Robert Thornhill
Lady Justice and the Evil Twin


Lady Justice and the Evil Twin

Autographed Copy

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The Russian mob recruited a hired gun from New York, and the guy looked exactly like Walt Williams.

   This uncanny resemblance landed Walt in the dog house with his wife, the cops, and the Italian mob.

    It takes all Walt’s skill and cunning to stave off an all-out war between the Russians and Italians, and undo the damage wrought by his evil twin. 




    Inside the Shady Lady strip club, Murray Friedman and Darrin Plotz were watching the scantily clad dancer swing seductively from the brass pole.

    “Nice! Really nice!” Murray said, approvingly.

    “No kidding!” Darrin replied. “It ain’t easy hanging upside down on a pole like that. The girl has skills.”

    “They should make pole dancing an Olympic event,” Murray said, laughing. “I’ll bet it would draw the biggest crowds.”

    They continued to watch as the dancer slid down the pole and rolled to the edge of the stage. A man in the front row rose and slipped several bills into her G-string.

    “Hey!” Darrin said, “I know that guy. Isn’t he the cop that busted our meth lab five years ago?”

    “Yeah, you’re right! Him and his big partner.”

    Darrin pulled out his cell phone and started recording as the old guy slipped more bills into the woman’s G-string and whispered something in the dancer’s ear. “Time to even the score.”

    When the dancer finished her number, she and the old guy moved to a booth away from the stage.

    “Lap dance,” Darrin said, grinning. “This is perfect!”

    He continued to record as the dancer gyrated in front of her customer.

    “I love it!” Darrin said gleefully, as the man buried his face in the dancer’s ample cleavage.

    “Okay, Cecil B. DeMille, what are you planning to do with your film?”

    “Send it to his wife, of course. Payback!”

    “Do you even remember the cop’s name?” Murray asked.

    Darrin thought for a minute. “Williams. Walt Williams, and they called his big partner, Ox.”

    “How you gonna get it to the wife?”

    “If I remember right, she’s a real estate agent. We’ll look her up. How many seventy-year-old agents can there be named Williams? Dollars to donuts she has a website with her email address.”

    Murray smiled. “Wish I could be a little mouse in the corner watching when the old cop gets home. The missus is gonna tear him a new one!”