Sleuth Home - Detective Teddy Noir

Director - Clueless & Associates

Title:		Sleuth
Experience:		16660
Archetype:		Very Charming
Age:		60 days
Gender:		male
Sleuth Theme:		Shady Character
Last Login:		Aug-7-2025
Account Status:		Inactive
Subscription Status:		Unsubscribed
Community:		Post History

Equipment

Completed Missions

• Packages Delivered: 0
• Overdue Books Returned: 0
• Nemeses Captured: 0
• Secret Plans Revealed: 0
• Artifacts Unearthed: 0
• Journal Pages Found: 0
• Brass Rings Won: 6

Detective Biography

Teddy Noir was born with a smile on his lips and the weight of New York on his shoulders. Raised in the smoke-stained shadows of Little Italy, his old man ran a newsstand on Delancey while his ma worked a sewing machine till her fingers bled. Teddy learned two things early: how to talk his way out of trouble and how to spot it before it started.

He wasn’t the biggest guy on the block, but he had something else — a look in his eye like he was already three steps ahead of the conversation. Teachers said he was trouble, priests said he was temptation, but every girl he met called him charming. Teddy never learned to throw a punch like the Irish kids, but he learned to throw a line so smooth it could pick a lock.

After a brief stint at City College and an even briefer flirtation with law school, Teddy found himself more interested in what the cops weren’t seeing. The whispers in speakeasies, the lies tucked behind painted lips, the real stories hidden behind the murder headlines. He hung up his books and picked up a trench coat, hanging a shingle that simply read: Teddy Noir — Inquiries Handled. Discretion Assured.

By 1934, he was the man people went to when their stories didn’t add up. He didn’t have muscle like some of the other PIs. He didn’t need it. Teddy had presence — the kind that made even tough guys loosen their collars. He’d light a cigarette, flash that crooked grin, and start asking questions in that velvet tone that made people forget they were spilling their guts.

Women adored him, and not just for his face. He listened. He watched. He remembered details no one else caught. That waitress who saw a man leave the alley five minutes before the shot? She wouldn’t have talked to the cops. She talked to Teddy. The widow with the bruises and the missing brooch? Teddy found her husband in a gambling den and made him confess with nothing more than a look and a line about regret.

But beneath the polish was something harder. Something sharper. A steel that ran cold and deep. Teddy had a code: you don’t lie to the dead, and you don’t let the guilty walk. He didn’t carry a gun often, but when he did, it meant the talking was done. His charm was a tool, but justice — real justice — was the job.

He walks the streets in a well-cut suit and a fedora tilted just enough to look effortless. Smoke curls around him like mystery, and his eyes are always moving — taking in angles, exits, motives. They say he knows when a lie’s coming before it leaves the lips.

In a city where everyone’s got something to hide, Teddy Noir finds the truth — and he does it with a wink, a wisecrack, and a stare that says, “I already know the answer, doll — now tell me your version.”

Politics

Contacts

Shoe Maker (New York)

Arch Villains

None Caught

Books Collected

None