Thanks, Huntress. :)
Crime, Thrillers & Mystery / Hush, Little Baby - part 6
The first thing I became aware of when I regained consciousness was a raging headache. I was lying in a hospital bed under a crisp white sheet and a too-thin beige blanket. The walls were a depressing shade of green that made me acutely aware of how cold it was in the room. The air had the same hushed quality that all hospitals have, filled with the gentle squeakings of crepe-soled shoes and quiet conversations about life-and-death decisions. Doors opened and closed in the distance as visitors and janitors each tried to make the place a little brighter for the residents.
A starched nurse fussed with some papers on a clipboard at the foot of the bed. I made a noise at her, and she filled a cup with water. When I reached out, my arm was brought up short by the handcuffs that connected it to the bed rail.
This is what we hard-boiled detectives like to call “Not a good start.”
“Why the jewelry, Angel?” I croaked. She gave me an apologetic smile, but otherwise declined to answer.
“Call it an insurance policy,” came another voice. The nurse moved aside, and I saw a man sitting in a chair in the corner. Even if she hadn’t been there, I’m not sure I would have noticed him. From his shoes to his hat, he was dressed entirely in the same green that slicked down the walls of my room. Angel gave a little curtsey, and left us alone.
“Allow me to introduce myself,” he said, standing up and coming to the side of the bed. “I am Inspector Hector Protector. I am the investigative director for this sector. And you are?” He tilted his head at me.
“Cheshire Cat. Private Detector…er…Detective.”
He nodded like I had passed some sort of test. “Very good, Mister Cat. You know who you are. Do you know where you are?”
“A hospital, it looks like, unless my landlord’s made some changes.”
“Correct. You are at the King’s Men Hospital of St. Ives.” He flashed a friendly smile at me. “Do you know why you are here?”
“Someone took a shot at me.”
“And succeeded in hitting you, I would say. The doctor says that you are very lucky. Another two inches to the right and you would have died instantly.”
“It hurts like I still have that option. How bad is it?”
“Your partner’s bullet took off half of your right ear. I am afraid that you will never hear well again.”
“Run that by me once more?”
“I said, ‘I am afraid that you will never…’.” He got this sly smile on his face, and shook an admonishing finger at me. “Ah. Very good, Mister Cat.”
“I’m serious. What’s this about my partner? Are you telling me the rabbit shot me?”
“It is very unfortunate that I cannot answer that question. We arrived too late to apprehend your partner also.” He pulled out a small notebook. “Your partner is a rabbit, you say? What is this rabbit’s name, please?”
“Harvey,” I said. “But you’ll never find him. I understand why’d you be looking for the shooter, but why am I chained to this bed? You do understand that I’m the victim, here, right?”
He nodded as he wrote in his little book. “Indeed, but you are not the only one. It is fortunate that you and your partner had a falling out, as it were. Fortunate for me, anyhow, as it made you quite an easy arrest.” He sighed. “If only they were all so compliant. Be that as it may, we will soon have your partner in custody as well.”
“Oh, well, sure. That’s great. I do have one question for you, though.”
The inspector raised his eyebrows. “Yes?”
“What in the hell are you talking about?”
“Now now, Mister Cat. It is not the time to start pretending. You are being held on suspicion of the murders of one ‘Weasel’, real name unknown, and one Geoff Horner, a.k.a. ‘The Rover.’ Your partner will face the same charges, of course, and we will add your attempted murder to his list.”
“Geoff is dead? How?”
“He was shot through the heart, as you well know.”
“As I know now, you mean.”
“It is perfectly obvious. You were the last person seen with Mister Horner. Your partner Harvey, a.k.a. the Mockingbird, shot you as you left, probably over some disagreement about the money you were to receive, and then shot Mister Horner. We compared the bullets, Mister Cat. They are identical.”
“The Mockingbird? My partner calls himself the Mockingbird?”
“Yes. The posies are his calling card. We believe that the Mockingbird was an employee of the Weasel, as several known of his known rivals were dispatched in the same manner, and the flowers were found at each scene. We were never able to prosecute the Weasel for these crimes, but I still wish to put the pieces together, if possible. I do not yet know how you fit into the entire picture, but I will in time.”
I thought this over, and shrugged. “Well that sure is some fancy police work, Inspector.”
“Thank you.”
“I suppose that protesting my innocence would be a waste of time.”
“Completely.”
“Then I don’t think I’ll be talking to you anymore.”
“I understand.” He dug in his waistcoat pocket, and laid a small card on the table next to the bed. “Here is my business card. You may call me when you wish to change your mind.”
“I’ll be sure and do that. Send the nurse back in on your way out, would you?”
“Of course. Good day, Mister Cat.” He went through the door, his green shoes slapping a confident beat down the hallway.
The nurse reappeared a few moments later. “Yes, sir?”
“My head’s cracking open, Angel. Can you get me something?”
“I can’t do that, sir, but I’ll tell the doctor that you’re in pain.”
“I appreciate it. Who is my doctor, anyway?”
“Ordinarily, it would be Doctor Foster, but he went to Glo’ster for a conference, so Doctor Fell is covering the floor this week.”
“Doctor Fell?”
“Yes, sir.”
“All right. Send him in, Angel. And tell him to hurry.”
“Of course, sir.”
A couple of hours later, the door opened again. The man that walked in wore a doctor’s white coat over a somber black suit. He was around six-four, and very thin. His remaining hair had gone a dirty mottled gray, and I figured him to be in his late sixties. The lines etched around his mouth pulled it down into a permanent scowl, and a beak-shaped nose was set under rheumy brown eyes that were so close together, I wondered about his depth perception. His hands were crabbed and spotted with age, but still moved gracefully. He looked like a predatory stork.
“You are Mister Cat?” he asked in a paper-thin voice, then ignored me while he read my chart.
“I don’t know, Doc. That doesn’t seem to hold any good prospects for the future lately. How about you get me a new chart, and we’ll see where that leads.”
He smiled but didn’t mean it. “Nurse Lockett said that you were in pain. How bad is it?”
“If I wasn’t locked to this bed, I’d’ve tried to saw my head off by now.”
He nodded as though that pleased him, and moved to the cabinet beside the door. He opened several drawers, looking through their contents. “I can only give you minor painkillers – no more than aspirin, really – by order of the Inspector. He wants you awake in case he needs to talk to you.”
“That’s kind of cruel, Doc. I’m not going anywhere.”
The doctor shrugged. “But we must cooperate with the police, don’t you agree, Mister Cat?”
I nodded. “Oh sure. For instance, if one of the downtown boys asked me if I knew anything about Solomon Grundy, I’d fall all over myself cooperating.”
Fell got absolutely still. I’d scored a big hit with that one. When he turned around, he had the biggest needle I’d ever seen in his hand.
Maybe it was too big a hit.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said calmly, crossing the room. “And neither do you.”
I shrugged. “Sure, Pal. You’ve got the right of it. You never had a conversation with the Weasel about Grundy’s prescription, I didn’t find the evidence, and I didn’t leave it where anyone could stumble across it if I don’t show up.”
A smile sloshed across his face briefly. “Now I know you are lying. There is no way you could have anticipated this turn of events.” He came closer with the needle, pulling the plunger back to fill the tube with air. There was a sharp pinch as the tip pierced my arm.
“I’m not talking about anticipation, Doc,” I told him. “I’m talking about sloppy housekeeping. That little book is just lying in my desk drawer. No locks or anything. It’ll be looked through if I don’t show up. My landlord will be wanting the back rent at the very least.”
“Well, we’ll have to take care of that, won’t we?” Fell pulled out the needle and straightened up. He went to the small closet, dug my wallet out of my coat pocket, and pulled out one of my cards. The card disappeared into one coat pocket, and the needle went back into the drawer. He moved to the door. “I’ll be back soon, Mister Cat. I’m sure that you understand the futility of trying to contact the Inspector while I am gone.”
“Speaking of futility, Doc, you may want to have a glance at that card.”
He did so, and a puzzled expression settled onto his long face. “You don’t have your business address on here.”
“I know.”
“How do you stay in business?”
“Barely. Are you ready to help me out now?”
He looked doubtful. “How do I know I can trust you?”
“You don’t. If you think you have another play, make it.” I watched him wrestle for a bit, but I could see where it was leading. I relaxed back into the pillow.
“Okay, Mister Cat. It seems that I have no choice but to accept that what you say is true. Naturally, in exchange for my help, I will expect certain items to be delivered to me.”
“Naturally.”
“Very well.” He went back to the cabinet and retrieved the same needle, only this time, he filled it with the contents of a dusty brown bottle. He turned to me with a dark anticipatory smile. “This is a strong paralytic. You will be conscious and aware, but will be unable to respond. Your heart rate and respiration will drop precipitously – hopefully enough to fool the Inspector.”
“You mean this may not work?”
“Nothing in life is certain, Mister Cat. I’m afraid that you will just have to…trust me.”
- * *
I was under another crisp white sheet. Only this time, I was on a gurney instead of a bed. Doctor Fell had reported my “death” to the Inspector, who was understandably upset at losing a key witness for his case. He’d rushed back to the hospital to confirm the claim. The doc told a simple tale of “drug interactions” and “unknown congenital defects” that was completely plausible and totally unverifiable. It sounded well-rehearsed.
There was one moment where I thought the game was up. As the Inspector was retrieving his handcuffs, my heart gave a heavy, languid beat. I was sure that he felt my pulse under his rough thumb as he was unlocking the bracelet, but it must not have been as forceful as I’d thought, because he just kept grumbling, and went on his way.
Now I was on the loading dock, waiting for the “ambulance” that would take me to the “city morgue.” It was a little chilly, but I couldn’t shiver. All I could do was think. I thought about Dolly, and the Pigs. I thought about Pete, and the man called the Mockingbird. Most of all, I thought about the Weasel, and the trail of broken dreams and shattered lives that he’d casually left behind wherever he went. I owed it to those people to see this one through to the end. I owed Geoff in particular. He’d believed me when I said I’d help him, and now he was under another sheet just like this one. I replayed our conversation over in my head, and kept coming back to the job that’d gotten him involved in all of this: Gruff’s and the mirror.
As soon as I could move again, I was going to pay a visit to the Exchange.
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Dr_D reviewed Version 1 -
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Each chapter seems to get better. Good use of describing characters and scenes. I felt I was in the room with them. You do a good job of keeping a satirical edge.
Looking forward to the next chapter.
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Huntress080 reviewed Version 1 -
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Cute very Cute! It is silly, fun and very play full. Every one has grown up on fairy tales so I think that every one will be able to relate to your story and to your characters. I will look forward to reading more chapters in the future. Keep up the good work
Taemaeri reviewed Version 1 -
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This is a cute piece (hope I am not insulting you by using the word “Cute”). There is an intimate humor about this in that a smile remains on your face while you read it. I was a little confused about whether these are actual animals or if Mister Cat’s mother actually named him Cheshire Cat. If she did make sure something happens to her because that is just cruel. What I want to know is why everyone is shooting each other and why is Mister Cat a suspect. Overall I liked this piece.
Lena17 reviewed Version 1 -
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No, I guess I DIDN’T read this chapter! Ooh, it’s getting really exciting now; I’m on the edge of my seat! And I’m still completely jealous of your amazing ability to capture your audience and fool with their emotions, as you’re doing with mine! Mainly, another terrific installment!
I am in agony over Geoff’s death; I was starting to like him. Although your discriptions of that doctor were very vague, in the sense that I couldn’t tell his intentions (even tho it seemed like you’d meant to have them right out there). For example, I didn’t know what to think when he was coming towards Cheshire with the giant needle. You didn’t give the doctor enough depth or comprehension of character, really. I didn’t know whether he was good or bad, or if he even knew what he was talking about!! HA! The whole character of the doctor just didn’t make much sense.
Great work, I can’t wait to see what happens next!
Best of luck with this piece, & with your future writing!
~JMB
Rave7278 reviewed Version 1 -
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WOW!!! That really kept me interested. You know if you want to change anything that is fine, but I liked the way it ended. I hope you get to complete your goal. You have really great talent and I can see it will take you somewhere someday…good luck and I’m looking forward to seeing more of your work.
TheHeretic reviewed Version 1 -
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I thought this was original, both easy and fun to read. There was nothing too distracting in the text. Not much to pick on really except…
I didn’t get this sentence:
“The walls were a depressing shade of green that made me acutely aware of how cold it was in the room.” Why does the color make him aware of the cold?
Also, there shouldn’t be a comma after curtsey, because “left us alone” is a partial sentence: “Angel gave a little curtsey, and left us alone.”
But like I said, I enjoyed it.
OldShepster reviewed Version 1 -
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What I liked:
“I am Inspector Hector Protector. I am the investigative director for this sector. ” – Impressive.
“Cheshire Cat. Private Detector…er…Detective.” – And even more impressive how you ensured the reader didn’t miss it.
A very nice description of the doctor, very original. I wondered if you could write non-comedy, but that paragraph showed me you could.
“Nothing in life is certain, Mister Cat. I’m afraid that you will just have to…trust me.” – Strong ending to the main body. I love it when the last line harks back to the contents of the chapter while still building anticipation for the next chapter.
What would have made me like it even more:
I didn’t like the last four paragraphs that were tacked on to the end. It removes the cliff hanger ending (“you must trust me”), there were no surprises (I had assumed this was what was going to happen) and if there was humor, I missed it (very possible).
Call me slow, but I can’t figure out how Cheshire is implicated as a partner with the Mockingbird, just because he was the last person to the Rover alive. Since the Mockingbird shot both Cheshire and the Rover, doesn’t that make him more likely to be a partner of the Rover than the Mockingbird?
I’m a little unclear as to why the doctor would simulate Cheshire’s death when he wouldn’t actually kill him. Isn’t this just as likely to cause a search of Cheshire’s office?
“There was one moment where I thought the game was up.” – This sentence gives away the outcome of the ensuing paragraph. Omit this sentence and I might have been genuinely nervous that the game was up.
I don’t usually give line edits since I figure it is usually a matter of preference, but I’m somewhat passionate in my belief that dropping the last word (decisions)from, “and quiet conversations about life-and-death decisions” would have made this an incredibly powerful line.
“as several known of his known rivals” – Reads wrong.
Hope this helps,
Shep
Christopherrr reviewed Version 1 -
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I’d say fun silliness and silly funness. I never really get into longer stuff on here, mostly I am into poetry, but this is really interesting. It reminds me of 8th grade. Our teacher read us these mystery series… God I cant remember the name but its in the back of my mind. This brings me a great feling of nestalgia.
I can hear my terachers voice in my head while reading it. Im going to definitely have to read the previous sections of the story. Very good. I’d say anyway.
EAnonymous reviewed Version 1 -
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Ooh, the story has taken a dark turn, it seems! That doctor is scary!
I loved the Hector Protector stuff! LOL (really)!
You wouldn’t know it was me if I didn’t nitpick about something so…
“Now I was…” – I’d change “Now” to “Then”.
Chesh seems to be very good at talking his way out of seemingly certain doom.
“King’s Men Hospital”... they don’t have a very good record for mending people, do they? ;) Keep it coming, Cat – I’m hooked!
BFD reviewed Version 1 -
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VERY interesting turn of events in this part…I am both fascinated and intrigued. You have such a creative mind! :-)
The introductions shared between Hector and Cheshire were brilliantly funny…I laughed out loud (spelled out, even!) But bringing the doctor into the sinister plot was an extremely nice touch :-)
Can’t wait to see what happens next!
One little note – “as several known of his known rivals” – two knowns? :-)
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