An interview with Max Carver – A (paranormal) Private investigator.

Part one.

This interview is fictional. 


I entered Max Carver’s office building, it was old almost run down and the interior wasn’t much better. He liked brick. Raw brick walls were the main feature, no paint, no wallpaper. It had a smell, old cigarettes which led me right to his office. I had to sign in at reception first, a young pretty female who looked no more than twenty-two welcomed me with a smile, a smile I imagined often caused her trouble.

I was directed down a narrow corridor, which led me to a large open space of cubicle type desks, other investigators. Printers were working away, phones were ringing, and the atmosphere was loud full of spoken word. Then I noticed a room, with blacked out windows that were meant to over look the rest of the office and a door that was also unable to be peeped out of. A brass sign that needed to be properly polished read ‘M.Carver’ Not detective or P.I just that. I wasn’t sure what to expect, it was either him being humble or reality is nothing like Television and that they don’t have bold door signs stating a title of some sort. I looked around me to see if anyone would maybe talk to me, I would have liked to of spoken about Max before I interviewed him, the only bits to go off are articles read online. I got the impression he was a tough cookie, or just a miserable one. I knocked twice, and heard a yes come in. I opened the door and I could smell the stale cigarette aroma as I had when I first got here. The door was shut immediately as Max sat and waved me to do so.


“Sit, get comfy, I want this done quickly.”

“Right you are Mr Carver”

“You can call me Max for God sake.”

He flicked his cigarette ash and continued to smoke, his small dark green eyes watching my every move. He was intimidating, yet I felt a warmth to him, he reminded me of my father. Which was strange, as I had only met Max for a hot minute.


“Ya not a witch are you?”

“No” I looked at him puzzled.

“Right well, just checkin.. How many questions you got for me?”

“Err. Well, around ten if that’s okay?”

“It will have to be okay.”


I pulled out my phone and placed it onto this dark oak table, cracked at the corners. I wanted to brief with him a little more and maybe get to know him a small bit before I jumped into the questions but I don’t think this was how he worked – It was clear he had never been interviewed for a paper before.

“Before I start, anything you want to say to break the ice?”

“Not really……You sure you aint a witch you got long fingers…Real long”

“I can’t explain that one, i never have been asked about my long fingers before. I don’t know what to say or why you are even asking.”

“Ya should know why I’m askin’.. Didn’t ya do any research about me?”

“Of course. Only bits, my boss asked me to interview you so I just did the basic search and put together some questions.”

“Right well Miss..”

“Janice Silverstone”

“Fire away”


I hit record.



How did you find yourself in this line of work Max?

Max: On Google it says that I couldn’t make it a policeman so I upped and went for a private detective firm, mostly as a office rat who filed, made copies but I kinda just liked solving problems. I over stepped my boundaries as a office rat and that’s when I got a taste for PI work. Did some courses, blah blah blah.
So what led to having your own firm?

Max: Old boss was a dick.. Wanted to move on..


Oh, okay. So did your wife support this career choice of having your own firm?

Max: Not sure what my ex wife has got to do with it, ya want to make it clear that I am a miserable middle-aged divorced man?


Me: No.. I mean.. I guess people like to know personal details

Max: My wife came home one day after fifteen years of marriage, told me she was pregnant. Not my kid, she served me divorce papers that day. Moved two months later to where ever the fuck she went and lives with some prick who plays golf, and has his own family estate or some bull.. He’s rich that’s all I can tell you.


Me: Well okay, I can edit some of that.. Being divorced after fifteen years would have been enough.

Max: Look, I don’t know why uou are here, I aint sure why someone like me would want to be interviewed.

Me: You line of work is interesting.

Max: Bullshit, this pays the bills. It’s exciting at first but it’s the same thing over and over.. Cheating partners, surveillance, back ground checks.

Me: I meant the other side…

Max: I don’t know what you mean.

Me: Your last case was pretty strange..

Max: Shit you know? Sneaky… Definitely not a witch?

Me: I write a six monthly paranormal newspaper for well.. People who live in that world. It’s private, not for public purchase to us folk. Unless, you requested it.

Max: So it’s bigger than what I’ve dealt with.. you tellin’ me more shit like I faced exists.

Me: Afraid so. Not all bad though.


The room was silent for a moment, I allowed him to gather his thoughts. I was worried about meeting him but he’s oblivious to it all. I got him all wrong.

“Carry on then lady.”


Me: Well I guess I can skip the basic stuff and dive in?

Max: How about I get some lunch ordered, then we can get into it.

Me: Sounds good, I’ll have a chicken Caesar salad with a side of fries. Oh, and a diet coke.





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