Prologue-Perspectives
Jeramina Street: A waitress who has been secretly living in an attic.
Rich Well to do: A rich heir and movie star looking to break into live theater.
Scarlet N'erdoelle A rich heiress: betrothed to Rich, not a very nice person.
Toby Malone: A grizzled detective tasked with finding the missing diamond and preventing the murder of Ms. N'erdoelle
Perspective One: The Hardboiled
She walked into my office, or at least I wish i could say that. It was more that I walked into her office. Or more accurately the diner that she was working at at the time.
She was a grizzled dame. And that's coming from a grizzled detective. She was of a rather short stature, hair like she'd seen a ghost,and a permanent scowl that said she wouldn't have ever cared to tell the tale if you asked.
She was somewhat of a 'creature of the night'. But not in the way the dames on third avenue are creatures of the night, more in the sense of the mothman, or perhaps the night crawler. Formless, mysterious, and dangerous looking.
It was three a.m. She poured me a cup of coffee.
I had no way of knowing this sour little waitress was about to change my life for good.
Perspective Two: The Waitress.
He was your typical, fedora wearing jerk who I could tell was judging me just for existing as I poured him a cup of joe. He was reading a paper, muttering something about 'clues' as I gave up trying to take his order. He could flag me down whenever he decided to return to this planet. It was whatever.
Little did I know this Detective Jerk and I were about to get wrapped up in the most annoying case this podunk city had ever seen.
Perspective Three: The Heir.
She walked into my life and I found myself breathless. Stunned. She was the most gorgeous woman I had ever laid eyes upon, and that was really just the worst because I was dating the heiress daughter of a fabulously wealthy oil tycoon at my parents behest.
But oh, this woman. She sparkled. Her pale hair was like fresh cream, her freckles like pepper on mashed potatoes.
Okay so there is a reason my fiancee does not find me the most romantic man in the world.
But this woman. I only saw her for a moment across the room and I needed with all my heart to meet her.
Perspective Four: The Drama Queen
She walked into the room and I saw the look in my fiance's eyes, and no more so than in that moment have I ever legitimately contemplated murder.
But moi? Me? A criminal? Perish the filthy little though. I am the heiress to a bilion dollar fotune. I can't beleive you'd insinuate I would ever steal something.
Murder? Oh I was only joking about wanting to murder the pesky little street rat.
Murder me? Who would ever want to murder someone as rich and hot as me??
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