The name is Frank, Frank Stryker. My Dad says his grandfather was from Austria. Me? I'm from Boyle Height, born and bred.

I was never pretty, but the Boche cut me up pretty bad cuz I never stopped trying to escape. The fact that I always managed to kill a few of them when they caught didn't make'em like me any better.

Started out on the wrong side of the road when I got back, did a nickle for breaking a few legs for a local Loan Shark. Got a break with a nice guy for a parole officer though, put me on the straight and narrow.

Got me a PI license, had me help him around the office. He wsas a smart man, loved to watch him puzzle things out. A skill set I never mastered. More of a bull in a China shop. He was smooth.

Shame helping me got him gunned down in an alley when I got some hoods mad.

His widow gave he his old Packard, and his old .38 in return for some comforting, though to be honest I needed it moire than her. She was also grateful that I brought the bastards to justice myself.

Prison was too good for them mugs. Burgess had been a heck of a guy.

When she went home to Iowa, I took over his office, his client list and his phone number, ANgelus 5-0666. Call me, if you got troubles, I'll see what I can do.