Time To Meet PI Harry Kenmare – In His Own Words!
G’day, I’m Harry. Harry Kenmare, Private Investigator.
I used to be a cop, detective sergeant. Until I got the arse for belting a rock spider. A child molester to most of you. Well, of course I belted the prick. I’d just lost my daughter, Orla, to scum like him. Orla was raped and murdered, by paedophile animals. And, being only human, that has shaped me as a man since then. You got a problem with that? Guess what, here’s fifty cents, go call someone who cares.
Orla’s mother, my very ex-wife, left at the same time. Decided her yoga instructor was more ‘sensitive’ to her needs. He was a pretentious arse-wipe, but he had inherited money. Yeah, so I married shallow, as it turns out. Not the first bloke down that baited burrow. And then she shagged a couple of other detectives. Sure it was to spite me. Rooting another detective’s missus was a no-no, totally against the brotherhood’s Code. Anyway, the arse-wipe yoga instructor got done for dealing ‘herbal remedies’, went to prison, and the ex became his ex, too. Some degree of karma, maybe. No doubt she’s off now making some other poor bastard’s life an abject misery.
Anyhow, my motto now is: ‘Here for a good time, not a long time’. And I live by it. I smoke, I drink like a fish, I eat rich food, and I bed every good sort I can charm back to my apartment. I love the ladies. I’m what in days gone by was described as a libertine. And if you’ve got a problem with that, hear this: I don’t give a flying rat’s arse.
Enough of my loves. What about the other side of the ledger? I hate injustice, I hate hypocrisy, I hate misogyny, I hate bullies, and I hate the Establishment. A long list. No shortage of candidates in Sydney. And wherever I can deliver karma, I’ll do so in spades.
You might love me, or you might hate me. But you’ll never forget me.