Jake of All Trades by A.T. Mahon

Release date: May 10, 2019
Subgenre: Hard boiled crime fiction 

About Jake of All Trades:

 

Jake is not long out of prison for violence and takes on any job he can get. He is also a private investigator, though he doesn't have a license, despite what his fake qualifications state.

Mrs Carson, his ex-teacher, hires him. They despise each other, but they forego their animosities for the sake of the job in hand. She wants him to find a missing schoolgirl by any means possible. In doing so, he comes face to face with perverts, rapists and gangsters.

With little information to go on, he has to cut corners, which includes aggression.

Along the way, he not only discovers the who's who of the underworld, but also who he really is. It's a far different picture than the self portrait he had painted of himself.

Things come to a head when he confronts both the antagonists and his own demons. 

Excerpt:

 

While he waited for the client, he shuffled his business cards. The logo on it was a black panther hiding in a tree. Everybody thought he had chosen it because of his skin tone. The truth was he couldn't afford to have it done in any other colour. Otherwise, he would have gone for a tiger, jaguar, or something equally as fearsome and eye-catching. The feline depicted the image he was trying to get across–a person who worked mostly at night. Detractors likened it to a cat burglar casing a house. He had thought long and hard to give the agency a catchy name. He opted for Jake Of All Trades.
He stacked the cards under the lamp and paced the office, repeatedly checking his watch. She would be here in ten minutes. He racked his brains about the imaginary conversation he would have with her. The last time they met his words caught in his throat, kept there by her sharp tongue.
He scolded himself. “Pull yourself together, Jake. You're a grown man. An ex-Hell's angel. An ex-con. How can you be scared of your old teacher? She can't hurt you now.”
Do you always talk to yourself?” The voice chilled him to the marrow.
He wheeled around, confused at why the door didn't click open or shut as it usually did. Perhaps she really was a witch and could appear at will.
Rita Carson hadn't changed in fifteen years, except for the blue rinse. She wore an ankle-length, black coat, wrapped tightly around her skinny frame. She held a bag tightly against her stomach as if somebody might snatch it from her. Woe betides anybody who would do that! The half-moon glasses on her twitchy nose bobbed repeatedly as her grey eyes darted around the room. They narrowed when they caught him in their crosshairs.
He gave her a wan smile in a poor attempt at being friendly. “Mrs. Carson,” he said nervously. “How are things? Nice to see you after all these years.”
Don't lie. You used to hate me. And I sure as hell couldn't stand the sight of you.” She shook her head, clucking. “God. Every time I saw that coupon of yours I just wanted to nut it.”
He stared at her in disbelief for a few moments. Then he laughed. “You've not changed a bit, have you?”
No, but you certainly have. I thought they'd find you dead in a pub toilet. With a needle stuck in your arm.”
Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
She crossed the room to the client's chair, giving it a wipe with a handkerchief before sitting.
Huh! Be my guest, why don't you?”
Her thin eyebrows shot up. “What's that supposed to mean?”
Aren't you supposed to ask permission to sit?”
Och, take your head out your backside, boy. Since when did you have airs and graces?”

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About A.T. Mahon:

A.T. Mahon has written features and stories for various publications and was a joint winner in the 'Scotland into the Future' contest run jointly by Canongate and The Sunday Herald in 1999. He now lives in Spain with his wife and cat.

When he's not teaching English to students, whose high level of English surpasses most native speakers, he treks in the Pyrenees, or unsuccessfully fends off the cat who occupies the chair at his writing desk when not in use. Advice on how to entice him off it would be greatly appreciated.

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