This blog is run by two amateurs who believe that what they have seen on TV is enough to qualify them as actual Private Detectives; In fact, they have neither the qualifications or experience to make any actual accusations; instead all material is purely speculative. Any accusations made--especially of celebrities--should be taken in good fun and in no way are intended as slanderous or even genuine.
The cases are real, ripped from the headlines of Boston Papers, and from any other Bostonian sources. The names of some people or places may be changed either for protection, or because they sound cooler that way. The main sources of information are public, but the deductions and all other material are our own, copyright Grahame Turner and Peter Franklin; by reading any part of this page, you are agreeing to share any profits made from any insights or material herein with the authors--this includes police rewards. If you wish to quote or reprint any part of this blog, seek written permission from either writer. Comment on that entry and they will e-mail you with more information. Obviously, not reading this disclaimer is not an excuse.
As the purpose is humor, we request that any offense taken be directed into navigating away from this page; if you don't want to read it, no one is forcing you.
Side effects may include: Post-modernism, Increased Flow of '30s slang, dizziness while standing, and thoughts of Alien Nazi conspiracy. These are perfectly normal, but if you are concerned, consult your local sawbones.
About this Blog
How did this blog get started? Read on and find out:
Boston, Massachusetts. A city of education, history, and recently, of fire. I saw the story in the day's paper, and it captured my imagination like an inhumane bear trap: Five arsons in my home of Jamaica Plain, a neighborhood as wild as the Jurassic era. The most recent, an auto body shop I had passed once or twice on foot. A few minutes of research later, it hit me like the blonde girl I called "sweet cheeks" the other day. I contacted Peter Franklin, the man who would be my partner, and filled him in on the details: there was a $5000 reward for this guy. Franklin pointed out that we would need a few things, such as vices, fedoras and an office. The porch was recently set up, so i suggested we start there. What follows is a record of our logs, case notes and meeting minutes.
I knew that tracking the perp down would be a difficult task, like playing Guess Who with a phone book, but I knew that between us we had seen enough police dramas and detective films that we just might be able to pull it off.
Guess this is where I come in. Franklin's the name. Turner and I did some work back in the English department at NU. Mostly Victorian in nature. He contacted me the other day about this arsonist burning up our neighborhood. Reward sounded pretty easy on the ears. Looking at my student loan statement could be deadly for the faint of heart - so I said what the hell. Someone's gotta stick up for the good people of Jamaica Plain. Besides, Centre Street Liquors could be hit next. And then there'd be real hell to pay.
Turner supplied the office space, I'm supplying the vice enablement. Case should be pretty open-shut - what else do you do with cases, after all? Half-shut them? We may be broke, but we ain't stupid.
The Wages of Intrigue
Boston, Massachusetts. A city of education, history, and recently, of fire. I saw the story in the day's paper, and it captured my imagination like an inhumane bear trap: Five arsons in my home of Jamaica Plain, a neighborhood as wild as the Jurassic era. The most recent, an auto body shop I had passed once or twice on foot. A few minutes of research later, it hit me like the blonde girl I called "sweet cheeks" the other day. I contacted Peter Franklin, the man who would be my partner, and filled him in on the details: there was a $5000 reward for this guy. Franklin pointed out that we would need a few things, such as vices, fedoras and an office. The porch was recently set up, so i suggested we start there. What follows is a record of our logs, case notes and meeting minutes.
I knew that tracking the perp down would be a difficult task, like playing Guess Who with a phone book, but I knew that between us we had seen enough police dramas and detective films that we just might be able to pull it off.
Enough of the Arson Holes
Post by Franklin
Turner supplied the office space, I'm supplying the vice enablement. Case should be pretty open-shut - what else do you do with cases, after all? Half-shut them? We may be broke, but we ain't stupid.
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Disclaimer
As the purpose of this blog is humor, we request that any offense taken be directed into navigating away from this page; if you don't want to read it, no one is forcing you.
Side effects may include: Post-modernism, Increased Flow of '30s slang, dizziness while standing, and thoughts of Alien Nazi conspiracy. These are perfectly normal, but if you are concerned, consult your local sawbones.
See the Full Disclaimer for more legal mumbo-jumbo. Obviously, not reading this disclaimer is not an excuse.
Side effects may include: Post-modernism, Increased Flow of '30s slang, dizziness while standing, and thoughts of Alien Nazi conspiracy. These are perfectly normal, but if you are concerned, consult your local sawbones.
See the Full Disclaimer for more legal mumbo-jumbo. Obviously, not reading this disclaimer is not an excuse.
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