The Case of Crazy Eddie’s Killer

An Akari Hoshinatsu Mystery

by Freya Gersemi

©Copyright 2025 Freya Gersemi. All rights reserved

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact freyagersemi@gmail.com.

The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.

Book Cover Design by ahorsewithnoname

Foreword

I would like to thank AlexFourways for always being a wacky girl’s friend.

I definitely need to thank Figjamkiss for proofreading and editing my wacky stories.

And a man who needs no introduction, ahorsewithnoname, needs a medal for dealing with my wackiness almost daily.

Chapter 1 - “Crazy Eddie”

“It’s so exciting that we’re going to be private investigators,” Maureen whispered, holding Akari’s naked body closer.

“It’s not going to be exciting. It’s just going to be taking pictures of cheating spouses -”

“That’s exciting.”

“And maybe helping O’Malley with some things - probably unpaid.”

“That’s not so exciting.”

Akari looked at Maureen. “And that’s really about it.”

“But it could be exciting,” Maureen said, hopefully.

“But it won’t.”

“You’re such a poop. What if we changed our names to something exciting? Like professional stage names?”

“Are we going to have sex or not?” Akari asked.

“We will. We will,” Maureen reassured her impatient girlfriend. “But first, what if your name was something… exotic and wild? Something like… Myra Mayhem.”

Akari smirked. “Really?”

“Yes! And you’re, like, a hard-boiled and jaded P.I. in a trench coat and a hat with the brim pulled down low.”

Akari sighed. “We’re not going to have sex, are we?”

Maureen continued as if she didn’t hear Akari. “And I’ll be… Amber Luxxe, sexy former stripper that gave her glamorous exotic dance life up for the love of Myra Mayhem.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“No. No. No. Picture this…”

* * * * * * * * * *

Myra Mayhem sat with her feet up on her small battle-scarred oak desk staring at her assistant, Amber, hard at work doing pretty much nothing. Myra licked her lips, tasting the last remaining flavor of Amber’s sweet pussy. Lunch had been the usual take-out shit. Dessert, on the other hand, had been spectacular.

Myra’s last name wasn’t “Mayhem,” of course. Her Japanese last name was difficult for non-Asians to pronounce and didn’t look nearly as good on the frosted glass door of her shabby south-side office. Her first name wasn’t “Myra” either, but she didn’t like to get too bogged down in details.

Or the truth.

“When was the last time we had any cash coming in?” she asked Amber.

Amber looked at her. “Do you want me to dig up the actual date?”

“No. Don’t bother.”

“Good. I was just going to flip through some papers and then make up a date anyway.”

Myra nodded. “Um-hmm.” She wasn’t surprised. Amber Luxxe, a former stripper - now a private stripper for one woman only - wasn’t a great bookkeeper. She was great in the sack. She was a great assistant. Not so good with paperwork. But she was better at it than Myra was.

Myra leaned back and stared at the ceiling, tracing the water stain patterns with her eyes for about the billionth time when blue and red lights lit up the dim room. “Ugh,” Myra grunted as she got up from the creaky wooden chair.

She went over to the dusty window and peered down at the alleyway that ran between the brownstone that housed her second-floor office and Chan’s Sushi. Without turning around, she mumbled, “Some excitement out there.” Myra heard the floorboards as Amber walked to the window, put her arm around Myra’s waist, and looked down at three police cars crammed into the narrow alley like piglets jockeying for position around their mother’s teat.

“Wanna go down and see what’s going on?” Amber asked.

Myra shrugged and headed for the door.

In the alley, crime scene tape was already up. “What happened?” Myra asked Garcia, a police officer and a high school friend of hers.

“Chan found a body behind his dumpster.”

“Neat!” Amber exclaimed. Stripping was rarely this exciting.

“It was Crazy Eddie,” Garcia continued. “The homeless guy that was always collecting cans every trash day.”

“There’s been a lot of homeless turning up dead lately,” Myra commented.

“Fourth one in the last few weeks.”

Myra looked at Garcia. “Four?”

“Yup. And this one was definitely a murder.”

“Murder?” Myra confirmed. “Do you think the other ones are related?”

Garcia leaned in closer. “Between you and me? Yes, I do. They’re calling in the feds.”

Knowing that there probably was going to be no payday for them, Amber still spoke up. “Will you let us know if anything… interesting comes up?”

“I will if you can get Myra to flip teams,” Garcia said. “Just for one night.”

Decency, decorum, and any form of appropriateness between the three had been gone a long time ago. If it had ever existed at all.

“I would never leave this,” Myra slapped Amber’s cute little ass, “behind.”

“I’ve told you that she can join us.”

“And as I’ve told you since freshman year,” Myra replied, “I’m flattered, but I’m not interested.”

“I’m determined to wear you down, darling.”

“You’re determined to get a restraining order against you.” Myra turned away. “Let us know if anything pops up.”

“Something already has.”

“Fuck you,” Amber told him.

Garcia smiled. “If you can get Myra to fuck me, then you can have a spin afterwards.”

“Neither of those things will ever happen, Garcia! See ya around!” Amber chuckled as she followed Myra back into their building.

Closing the door behind them, Amber asked, “Do you think there’s a case for us there?”

“Who would pay us?” Myra shrugged. “And what would we get? A bag of cans worth nine bucks?”

“You could prove your worth to the police chief. We could get some real work and some real pay.”

“He thinks we’re bottom feeders. A couple of ticks beneath personal injury lawyers. He’ll never give us any work.”

“But what else do we have going on?”

“Well, even sweet-talking Garcia wouldn’t get us any closer to the scene. There’s nothing for us there.”

“We can come back tonight,” Amber suggested.

“Eh,” Myra shrugged, then nodded. “It’s worth a look, I guess.”

“Things are always worth a look,” Amber reminded Myra as she settled back into her chair and resumed her daily responsibility of waiting for someone to call them with work.

“I guess,” Myra sighed.

Chapter 2 - “Week-old Sushi”

“Ugh,” Myra muttered standing next to the dumpster in the alley next to Chan’s. “Does this always stink so much?”

“It does on Tuesdays.”

“Ugh,” Myra grunted again, her hand over her mouth and nose. It did nothing to alleviate the stench.

Amber tried not to breathe too much. “Do you see anything?”

“No. They cleaned everything out.” Myra backed away from the dumpster. She swore that she could actually see the fetid funk of week-old sushi that was rarely very fresh to begin with, rising out of the old dumpster. “Let’s go talk to Chan.”

Jimmy Chan was a third-generation restaurateur who had inherited his restaurant from his father who had inherited it from his father. Unfortunately for Jimmy Chan, the neighborhood around his family’s restaurant had progressively degenerated with each generation. “Myra! Amber! The prettiest ladies in town! What can I get for you?”

“Could we talk to you for a minute?” Myra asked. “What can you tell us about the dead guy?”

“Shh. Shh.” Chan looked around. “I don’t need customers to know that a homeless man was murdered next to my restaurant.”

“You need customers,” Amber pointed out.

“There are two,” Chan replied, pointing to a dark booth against the far wall.

“I think it’s a hooker and a john.”

“But they are customers.” Chan waved the girls towards a back corner of the restaurant. “We can talk in my office.”

Chan’s “office” was about as big as a supply closet, and with shelves of cleaning supplies, one chair, and a folding TV tray acting as a desk, it essentially was a supply closet. It was just missing the mop bucket. After he ushered them into the cramped space and closed the door, the girls saw the mop bucket.

“So, Crazy Eddie was killed next to your restaurant?” Myra asked.

“In a public alley. It had nothing to do with the restaurant,” Chan insisted. “But, yes. Crazy Eddie. I saw a shoe and thought that someone had thrown stuff behind the dumpster. I had to lock it because people kept throwing their garbage in. It costs me money every time I have it emptied.”

Myra nodded. She and Amber knew that he had started locking the dumpster. They used to throw trash in it.

“When I looked behind the dumpster, it was Crazy Eddie. Stabbed.”

“Stabbed?” Myra asked.

“That’s what the police said. I didn’t check! But there was blood everywhere.”

“Hmm.” Myra nodded. “What else?”

Chan shook his head. “Nothing. I called the police, they came and roped everything off. By 6:00, they were done.”

“Did you notice anything suspicious last night or this morning?”

“No. I closed up and went home.”

“Did you go out to the dumpster last night?”

“Before I closed up, I threw some bags into the dumpster.”

Myra furrowed her eyebrows. “And you didn’t notice anything then?”

Chan frowned and shook his head.

“So Crazy Eddie was killed early this morning,” Amber stated.

“Or last night, and Chan just didn’t see him,” Myra said. “The alley’s dark.” Myra sighed. “You’ll let us know if you think of anything, Chan?”

“Yes.”

Myra looked directly at Chan. “Before the police?”

Chan pursed his lips, then told them, “Yes. Yes.” He knew that business was tough all over and the people in this neighborhood had to stick together. Plus, he liked Myra and Amber.

“Thank you.” Myra gave him a weak smile. Everything was tough. Chan was a good man.

Back out on the sidewalk, Amber asked, “So, now what?”

Myra glanced towards the alley. “I don’t know. Nothing, I guess. It’s another dead end for us.”

“Business will pick up,” Amber said, reaching for Myra’s hand.

“It better.”

Amber gently squeezed Myra’s fingers. “We’ll be fine. We always are.”

Myra wasn’t so sure.

“I can always grab some shifts at Manny’s.”

“I don’t want you to go back to that, Amber.”

“I will if we need to.”

Myra frowned.

“Let’s go home,” Amber said. Then, with a smile, added, “I can make you feel better. Come on.”

With a deep sigh, Myra replied, “I guess.”

“Very enthusiastic. You really know how to flatter a girl.”

“Sorry,” was all that Myra said, but she held Amber’s hand the entire way back to their crummy fourth-floor apartment.

As Myra closed the rickety wooden door and slid the inadequate deadbolt into place, she turned to Amber. “You gave up stripping to work with me and I’m a failure.”

“You’re not a failure,” Amber told her, taking Myra into her arms. “It’s tough work. Something will fall into place.”

“Yeah,” Myra mumbled, resting her head on Amber’s shoulder. “Somehow it always seems to… So far, at least.”

“That’s the spirit!” Amber exclaimed with as much gusto as she could muster. “Now bring some of that fervor into the bedroom and let’s fuck!”

Myra raised her arms into the air. “Yay! Fucking my girlfriend!”

“There you go!”

The girls ran across the tiny kitchenette into the tiny bedroom. With just enough room to stand between the bed, the dresser, and the four paint-peeled walls, they faced each other.

“It’ll work out,” Amber said as she started to unbutton Myra’s shirt.

Myra nodded and pulled Amber in for a kiss. Right at that moment, she needed to feel loved. But she also needed more.

Myra prematurely broke the kiss, shrugged her own shirt off, and pulled Amber’s shirt up over her head. Myra licked the exposed skin between Amber’s breasts and reached around to unhook and remove her lover’s bra, exposing Amber’s exquisite breasts. She placed a kiss on both of Amber’s erect nipples, then unhooked her own bra and tossed it onto the growing pile on the floor.

Wrapping her arms around Amber’s waist, she pulled her in for a deeper kiss. The warm skin-on-skin contact was what Myra wanted. What she needed.

To feel Amber’s body against hers.

Four hard nipples pushed against each other.

Wet lips pressed together.

Tongues joined in quickly growing passion.

This was what Myra lived for.

Amber’s love.

She never knew how empty her life was before Amber had entered it and in spite of Amber’s continual bright presence, sometimes the darkness seeped in.

But Amber could always push it back out.

Myra’s body tingled as Amber stroked her bare back. Amber always knew exactly where to touch. As they kissed, Myra reached down to caress Amber’s perfect ass. An ass that had earned her a prime weekend time slot at Manny’s. But that was a different life. A life that Myra didn’t want Amber to ever have to return to.

Amber deserved more.

And right at that moment, Amber deserved all of Myra’s attention, so she tucked her money concerns away for the night, and gave her girlfriend’s ass a slap.

“Ooohh!” Amber moaned into Myra’s mouth. After the second, harder slap, Amber pushed Myra away. “Did I do something to upset you?”

“Yes. When I ate your pussy for lunch, you forgot to thank me.”

Amber lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it this time,” Myra intoned, sadly.

Slowly, Amber raised her head and looked at Myra. Trying her best to look remorseful, Amber said, “I think you need to spank me.”

Myra nodded. “I think I do.”

“Bare-assed?”

“What do you want?”

Amber thought for a second, then answered, “Pants on to start, then bare-assed.”

“Hand or…”

“Ummm,” Amber looked around the room. “Hairbrush with pants, then bare hand on bare bottom.”

Myra smiled. “Bend over, you naughty bitch!”

Amber spun around so fast that she almost knocked Myra back against the dresser. “Oops. Sorry.”

“Did I say you could speak?”

Amber shook her head and laid her upper body across the bed, pushing her eager ass up and out.

Myra grabbed the brush off the dresser and took her position next to Amber’s derriere. She slid her hand down the sumptuous curve, her fingers lingering at the warm juncture of Amber’s thighs. Amber sighed at Myra’s touch. Then Myra tantalizingly traced the seam of Amber’s pants and pressed the brush handle against Amber’s crotch.

“Mmmm,” Amber purred, swaying her hips slightly in anticipation.

Raising the brush in the air, Myra watched Amber’s ass clench in expectation of that initial delightful blow.

“Hmm-mmm,” Amber purred again, this time with a slight hitch. She knew what Myra was waiting for. She relaxed herself and closed her eyes so as not to accidentally see any indication of Myra’s movement and then it hit.

Crack!

Amber moaned with pleasure as her sphincter reflexively tightened and she made a quick mental note to earmark a few bucks from their next payday for a butt plug. Maybe a matched pair. Then to egg Myra on, she said, “Is that all you’ve -”