Carver Manx -1

Carver Manx – 3


Being friends with a Private Eye who takes the concept of being hard boiled and tough seriously can make my job easy. He plays out the scenario while I just put it down in words. The only problem with that is, it gets dangerously real.

Carver Manx hates anyone who puts a black smudge on his city and would do whatever it took to get rid of the antagonist, Even Boss Madigan. I was having a hard time wondering why Manx was taking up with Calgary’s west end thug but reminded myself that he always has both a motive and ulterior motive tangled up in that mysterious, brilliant mass of grey matter between his ears

The new gang in town called itself The Shadow Raven., a bike gang that came out of nowhere and was taking over, one block at a time. But when it ran into Boss Madigan and his crew of thugs it hit a brick wall. Other city rags were going on about gang wars and why the cops weren’t beating down doors getting a handle on things before the lid blew off. I guess they forget that the real criminals aren’t generally stupid and don’t make it easy for the cops to do their job.

Carver Manx knows how the dark side of life works. He has a way of creeping in on the creeps when he needs to get information and he has his own long arm to reach into places even the cops can’t go without cutting through a dozen ropes of red tape and road blocks that help the bad guys keep to the shadows hiding behind the laws.

But even Manx can’t round up an entire gang for the crime of one or two people and the gang was not about to give up their own. He was going to have to go deep and find a weak link in their chain of secrecy.


The night air was hot and thick with dust blowing in off the prairies. Carver Manx made his way on foot along 8th St. SW toward the corner of 7th Ave. SW to meet up with a creepy little fellow named Sully Mack, aka Little Tin Cup, one of those creatures of the night who’s only goal in life is to get through the next few hours, upright and breathing with enough cash to get a bottle of gin instead of resorting to shoplifted shaving lotion.

Manx was checking out every little shadow where a guy like Sully might be hiding but at that time he was most likely to be holding up where there was lots of pedestrian traffic with his tin cup.

Carver Manx felt sorry for the guy. His history belonged on the front page of every national news paper in the country, along with a few hundred others just like him but never made it. It was easier to ignore them, pretend they were just shadows that vanished in the daylight.

Manx found him cozying up to the rock pile on the corner. The creep was agitated more than usual and ready to run. When he saw Carver Manx instead of running he smiled showing off his brown tobacco stained teeth.

“Hey Mano.” He greeted in a weak, sorry voice. “I could use a buck or two but I ain’t got nothing to tell you.”

“Sure you do Sully. You just don’t know it yet.”

“I don’t need no more near death experiences Mano. I got enough of them already.”

“Come on Sully. You know I wouldn’t do anything to get you in trouble.”

“Crap you wouldn’t. I nearly ended up a floater in the Bow the last time I helped you.”


Read more from Donald Roberts
Carver Manx -1
Carver Manx – 2

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