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Vintage Toronto Ads: Paging Danger
Source: Maclean’s, November 27, 1989.
Thanks to Sylvie’s tip, I had a new dilemma. What do I tell Sternwood and his flunky with the furrowed brow?
“Sorry Sternwood, but I never trust a man with a monocle.” No, never.
“Sternwood, your money is as good as that paste-on beard you’re wearing.” Not good either.
I pondered a moment then smiled again, but only to myself. I never was cut out to be a comedy writer. Too obvious a wisecrack and both of them would know something was amiss.
Out of sight, I sent a signal back to Sylvie on my silent two-way wristwatch. She would know what to do. Contact Dixon, dispatch a squad to the darkness of Cherry Beach, and stamp out Sternwood once and for all.
I was grateful the department sprang for a silent pager. They didn’t for Hammond, and look where that noisy piece of crap got him. A permanent night’s sleep in the Don.
After idle chit-chat, I took the briefcase from Sternwood. Said it was a pleasure doing business with him and turned to walk away. He pulled a revolver. “The pleasure was all mine.” Then he fell, dead. Dixon always was an excellent marksman.
I walked down to the shoreline. Sylvie was waiting for me. As we embraced, I started to thank her for her timely intervention. Before the second word was spoken, she put her finger on my lips. We embraced the silence and each other.