It’s even more fun if you read them in order. ;)
Thanks, Curt!
Crime, Thrillers & Mystery / A Pocketful of Rye - Part 1
I sighed and stretched out in my chair, listening to my back pop. I had just come off of thirty-six hours of staking out the Sparrow’s place. He was in custody now, arrested for the murder of Cock Robin – with a bow and arrow, no less. I’d gotten lucky and dug up a witness to the hit before he flew.
Business had been good since I’d cracked the Weasel case. He’d gone and gotten himself popped, and I was called in by his girlfriend – my secretary, incidentally, Dolly – to find out the whos and whys of it. I’d managed to do it, and had just barely avoided being one of the victims myself. It was your standard jilted-lover-becomes-a-professional-assassin-and-kills-everyone-around-her-in-a-fit-of-jealous-greed case. It was almost embarrassing that it took me so long to figure it out. Along the way, I’d managed to make a couple of wise investments at the Banbury Cross horse track, and was able to move to this office downtown. It was either that, or spend most of my newfound dough on getting the bloodstains out of the floorboards. But I had solved it, and that was the important part, because word had gotten around, and now I was the go-to guy for those people that didn’t trust the police to put forth their best efforts in helping them.
I was about to head home for some well-deserved rest when my assistant showed up in my office doorway.
“You ain’t lookin’ good, Boss,” he said. “Kinder drawn out an’ sech.”
“Long night, Br’er. You get anything on the Henny Penny case?”
He took a satchel from under his arm, walked over, and placed it on my desk. “Tooby sho’. She be runnin’ one er dem insu’ance scams, like you said.”
I leafed through the satchel’s contents. Br’er had tracked down one of Henny’s partners, a Mr. Locky, and it was his testimony that had cracked the whole thing. It was good work for the rabbit. He was showing promise.
I lit a cigarette and pushed the papers back inside. “Not bad, kid. Give it to Dolly to file, and have her send Miss Daddles the bill.
“All right, Boss. You goin’ ter head home fo’ awhile?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I’ll be back tomorrow. Go ahead and take the rest of the day off. Dolly, too.”
The rabbit grinned. “Dat’s right neighbo’ly er ya, Boss.” He loped out of the office, and I heard him talking to Dolly. A moment later, a pile of blond hair peeked around the doorway.
“The bunny says we can go, but I thought I’d double check.”
I waved a paw at her. “Yeah, Doll. Take off. The filing can wait until tomorrow.”
She smiled. “Thanks, Chesh. See you tomorrow. Need me to lock up?”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Okay. See ya.” I heard the sounds of general packing up, and then the outer door opened and closed.
I sat and looked out the window over the busy street while I finished my cigarette. A lot of people moved around down there, and I amused myself by making up improbable stories about them. One thing I’ve learned, though, is that people can get themselves into weirder situations than you can imagine for them. Like that “sky is falling” scam. It surprised me that people were still getting taken in by that. On the other hand, if they weren’t so greedy and gullible, I’d be back in the old place at best, and unemployed at worst.
I was crushing out my cigarette, and had just reached up to turn off the desk lamp when I heard the outer door to the office open and close again.
“What’d you forget, Doll?” I called out.
By way of answer, two men walked through my doorway. One was tall and thin, and had a sad-looking, drawn-out face, like he expected to be disappointed all of the time. The other was short and fat, and two hard eyes gleamed out of his round face.
“Well well,” Short and Fat said. “If it isn’t the famous detective, Cheshire Cat.”
“Can I help you, gentlemen?” I said.
“‘Can I help you, gentlemen?’” he mimicked me. “You’re going to help us, gumshoe; it’s not a question of whether or not you can.”
“And why is that, you figure?”
“You know the Weasel, cat?”
That was an obvious question, so I didn’t answer. Short and Fat continued.
“It may interest you to know that you ruined an ongoing Federal investigation when you took on that case.”
“Not especially,” I said.
“Well it interests you now, because you’re going to make it up to us.”
“And you figure this why?”
“Because it’s your civic duty, flatfoot. And because we have highly-trained, highly-motivated accountants standing by to go over your books for the last six of your nine lives.” He looked around the office. “Nice place you got here. How do you afford it?”
“Clean living.”
He snorted. “I’ll bet.” He flipped open a wallet in front of me. It held a badge and an ID card.
“W. Russ,” I read.
“Yeah. That’s me.”
“What about him?” I asked, pointing at his partner.
“T. Carpenter,” Russ said, and another ID card was presented in confirmation.
“Well now that we all know each other,” I said, “I can call you by name when I tell you to get lost.” I started to rise, but Russ’s meaty hand pushed my back into my chair.
“You’ll leave when I’m finished, cat.”
“Well make a federal case out of it, why don’t you?”
“It is, you idiot.”
“Oh.” We hard-boiled detectives are masters at witty repartee.
“Like I said, your snooping made us have to pull out of a two-year investigation into the Weasel’s business activities.”
“Not my fault, Blue Bell Boy. If you had been a little bit smarter, maybe I wouldn’t have had to figure it all out for you.”
Russ sneered. “You think I give a diddle dumpling about some old painting? I’m talking about the Mockingbird.”
The Mockingbird. She was the aforementioned jilted lover that had popped the Weasel, and nearly ventilated me before it was all done.
“What about her?” I asked, rubbing at the stump of my right ear. The Mockingbird had taken off half of it with a well-placed bullet.
“We have reason to believe that she was going to kill someone.”
“An assassin? Kill someone? Wow. You’re quite the ten o’clock scholars, aren’t you, boys?”
Carpenter leaned over and casually slapped me. It was his only contribution to the conversation so far, and I didn’t ask him to repeat himself.
“You paying attention now?” Russ asked, and I nodded in an appropriately surly manner. “Good. Like I said, we came across some evidence that she was involved in a plot to kill someone. We were hoping to use her to lead us to the rest of the conspirators, but you threw a monkey wrench into that plan.”
“Sorry, boys, but you know how it goes. When you’re watching two women wrestle for a gun, it’s anyone’s guess how it’s gonna play.”
“Shut up,” Russ offered. “Since you’re the one that caused all the problems, me and my partner decided we’d let you help us straighten it all out.”
“What do you mean?”
Russ leaned across the desks on his fists. His knuckles cracked as he placed his weight on them. He smiled unpleasantly. “You’re going to stop a royal assassination.”
I looked up at him. “Oh yeah? Who’s the target?”
“King Cole.”
That surprised me. All of the things I’d read about the old king indicated that he was nothing but merry. “Why’d someone want to take him out?”
Russ straightened up and pushed his hat back. He took a handkerchief and swiped it across his sweaty forehead. “His country ain’t doing so well. Inflation and unemployment are both in double digits. It’s been that way for a while. The king had the idea that he would turn the country into a cultural destination. Sank most of the budget into developing music festivals and building art museums. But it hasn’t taken off the way he’d hoped. He’s been asked to step down, but he’s refused. I guess someone got tired of waiting for him to die on his own.”
“Seems a little outside your jurisdiction, fellows. Where do you – and more specifically, I – come into this?”
“The king is coming here as part of a promotional tour. He’s visiting orchestras and artists all over to try and convince them to be part of the next festival. He’s desperate to get people to attend, and figures a personal appearance will help sway them. Part of our job is to protect visiting dignitaries.”
I rubbed my jaw. “Where is it supposed to happen?”
“During the concert.”
“When?”
“A few weeks from now.”
“Well if you know so much, why don’t you just stop the concert?”
Russ shook his head. “State Department won’t let us. It’s…” he sneered “a diplomatic overture and ‘the king would take it amiss if we were to stop it.’”
“So what’s your plan, then?”
“We’re gonna put you in with the orchestra, so you can try and figure out who’s behind it before the performance.”
“Why don’t you use some of your own people? Why bother me over it?”
Russ gestured at the newspaper on my desk. “You see the Hamelin piper bust a coupla months ago?”
“Yeah. What of it?”
“All our people that had any musical talent were involved in that. Unfortunately for us, they got a lot of publicity. Like pictures in the paper kind of publicity.”
“What makes you think I’m your perfect backup plan?”
Russ pulled a small notebook from his jacket pocket, and flipped through it until he found the page he wanted. “You played fiddle at the Laughing Dog for a number of years. After that, you were the vocalist and manager for a group of musicians over in Bremen. There was an incident there that got you into the detective business, right?”
I nodded. “Yeah. We ran into a group of robbers one night.”
“Well there you go.” He put his notebook away. “You can play, and you can put the pieces together as you go.”
“You’re forgetting one thing, though.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m kind of well-known myself.”
Russ looked at Carpenter, then back to me, and burst out laughing. Carpenter’s expression didn’t change. “Don’t flatter yourself,” Russ snorted. “You might be good for finding missing sheep, or figuring out who took out a two-bit hustler like the Weasel, but your name doesn’t even come up in these circles.”
“Gee, Russ. How can I resist all this sweet-talk? Of course I’ll help you.”
He straightened his tie. “That was never in doubt, flatfoot.” He pulled a card out of his vest pocket. “Here. Be at this address two days from now. Carpenter here’ll drop off the notes you’ll need tomorrow.”
“Can’t wait. Wednesdays are always gloomy. He’ll liven the place right up.”
Carpenter started for me again, but Russ put out a hand and stopped him. “Make your jokes while you can, cat. You’re just the bait on this, and if you have to take a bullet to draw out the killer, I won’t lose any sleep over it.”
“Nice to know you care, Russ. Now shoo, fly, I’m late for a meeting with a more important client than you.”
“Oh yeah? Who might that be?”
“My bed. Go away.”
They left without another word, and I spent a few minutes waiting to make sure they were gone. I turned off the lights and locked the door behind me. The old elevator rumbled up to my floor, and I pulled the gate shut behind me.
I headed through the revolving door and out into the street. The sun was sinking fast, and clouds were coming in from the East. It was coming up on quitting time, and cabs had started congregating up and down the block. I grabbed one and headed home.
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F_A_Trueman reviewed Version 1 -
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I really enjoyed reading this piece of writing.
You use dialogue very well – not only does it draw us to the characters, but it’s credible: we can really believe that they would say something like that.
I envy your confident command of language. I read through this right to the end without stopping because it drew me in. Great work! I hope to see more soon.
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Curtastrophe reviewed Version 1 -
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Sir Catastrophe,
I’ve reviewed a few of your other pieces (parts 3 and 4) of your ongoing tale and must admit I still find myself spellbound by your characterizations, use of dialogue, and wit.
I still think that you rely on “had”, “was”, etc. too often but we seem to be in agreement that this is an issue of style so I’ll stop there…
However I must return to my praise that this is a really fun and interesting read and I’m actually intriuged to see where it’s going. Good job.
-Curt
Weaver reviewed Version 1 -
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The bit about ‘the Henny Penny case’ at the beginning is funny.
I like the idea of the Walrus and the Carpenter as government agents. (I never trusted those two anyway.)
I was a bit surprised to learn that Chesh used to be a musician. I guess that particular nursery rhyme referrence caught me off guard. That’s good; it means you’re not becoming predictable.
“Clean living.” That excuse never holds up indefinitely… :)
”...After that, you were the vocalist and manager for a group of musicians over in Bremen. There was an incident there that got you into the detective business, right?” I sense another story in this… I hope that you tell us more about the aforementioned ‘incident’ either in this story or a later one. (I’m sure the name ‘Breman’ is important, but I’m not getting the referrence right now…)
Lena17 reviewed Version 1 -
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Hmmm, I will say this: your synopsis in your Author’s Note sounds exciting; but this chapter wasn’t very much so. Maybe it’s just that it’s your first chapter to a new series, introducing this new storyline; that we readers are all still wrapped up in the magic you created in “Hush, Little Baby,” & we’re beginning to expect too much from you! SOOO sorry! I know you must be exhausted, keeping up with this incredible concept you’ve created. I myself have fallen behind on my own writing, & it’s COMPLETELY KILLING me!!
Just the issues I had with this chapter: Russ & Carpenter were kinda boring; I just couldn’t wait for them to stop talking!
The intro of this was very good, however. You still have a grasp on that classic crime thriller style I love from you!
Best of luck with this series; don’t worry, I’m still looking forward to following the rest of this, as I love your work! _
~JMB
BFD reviewed Version 1 -
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No rest for the weary, huh…lol :-)
Great set up! I absolutely love the Walrus & Carpenter reference! Imagining them as federal agents tickles my brain – lol :-)
Taking Chesh & friends into another plot is fantastically ambitious – and I commend you for being able to do that so well. These characters mean something to me, as a reader, after having been through the first adventure, and I’m glad to see that there is more :-)
Keep’em coming :-)
justindecker reviewed Version 1 -
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I haven’t read anything like this in a while. Thank you for reminding me of what great work really is. Oh by the way, flatfoot is probably the funniest word I’ve read today. Thanks for keeping me entertained and making me laugh (I laughed when I saw the word flatfoot). Keep at it. Never give up. Never give in.
Mario007 reviewed Version 1 -
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Well you certainly aren’t wasting your time with this. Its really nice to Chesh once again at the start of the investigation when all is to be figured out. Also I like the way you made this story a real continuation of Hush, Little Baby and not just another story of Chesh without any references. It’s quite refreshing to see that this time the case is much mroe different than the last time, whne its more about finding out who will be the assasing before the murder actually happens.
My favourite line: “It was your standard jilted-lover-becomes-a-professional-assassin-and-kills-everyone-around-her-in-a-fit-of-jealous-greed case.”-just perfect.
My only crtitique is that becasue of the authors notes i knew who Russ and Carpenter before they actually said in the story. I mean I know usually at the back of the books you have some kind of synopsis(that always gives out too mcuh information) but I just had to find some criticism on your work and sicne the story seemed perfect I had to resort to critiquing authors notes…
tarleisio reviewed Version 1 -
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If your only goal is to keep a fun thing going, I say you should roll this baby all the way to the sunset of happily-ever-after. Not many detective stories have made me laugh quite so hard as this one, not just because your premise is so original, but because you maintain that slightly surreal Lewis-Carroll—meets-Raymond-Chandler-in-an-epic-gang-bang tone throughout, and give your story some unique twists and turns along the way.
Crime stories, no matter which way you slice or dice them, run to a set formula, not that I consider that a bad thing at all. Whether that formula succeeds or not depends on the talent of the writer for adding some new and unexpected verbal spice to the mix, and here, you’ve succeeded beyond anything I expected. Meanwhile, I shall be breathless with anticipation over the next installment, and I’m adding this to my favorites list…right this minute.
Do us a favor. Please don’t stop! I, for one, shall be pathetically grateful if you don’t!
EAnonymous reviewed Version 1 -
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So the Cheshire Cat is the same cat from Hey Diddle Diddle? Nice touch. You must read a lot of Mother Goose to find so many ways to reference her (and fairy tales, too). I love the Walrus and the Carpenter reference as well! I’m very happy to see you’re continuing the saga of Chesh & friends! I’m also glad to see that music will feature in this story, as I’m a musician myself. Loved the “sky is falling” scam too. Keep it up, Cat! Oh – was the singing for a group in Bremen a reference to something I didn’t get, or a plot element?
FriendsSmile reviewed Version 1 -
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How delightful! I enjoyed meeting old friends in a new setting, fo’ shure!
My biggest critique is the punctuation. For example, the lack of commas makes some of the dialog hard to process at “Well well” would be “Well, well”) and “Well if you know so much, why don’t…” would be “Well, if you know so much, why don’t…” Other sentences are close to being run-ons, for example, “But I had solved it, and that was the important part….” A semicolon in there somewhere would really smooth out the presentation.
I would also suggest looking for repeated words and change one or the other. For example, “There was an incident there,” ““Here. Be at this address two days from now. Carpenter here’ll drop….” Your reader has to decode why the words are different, a process you can avoid by reducing redundant word choice.
I can’t wait for part II!
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