I have decided I am going to take the extended break from writing still, and pursue other hobbies such as art.
You can find my art at http://www.deviantart.com/pcart138 for the time being untill I find another method of posting it.
Thanks everyone for your support.
Sincerely,
P.C. Snider
I am very happy to announce The Jack Blackwood Mysteries is now completed. You may download it for free. It took awhile but I was finally able to get the four short Mysteries sorted out. I hope you all enjoy it. It is nice and short only 47 pages. Including the About The Author Page.
Description: Former freelance Detective Jack Blackwood is on the case of the Skeleton Glove Killer, in Jack's Last Drink, will he figure out who the killer really is? In the second Mystery, a famous Jazz Singer Ashley Smith is murdered, will he figure out who did it? In The Man With The Broken-Heart Tattoo, another detective Joe Babcock is introduced, and in the final story Who Really Is Jack? You will discover the true identity of Jack Blackwood in a shocking twist.
Sincerely,
~P.C. Snider
Copyright © 2026 by P.C. Snider
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License (CC BY 4.0).You are free to share, copy, distribute, and adapt the material for any purpose, even commercially, as long as you give appropriate credit to the author.
[https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/]
Here is the final Jack Blackwood story. I was able to finish it early today. I'll have the whole collection in an ebook soon. I hope you all will like the ending to this four part short story Mystery series.
Who Really Is Jack? By P.C. Snider
As Joe Babcock investigates Jack’s apartment, he had noticed earlier that there were no credentials hanging up on the wall. He also noticed back at the crime scene that Jack never showed his Detective badge to the Officer he was talking to.
Joe had been hired by Randy the bartender–to find out the truth if Jack Blackwood really was a former Detective or not, as Randy had some suspicions, especially considering Jack was heavily drinking. After his divorce was finalized. But so far at least he has been able to stay sober for the time being. For the last three cases so far.
“How long were you a Detective for Jack?” Joe asked.
“About twenty years give or take.”
He replies as he sits down at his desk, and pours himself a coffee.
“Would you like a coffee?”
“Yeah sure. Thanks.” Joe said.
“Would you like a seat as well?”
“I’m good, I don’t think I’ll be long.”
“So I have been keeping an eye on you Jack.”
“You have?”
“Yep.”
“I don’t think you were ever really a Detective.”
“Oh really?”
“Yep.”
“I can prove it too!”
“How?” Jack said.
“Good news is, at least your name is the same.”
“But you never were a freelance Detective.”
Jack almost spills his coffee. He holds his hands on both sides of his head to give it a shake.
“The only job you ever had was a dishwasher at a place called Tony’s.”
“They were the only ones who would hire you.”
“I am thinking the shifts were so long, eight hours a day Monday to Friday. You had a lot of alone time to think of Mystery stories. You have done it for so long now. You convinced yourself that you were a former freelance Detective.”
“It can’t be true.” Jack was now gasping for air.
“Oh but it is.”
“Also I know for a fact that you had been in AA and Rehab for your drinking problem. Which could have also had an impact on why you thought you were a former freelance Detective.”
“Do I still work at Tony’s?” Jack asked.
“No, you are retired. Hard to believe from a job that pays so little.”
“Anyway, I just wanted to bring that bit of information to light for you. So you can hopefully move on from this former Detective persona.”
“Your friend Randy, really admires you, and wants to help you get back to normal.”
“Explain why you’re dressed like me. Please.” Jack said.
“That’s easy, I’m a regular at Tony’s.”
“Go on…” Jack said.
“I think you just saw me quite a few times, you liked my look.” Joe held in a bit of a chuckle at the thought.
“Yeah, I guess that would make sense.” Jack said.
“So between the long hours of working alone as a dishwasher, plus drinking, plus your own imagination. It all amplified this delusion that you were a former freelance Detective.”
“So basically what you’re saying is I don’t have to take any more cases.”
“Bingo again. My friend. I pronounce you Jack Blackwood, a free man.”
Jack's face lit up. No longer confused, or upset about the fact he was never a former freelance Detective to begin with.
“What do I do now?” Jack asked. As he looked on his wall of “solved” cases.
“Well I do suggest you give Tony a call. After I leave.” Joe hands him a business card of Tony’s. “You can verify if this information I have given you is true or made up.”
“I also suggest you continue your AA, and rehab meetings. They will help you.”
“One last thing. Mr. Blackwood…”
“Yeah Joe?”
“Please leave any more cases to the real detectives. I need work too.” He tipped his fedora to Jack.
“Will do, Joe.”
Joe the man with the broken-heart tattoo leaves, and quietly closes Jack’s apartment door.
“Will do.” Jack said to himself looking at Tony’s business card.
#
Jack picks up the phone, and dials Tony’s number.
“Tony here, all day breakfast is served, and lunch special today is chicken fingers, and fries.”
“Hey Tony, Jack here.”
“Hey Jack! Long time no call. How ya doing?”
“I’m alright, I guess.”
“Can I verify some information with ya?”
“Sure.”
“Was I ever a freelance Detective?”
“Not that I am aware of. But you were one hell of a dishwasher here. New guy not nearly as fast as you were. Barely can keep up.”
“Okay, thanks Tony, glad to hear that.”
“No problem Jack. take care buddy.”
“Will do.” Jack replied.
“Will do.”
He looked around at the solved cases on the wall and he lit one last cigarette. This will be the next bad habit to go. He thought to himself.
The End.
Copyright 01/17/2026
~P.C. Snider
Here for your enjoyment is the 3rd Jack Blackwood story. I have one more left to write, then I will probably be taking another break from writing to re-charge. For a bit. We will see. I keep debating on if I am going to continue on writing, or if I wanna somehow continue with Music which was always my first favorite hobby growing up. We will see what happens after I take a break after the next and last Jack Blackwood story is done. I sure do like writing, but I find my inner critic is a lot less noisy when I play Music compared to writing. Anyway I will try, and get to the last Jack Blackwood story later today or tomorrow. I hope you all enjoy reading The Man With The Broken-Heart Tattoo. As much as I enjoyed writing it.
The Man With The Broken-Heart Tattoo By P.C. Snider
Jack Blackwood a former freelance Detective that keeps getting hired instead of retiring. He was able to solve two cases so far. The first one though he did on his own, he didn’t care about getting paid just wanted it to be over with. The Skeleton Glove Killer has been caught, put behind bars.
In the second case, he was hired by a guy named Chad to find out who killed a Jazz Singer named Ashley Smith. He was able to solve that case as well. Was only paid two-hundred dollars for the whole thing. But he was happy with that.
Turns out the second case was the bass player of the band, and she was killed in self-defence.
Anyway, long story short. Jack has two cases now under him, all done and over with.
But now he had gotten another phone call.
Jack picks up his landline rotary phone.
“Jack you there? It’s Randy, from Randy’s Bar.”
“Yeah, I’m here.” Jack said.
“Need your help buddy.”
Jack covers the phone, and sighs. Here we go again. Case number 3.
“What are you looking for Randy?” Jack said
“A friend of mine has been killed.”
“Sorry for your loss.”
“Thanks Jack.”
“Who was he?”
“Actually it’s someone that you also know too.”
“Oh?”
“Benny, your cab driver the last couple times, you left here.”
“The Blues guy?”
“Yep.”
“Please give me a minute.”
“Sure.”
Jack puts the phone down. Sighs. He takes a deep breath.
“Well that’s very unfortunate.”
“Where was he found?”
“Actually he was found not too far from your place. Why I am asking you to do me a favor, and help figure out what happened. If you do this for me, we can call it even on your bar tab.”
“I’ll give it a go. Thanks Randy.”
“No… thank you Jack.”
Jack hangs up the phone. He gets his black trench-coat on, Black Fedora Hat on, his pack of cigarettes, his lighter, and his wallet, and heads out the door.
#
Randy was right. Just three blocks down he sees cops surrounding a man’s body lying face down in a puddle full of ice, and snow.
He taps on the first Cop he sees.
Turns out it’s a woman.
”You must be Jack.” She said,
“Yeah how did you know?”
“Randy called, and told us ahead of time that you were on your way.
“May I have your name?”
“Officer Rebecca Smythe. At your service.”
“She took a bow.”
“Is that Benny?” Jack points to the body.
“Was Benny.”
“Good point.”
“Any leads?”
“Maybe yes, maybe no.” Rebecca replied.
Jack takes a side glance to his right, and sees another mysterious figure, almost dressed exactly like him, black trench coat, black fedora hat, right down to the nitty gritty almost completely identical to him.
“Who’s that guy?” He pointed to his right to show Rebecca the man he saw.
“She says who?”
“That man over there.” Jack turned to point him out again, but the man had vanished into thin air.
“He was there I swear!”
“I don’t see him now…”
“Yeah I know.” Jack sighed.
“So again, any leads on what happened to him?”
Jack points back to the body on the ground.
“Yeah, I guess I’ll make this one easy on ya, since you seem so desperate for answers.” Rebecca said.
“He had a bad rider in his cab. Tried stiffing him for a free ride. Said he didn’t have any cash. As you know, people don’t feel too good about that sort of thing these days. You don’t have cash for something. Then bam. There’s a fight over it. We believe it was a homeless guy named Peter. We got people on the lookout for him already at his usual hangouts.”
“Thanks a lot Officer Smythe. Think I am going head on back to the apartment, I gotta give Randy a call.” Jack said.
“Sounds good Jack. Be safe.” She replied.
“Will do, always try to.” Jack replied. “Thanks.”
“No problem, I didn't want you to hurt your brain on this one. You've been through a lot already. See ya around.”
Jack starts his walk back to his place since it was close by.
#
Back at his apartment, he notices the man that was dressed exactly like him waiting for him at the front door. He hesitates to approach him, but then decides to go for it curiosity has taken over his mind about who he was and why he was at the scene as well dressed like him.
“Hi stranger, my name is Jack.”
“Yeah I know.” The man said in a deep dark almost growling voice.
“May I ask who you are?”
“Sure. Why not.”
The man took out a cigarette from his trench coat in the same manner Jack does, and started to smoke it. He offers Jack one as well.
“Sure, thanks.” Jack said. As he accepted the offer he couldn’t help but notice it was the same brand of cigarettes he likes. Wow not only is this guy dressed like me, but he also likes the same cigarettes. He thought.
“My name is Joe Babcock, I am known for my broken-heart tattoo on my right arm. He rolls up his sleeve to reveal the tattoo to Jack.
Jack sees the tattoo is indeed of a broken-heart.
“Why did you get that particular tattoo?” Jack asked. Feeling already sorry for the man. Since he himself knows the feeling all too well.
“That’s for me to know, and for you not to worry about.” He replied.
“Okay, sorry.” Jack replied.
“No problem, let’s just say I had a really bad circumstance happen to me. We will leave it at that.”
“Okay, anyway, why are you here?”
“Let’s just say I have been hired to keep an eye on you.”
“Oh? By who?”
“Someone you know quite well. Let’s just say he owns a particular bar that you frequently go to.”
“Randy?”
“Bingo, my new friend.”
“Why would he do that?”
“Would you be cool about going inside to your place, and talk more about it?”
“Sure.”
Jack unlocks the front door to his apartment building, and they both head up the stairs.
#
Now in Jack’s apartment Joe takes a look around, he notices he doesn’t see any credentials hanging up on the wall. He also noticed back at the crime scene that Jack never showed his Detective badge to the Officer he was talking to.
Yeah exactly why the guy hired me. Joe Babcock, the man with the Broken-Heart tattoo thought to himself. We will get down to the jest of this in no time. No time at all.
Copyright 01/17/2026
~P.C. Snider
I was successfully able to read 26 books last year. Even with working a day job. You can follow me on Goodreads to see what I am reading. I mainly read Fiction, with the odd Science, Philosophy, or Religion book depending on the mood of what I want to read.
Reading is more of just a hobby for me, same with my writing. I find it a great way to escape, learn, and grow. I'll even read the odd self-help book if I am bored enough--ha ha. Even I need the odd inspiration, and pick-me up.
I wish more people would read more, including myself. Instead of glued to the TV screen. But don't get me wrong I do love watching old Movies, and TV Shows. Not so much new ones. Which some days I am guilty of watching too much TV.
But the main point I am trying to make here, is to try and find a balance between too much TV, and making time to read, reflect, and try to turn the TV off a little bit more every day.
Also, just a brief note, I find the use of Smart Phones, also a cause of people reading less. Remember all the stories that are waiting in books are endless. Not to mention no commercials/ads the majority of the time.
If you have trouble affording books, you can find a whole bunch for free at https://gutenberg.org/ and listen to Audio Books at https://librivox.org/, or your local library.
Anyway hope you all have enjoyed this first, and personal essay.
Sincerely,
~P.C. Snider
Copyright 01/13/2026
This is the second Jack Blackwood Mystery that will be included in my next short story collection. Thinking I might keep it short with just 4 short stories. I got 2 more brewing and I think you all will be very surprised with the ending of the last one I got cooking up.
Anyway I hope you all enjoy this 2nd Mystery. Keep an eye out for The Jack Blackwood Mysteries collection coming soon.
I Will Never Get To Be With You By P.C. Snider
Jack Blackwood, a former freelance Detective, is on another case. He’s dressed all in black—a black fedora and a black trench-coat. He can’t seem to retire no matter how hard he tries. People that knew him as a freelance Detective keep managing to find him, and hire him for another job.
Of course, he always accepts, always needs the money. It’s not great money, but it’s not bad money either. (Well depending on how you look at it). He guesses it could be called bad money, since he is being paid to solve horrible crimes.
The last one was a killer called The Skeleton Glove Killer, turned out to be a bartender named Michelle. She ended up in prison for life. Which he was surprised as the usual was death by hanging.
But needless to say, he was able to solve the crime. Although, in that particular case he didn’t get paid for it. It was all on his own doing to catch the killer.
Michelle’s bar is now under new management, a guy named Randy. It has also been renamed to Randy’s Bar.
Jack didn’t really mind the name change, he had quit drinking anyway in order to find out who the killer was.
He pretty much just orders the odd orange juice, or soda when he visits the bar now out of boredom, or feels the need to talk to someone. Aka: The Bartender. Otherwise, he pretty much just stays to himself.
Anyway, this new case is a bit different, a bit normal: a woman has been killed. Named Ashley Smith. She was a jazz singer, and the different part was that he was hired by a guy named Chad. Chad had a big crush on Ashley, when he had found out on the news that she was killed he was heart broken. Devastated even. The first thing he did was end up at the bar for a night of drinking. During that night, he had noticed Jack in the far corner of the bar with his Rum and Coke at the time. Long story short, Jack was hired. To do this case while he was on another one.
At first Jack didn’t want to take the case, but he said yes immediately at the time. Must have been the Rum talking. He thought.
He was reading a newspaper at the bar, a front page article about Ashley being found dead outside of a Jazz Club named The Jivin’ Jazz Pub.
Jack doesn’t quite remember if he had been there or not. Memory is a bit hazy. So he decided to take a cab ride there, to do some investigating.
He hails a cab from outside Randy’s Bar.
Cab pulls up in front of Jack.
“Hey, it's my buddy Jack!” Benny yells.
“Yeah it’s me... Unfortunately.” He replies as he gets inside the cab.
#
Benny turns on the Blues Music right away. “Oh my baby, left me, and I still don’t wanna be... Me.”
Jack does a small grumble, over the lyrics to the song. Again he wasn’t a big Blues fan, but it was better than Country Music. “Country Music makes Jack’s ears bleed.” He used to say. He was a Rock and Roll Music guy. He liked it fast, upbeat. Something you could dance to. Just as he had mentioned before.
“Where to Jack?” Benny asked.
“The Jivin’ Jazz Club. Please.”
“I didn’t know you liked Jazz.” Benny said.
“I don’t.” Jack almost laughed at the idea of him listening to Jazz.
“I’m more of a Rock and Roll Guy.”
“I remember.” Benny said. As he turned up the Blues Music.
“I am still a Blues dude.”
“I can tell.”
They both have a bit of a chuckle over the Music debate.
As they arrive at The Jivin’ Jazz Club, it appears to be empty despite a show happening in the next hour or so.
Jack pays Benny forty-five dollars. Five of it being a tip, and heads on in holding his Fedora from being blown away by the wind. He runs into the club excited to talk to the bartender. As he reaches the bar, he notices the bartender as a very tall guy. Might even be 7ft tall. Or, at least close to it.
He slowly walks up to him, and sees his nametag. It says: Eddie Schnarr. “Interesting last name.” Jack says, holding in a chuckle. It reminded him of almost a super-villain name in a Comic Book.
“Thanks.” Eddie replied.
“No problem.” Jack said.
“What can I get ya?”
“Just a ginger ale. I quit drinking.”
“Nobody likes a quitter.” He laughed, as he poured Jack a ginger ale.
Eddie hands Jack a glass of ginger ale. He always likes to examine the fizzing of the bubbles as it is poured. It fascinated him.
“Did you know Ashley Smith?” Jack asked.
“Yeah I did, kinda.”
“Kinda?”
“Yeah, kinda.” Eddie said.
“Are you aware that she was murdered?”
“Yeah I am aware. Read it in the paper.”
Jack sighs.
“Sorry I don’t have any more information for you my friend. If I did I’d tell ya. I don’t like trouble, but trouble seems to be finding me lately. So you will have to find someone else to help.” Eddie said.
“Any tips on who I could ask?”
“You could talk to her band’s manager. He’s sitting at the other end of the bar, he pointed him out to Jack.
Jack couldn’t help notice the band manager having a rum and coke.
Man I sure could use one. His mind wandered.
He casually walks up to the band manager, and takes a seat beside him. “Mind if I sit here?” Jack asked.
“Sure not a problem.”
Jack took a small glance at his rum and coke. Shook his head back and forth as if saying no he wasn’t going to have one.
“What’s your name?” Jack asks.
“Who wants to know?”
“Just a man with a bunch of questions, especially how managing a band works. It must be fun.”
“My name is Tom Peterson. May I have yours?” He replies.
“Sure, my name is Jack Blackwood.” He puts his hand out to shake his. Tom accepts the handshake.
“So is managing a Jazz Band as fun as it sounds?”
“Honestly, no it isn’t.”
“You’re in the middle of all disagreements, money, figuring out each place where they are playing, etc.”
“So you knew the singer Ashley Smith?”
“Of course, and I am pretty depressed about her passing on.”
“Sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you. Hence, the rum and coke.” He took another sip.
Jack almost regrets quitting drinking now. Licks his lips. He takes a sip of his ginger ale instead.
“Wanna talk about it?”
“Sure. I didn’t kill her. But I know who did…”
“Any hints?”
“Well I am not going to right out tell you. That’d be too easy. If you wanna have some fun figuring it out as well.”
“Good point.” Jack said.
“Here’s a hint.” Tom said.
“Singerss especially women. For some odd reason, which I think is really dumb by the way, they tend to go out with one of their own band members.”
“Why is that dumb?” Jack asked.
“Because, if they break up, there goes the band. It happens all the time, if I had a dollar for every band break up because of a relationship gone sour, I’d be a millionaire.”
“You make good money as a band manager?”
“Honestly, not really. But I used to love Jazz, a lot. Now with everything that has gone on. I am rethinking my decisions.”
“Understandable Tom.”
“You will find something else I am sure.” Jack pats him on the back.
“Thanks Jack.” Tom sighed.
“Anyway, I think you know what you wanna/need to do at this point. Hope I steered you in the right direction.”
“Yeah, I think I'm going to talk to some of the other members of the bands.”
“Good idea Jack.” Tom gives him a wink.
“You know where they are?”
“”You’re in luck.”
“I am?”
Tom points to the corner of the bar where the jukebox was located. Jack notices three guys standing next to it.
“I guess I am!” Jack said, smiling a big grin.
“Goodluck Jack.” Tom said.
“Thanks Tom.”
Jack heads over to talk to the band.
#
“Hey guys, how’s it going?” Jack asked.
“Meh,” All three of them shrugged their shoulders while eyeballing the juke box debating which song to put on.
“You like Blues?” One of them asked. Which reminded Jack about Benny the Cab driver.
“Honestly, I am more of a Rock and Roll guy honestly.”
“The man in a regular blue jeans and black t-shirt ended up putting on a Robert Johnston song, Cross Road Blues.”
Jack sighs.
“Interesting choice.” Jack said.
“Thanks.”
“Anyway I have some questions regarding Ashley Smith.”
They all looked at each other, shaking with scared expressions on their faces. One guy was almost sweating from his forehead. The one who chose the song.
That’s gotta be the guy. Jack thought.
“What’s your name buddy?” Jack asked.
“Jake.”
“Gotta last name?”
“Rogers.” He sighs. Wiping the sweat from his forehead.
“You knew Ashley right?”
“Of course, I was her bass player.”
“Were you two an item?”
“Yes we were, for a little while.”
“Only for a little while?”
“Yeah.”
“How long would you say?”
“Probably about a year.”
“I’d consider that a short while, I guess.” Jack rubbed his fingers along his chin thinking about the next question he was going to ask.
“Who wants to know?” Jake asked.
“Just a man who was hired to find out information.”
“You a cop?”
“No former freelance Detective.”
“Hmm. Interesting.” Jake muttered.
“Who hired you?”
“I am unable to tell you that information, as I have always regarded the privacy of my clients personal details.”
“You wanna know if I killed her?” Jake asked.
“Basically yes.”
He looked at the other two guys with pleading eyes. Almost as if saying, “Please help me guys.”
The other two nodded their heads at the same time.
“Yes he did kill her.” The black hair guy wearing a fancy suit blurted out,
Jake glared at him with a sinister look.
“But it was self-defence.”
“Very interesting.” Jack said.
“Is it true?”
“Yes.” Jake said smiling.
“She was trying to kill me, it was either me or her.”
“How was she trying to kill you?” Jack asked.
“She had a pistol. A .22 Caliber. She was pointing it at my forehead. Close range.”
“What did you do?” Jack asked?
“Instincts kicked in, I grabbed the gun out of her hands, and I shot her in the chest, and it killed her.
“Any witnesses?” Jack asked.
Fancy suit guy, put his hand up. I saw a little bit through the hotel room’s door peering in. Heard the fight from down the hallway.
“I guess that could count.” Jack said.
“That was all I needed to know, thanks guys. I’m going to head out for the evening to let my client know the details.”
“Will I be okay?” Jake asked.
“You gotta witness, and it was self-defence. I think you will be fine.”
“Phew.” Jake said.
“One last question if I may?”
“Sure.” Jake said.
“What was the fight over?”
“Money, of course.”
“Of course.” Jack said. “Makes sense now.”
“That is all then. Thanks again.”
Jack headed out the door again holding his Fedora hat from being blown away by the wind.
#
Jack put his hand out for a cab.
As usual, Benny pulls up in front of Jack.
Jack sighs. Always Benny. It would be nice to get someone different some day.
“Where to buddy?” Benny asked.
“Same place where I always go after solving a case.” Jack sighed.
“Your place?” Benny asked.
“Yep.” Jack replied.
“Sounds good buddy.” He drives off.
#
They finally reach Jack’s place with no close calls or interruptions this time. He pays Benny the usual forty-five dollars and heads in to call Chad and tell him the news. He hopes he is alright with the information he is about to disclose.
#
“Self-defence?” Chad said over the phone.
“Yep. Self-defence.” Jack replied.
“Interesting.” Chad responded.
“Yep.”
“Yep.”
“Sorry you will never get to be with her.” Jack said.
“Yeah me too. Probably would never have had the chance anyway, her being famous, and all.”
“Exactly.” Jack said.
“Sometimes gotta realize what is real, and what isn’t, and carry on.”
“True.” Chad said.
“Thanks for looking into it for me.” Chad said.
“Not a problem. Thank you for hiring me and helping me cover my rent for another month.”
“Not a problem.” Chad said.
“Have a good one Chad.”
“You too Jack.”
Jack hangs up the phone. Places the newspaper article about the singer being killed and posted it on his wall next to his other cases.
He writes Mystery Solved in red ink in big letters on it.
He sits back in his chair, and he wonders.
What will the next case be? He thought. As he takes out a cigarette and lit it.
The End
Copyright 01/04/2026
~ P.C. Snider