America’s Great Lost Genres: Last-to-First Fiction

Stanley McKlintock was not your ordinary homicide detective. Detective being the rank in which he currently held at the precinct. Precinct 14, Harlem Division, was where Stanley was stationed for his lastest investigation. Investigation work was his passion. Passion was what sometimes got him into trouble.

"Trouble" was the nickname Stanley's grandmother had for him when he was young. Young, being what he no longer was. Was he ever to solve this difficult crime? Crime was hard to prove. Prove it, Stanley McKlintock will do.

"Do you know where the suspect is hiding?" Stanley asked his partner, Newt Fulbourne. Fulbourne was very bright. Bright and smarter that average. Average was not a thing for Newt.

Newt knew who had done the stabbing. Stabbing was often bloody. Bloody was this particular scene. Scence 247.8 was how Stanley and Newt labeled the evidence file, which they used to identify the killer. Killer Bill, the famous serial killer, was linked to this crime because bright and smart detectives had solved it. It was easy. Easy as a Sunday morning.

Morning came and the two detectives presented their findings to the station. Station 107.9 FM quietly played a Bon Jovi song on the radio while Stanley and Newt filled everyone in. "In a moment," Stanley continued, "we will show you the sword that Killer Bill used in his last and final crime. Crime is a bad thing, Gentlemen. Gentlemen, the initials KB were found on the tip of the hilt of the sword. Sword damage to the victim was most severe. Severe punishment shall befall the man who did this, a man by the name of Killer Bill!"

Bill, the killer of the victim, entered the room looking defeated. "Defeated me this time you did detectives, but I'll be back sometime soon. Soon as you can possibly imagine. Imagine I do this again!?" Killer Bill shouted.

Shouted was the last thing Killer Bill did before being locked up, probably for life. Life is what he had taken. Taken was he, for a fool. Fool around as a free man he was to never do again.

Again, Stanley McKlintock had solved the difficult crime. Crime was what he had no stomach for. For he was a good man.