No for Harry Homophone
Detective Harry Homophone that this job was almost over. He had hot on the of Pinky Malone, ex-heavy boxer and now notorious gangster, over a . But now he was only away from getting his man.
Harry against the wall, pulling his hat low over his eyes. He was at the harbour down the shore, and had already fallen. The was deserted, and silent except for a ship's bell that had out once or twice the that had crept up the that evening.
He tossed his cigarette into a puddle left by that afternoon's , and approached the seedy sailor's hostel that Malone was using to up in. Harry entered silently, passed the door leading to the bar and began to climb the . At the top he paused, listening intently to the noise that came from the room.
Was that Pinky Malone, was this just an ordinary ? No, that awful snore could only mean thing and have only . This had to the man. In his final fight in the Pinky had had his broken and now snored like a foghorn.
As Harry's crashed into the door he whipped out his gun, and he was face to face with Malone lying in bed. Malone's startled expression soon gave to a smile.
'Looks like you got me this , Homopone - my gun hand's empty,' he said, his hand in the .
Harry was just about to put up his when he remembered that Malone was a south-, and that his left hand was still mysteriously under the bed-clothes.
As Pinky Malone was about to let loose with his concealed weapon, Harry snapped him back into his and pulled the trigger.
The blanket went .
'Aargh!' screamed Malone. 'You've filled me full of !'
Harry put up his gun and said, 'You went far when tried to Harry Homophone.'

Richard Jordan
MET Vol 2 No 1 1993