Page 10 of King’s Ransom

For instance, I now own a pair of tan-coloured jeans.

It’s a bold fashion choice, I know—all of my other jeans are blue—and to be honest I’m still getting used to it.

But on a recent trip to the mall with Darla from Hooters, Darla said I needed them to go with my new dark brown jacket [see below].

(Note 1: On that same shopping trip, Darla tried to get me to buy a Houston Astros ball cap but I refused because in 2017 the Astros cheated, ultimately winning the World Series because of their cheating. I don’t like cheaters.)

(Subnote 1 to Note 1: I did once wear an Astros ball cap during an incident at the Four Seasons Hotel in Houston involving agents of the Saudi Arabian government—I was also wearing a gas mask and a bathrobe; long story—but that was a disguise.

I was probably caught on security cameras on that occasion, so anybody who saw me in that Astros cap would’ve taken me as a fan of cheaters, which made it an excellent disguise.)

When I told Darla all this, she just shrugged and handed me a brown ‘Ariat’ ball cap since ‘it looks like a Texas hat’ and I bought that one instead.

I also wear different sneakers these days.

They’re from the Hoka brand and they are absolutely sensational.

I saw Bill Brewster wearing a pair one day.

In short, they have really thick soles that are super comfortable. Honestly, it’s like walking on air. I wear them everywhere.

(Well, almost everywhere.

My new Hoka sneakers—bought at the mall with Bill in Darla’s absence—did not go down well with Darla at all.

‘Darlin’! Why on God’s green earth are you wearin’ those hideous shoes!? They’re old man’s sneakers!’

Given that Bill is an old man, she was factually correct, but I can’t help it, I love my Hokas. I just don’t wear them when I go to Hooters for my daily lunch. Before I go there, I put on the Converse Chuck Taylor IIs that I once bought with Darla since I don’t want to hurt her feelings.)

Oh, and then there’s my new jacket.

Audrey gave it to me for my birthday.

It’s a dark brown corduroy Levi’s trucker jacket.

Audrey says it ‘fits me like a glove’ and makes me look ‘very handsome’.

(Darla approved of it wholeheartedly.

‘I love it. Now, you listen to me, darlin’. This gal of yours, she’s got taste. She’s also smart, hot, twenty thousand leagues out of your league, and a freakin’ federal agent, so don’t go and fuck this up with her, y’hear.’)

Whether my new jacket makes me look more handsome or not, I don’t know, but it’s comfortable, so I happily wear it.

And if it makes my girlfriend—yes, my girlfriend—happy, then I’ll wear pretty much anything she tells me to.

My newfound fame also had a very good effect on business.

My little detective agency in Houston got far more inquiries and cases than usual—I was lucky I’d added Heidi and Bill to the team because it required all three of us to handle the increased case load.

Having said that, I often felt that many of these new clients really just wanted to say they’d hired me, ‘The Detective’, Sam Speedman.

Which is all to say, in short, fame gets old pretty quickly.

Chiefly because it becomes annoying.

Like the selfies.

(‘The endless goddamn fucking selfies,’ as Heidi put it. ‘Don’t these people have lives?’)