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    Deal or No Deal?: The Midnight Eye Files, #0
    Deal or No Deal?: The Midnight Eye Files, #0
    Deal or No Deal?: The Midnight Eye Files, #0
    Ebook67 pages58 minutesThe Midnight Eye Files

    Deal or No Deal?: The Midnight Eye Files, #0

    By William Meikle

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    Three beers and a packet of crisps is a tempting offer for your soul when you don't really believe you have one. But when it comes time to pay up, suddenly it doesn't seem like such a sweet deal. You're going to need help, but who are you going to call?

    There's one man who might help, a man who knows the nature of deals with the dark side, and the ways of the old city.

    Derek Adams, the Midnight Eye, is on the case...

    Deal or No Deal? is a case from William Meikle's gripping urban fantasy/noir detective series, The Midnight Eye Files. The mysteries continue in volume one: The Amulet.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherGryphonwood Press
    Release dateMay 26, 2017
    ISBN9781386363774
    Deal or No Deal?: The Midnight Eye Files, #0
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    Author

    William Meikle

    William Meikle is a Scottish genre writer now living in Newfoundland. His catalog includes over thirty five professional short story sales and twenty novels. His work encompasses a variety of genres, including Creature Features, Occult Detectives, Lovecraftian stories, Vampires, Sword and Sorcery, Scottish Fiction, and Science Fiction. Visit him on the web at www.williammeikle.com.

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      Book preview

      Deal or No Deal? - William Meikle

      Three beers and a packet of crisps is a tempting offer for your soul when you don't really believe you have one. But when it comes time to pay up, suddenly it doesn't seem like such a sweet deal. You're going to need help, but who are you going to call?

      There's one man who might help, a man who knows the nature of deals with the dark side, and the ways of the old city.

      Derek Adams, the Midnight Eye, is on the case...

      Deal or No Deal? is a case from William Meikle’s gripping urban fantasy/noir detective series, The Midnight Eye Files. The mysteries continue in volume one: The Amulet.

      Deal or No Deal? A Case from the Midnight Eye Files

      Copyright © 2017 by William Meikle

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author.

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

      Gryphonwood Press

      www.gryphonwoodpress.com

      1

      He stood on my doorstep waiting for me. If he had second thoughts, it would have been then, for I was carrying essential groceries, namely two bottles of The Famous Grouse and six cans of McEwan's Export. The fact that I'd made the journey for them in the pouring rain should have told him all he needed to know about my state of mind. But I've been in this business long enough to know that some clients are desperate by the time they have to turn to me, desperate enough to ignore my vices, and if my supply of booze caused him any concern, he didn't show it.

      He had to have been waiting for a while; he hadn't been out in the rain, and was tucked right in the corner of the doorway, sheltered from the brunt of the downpour. He looked almost dry compared to my impersonation of a drowned rat. But I had run out of booze and smokes in the middle of an afternoon when I wasn't working; what's a man to do?

      I let him in the street door and he followed me up the stairs, right at my back as if afraid I might escape. I purposefully didn't turn to get a better look at him until I shucked off my coat. It started dripping on the carpet as soon as I hung it on the hook. At least the two packs of Marlboro in the pocket had stayed dry; I'd foraged successfully. All I needed now was pizza, and that was just a phone call away.

      My visitor hadn't spoken yet. He didn't need to; as soon as I turned around for a good look I knew I didn't like him, wasn't going to like him tomorrow, wasn't going to like him in a year's time. My auld ma would have called him prissy; me, I preferred an old Glasgow term; bawbag.

      He was in his late forties at a guess, going gray at the temples, staving off baldness with a comb-over sculpted to within an inch of its life with gel. Either that, or his cologne, gave off a whiff that nearly, but not quite, masked more than a hint of stale sweat and fear. His thin mustache could have been drawn on with a dark pencil, his dark wool suit cost more than I'd made in a couple of months, his smile was too fake and his hand too clammy when he offered me a handshake.

      Fraser McDougall the third, he said.

      I resisted the urge to ask after the other two. I didn't like him; but I liked the smell of his money well enough. I motioned him to the chair across the desk. He tried to brush it clean with his hand before sitting. I could have told him it was a lost cause; some of that dirt had been there when I bought it. Eventually he took the hint and sat. I got out a Marlboro and lit up; I didn't offer him one, guessing it wasn't his style. He proved me right by taking out a silver case and extracting a pencil thin cheroot that, when lit, made my office smell like a Turkish brothel. It was still better than my damp coat or his hair gel though.

      I resisted the urge to open one of the bottles of scotch, settled back in my chair, and waited for his spiel. It wasn't long in coming.

      "You must understand, this matter will have to be handled most discreetly," he began.

      Discreet is my middle name. Right after Derek and right before...

      He put up a hand to stop me, and dropped the

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