Saturday Night At Kiki's

Posted by David Kim on

The following is an excerpt from the upcoming sci fi noir novel The Night Detective coming Christmas 2023.

Saturday Night At Kiki’s

Kiki’s is a little-known place in the red-light district area in Dante City that John Kovacs liked to go on Saturday nights if he wasn’t assigned to a case. Tonight, was a rare occasion, even the scum bags took time off. It’s located in a narrow dark alleyway in Chinatown that most people don’t venture into. Kovacs came across this cool little place whilst on an assignment. He got to know the cute little waitress named Stephanie. The detective took the downtown train and braved the cold rain and the night crowd and finally arrived at Kiki’s. The place wasn’t quite a strip club, restaurant or café. It was all of those things. Kovacs handed his weapons, umbrella and jacket at the front desk and walked in. He liked the fact that this place was never busy. The base sound of the gentle electronic music vibrating through the air soothed him as he walked to his regular table. The interior was dimly lit with pretty neon lights but bright enough to see where he was going. He sat down and soon a waitress came to serve him water and bring him the menu.

“Where’s Stephanie tonight?” Kovacs asked the new girl that he hasn’t seen before.

“I’m her replacement, she must’ve called in sick” She said sweetly “I’ll look after you tonight hun”

Kovacs didn’t think much of it and took a sip of his water. He looked around, only three tables had patrons. He liked it that way.

On the hour, for about fifteen minutes, the middle of the floor at Kiki’s opened up and a stage slowly ascended with beautiful girl dressed scantly dancing in ways that he’s never seen before. The performers weren’t strippers, but the way they danced, moved a man’s soul. The dancers were one of the reasons Kovacs came here. He thought to himself these girls should be on TV or be on Broadway. He didn’t notice the new waitress bringing him his drink. The fifteen minutes went by like a lightening. The stage then descended back into the floor. Kovacs then saw his glass of whiskey. He downed the whole glass in one shot. That was great he thought.

As he put his glass down, he saw a figure standing in front of him. Kovacs slowly looked up. The figure was that of a man, a tall, large man. That cold thing hit the Kovacs like a freight train. The man in front of him was his target that he put in a morgue a week ago, named Vigo. Kovacs was a sitting duck. The mean looking man took out a pistol out of his long black coat, aimed it at Kovacs’ forehead, point blank and pulled the trigger.



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