he named himself.”

“You called this ship a he?” protested giant sized Besmart Tou, from planet Bela. “Next you will be telling us, he is alive.”

“I am,” said Pagan. “I started out as one cell. Just as the Galactic Lord programmed your cells into becoming you, Derek programmed my cells into becoming me. Furthermore, if I am damaged I have the ability to heal myself.”

Bbril Aaeronus stared at Derek. “That is very interesting, Pagan’s healing ability. Can that be developed for us?”

“I believe so. My Wisdom Finders feel certain an injection can be perfected which will allow us to heal faster and resist diseases better. They are also experimenting with a form of immortality. At the age of three hundred and fifty, we enter The Beyond. One of our cells could be thawed out and stimulated into growing. Think Gentlemen, everybody could live over and over again, for all eternity.”

“Surely, you do not mean cells for everybody,” said Bbril.

Is there a world, anywhere in the universe, for The Space Gypsies?
 
The Valdarian Double Star System will go into a black hole in two Tian centuries. Because of that, ten billion people will enter The Beyond. Is there any escape for them? Derek Rawn thinks so. In fact Derek Rawn knows so.
Price: $5.99
The Two Champions

Written By: Wayne Greenough
Published By: Devine Destinies

Two ninth graders set out to solve a mysterious problem in their school.     Somebody calling...
Two ninth graders set out to solve a mysterious problem in their school.    

Somebody calling himself, The Phantom Marker is writing bad poetry as he marks up the school’s hallways. The Principal thinks Tate and Mountain are the guilty people. They set out to prove the Principal is wrong by attempting to capture The Phantom Marker.