The Third Pig Detective Agency: The Complete Casebook. Bob Burke
idea how it was stolen?’
‘I’m going out to Casa Aladdin tomorrow to have a look. It strikes me that it must have been a professional job. I imagine a man like him would have state-of-the-art security. Someone that rich with something he treasured that much is hardly likely to keep it under his bed beside the chamber pot.’
‘That narrows it down a little. Depending on how good his security system is you’re lookin’ for someone with enough dough to hire the right help, or the technical smarts to do the job themselves.’
I thought about it. ‘Maybe, but if they had those kind of resources, they probably wouldn’t need the lamp, would they?’
Blue sniggered. ‘Think about it. Ever seen a Bond movie? The kind of guys who would want to steal this are probably thinking about taking over the world, not how they might put the owner of a laundry out of business. We’re not talking washing powder and scruffy underwear here, we’re talking big weapons, thousands of thugs with large guns, huge secret headquarters hidden under water. Think big and you have your likely villains.’
This really wasn’t what I wanted to hear. I was hoping more for a pawnshop and an easy recovery not megalomania and superweapons. A small-time detective probably wouldn’t have much of a chance against that kind of opposition – particularly not this small-time detective.
It was time to go and detect. I slid out of the booth and put my overcoat back on. ‘Enjoy my coffee,’ I said to Boy Blue. ‘It’s on me.’
He didn’t acknowledge either my generosity or my departure. Typical informant!
I waved goodbye to Rumpelstiltskin on my way out and left the restaurant. Night was falling and, as I headed back to the office, I tried not to laugh out loud as Grimmtown’s bright young things made their appearance. I’m no connoisseur of fashion, but to my non-discerning eye this autumn’s look was clearly vampire. Lots of black: shoes, clothes, capes, lipstick, hair and eyes. In fact, if there hadn’t been any street lights, it would have been difficult just to see them. But, unfortunately, you could still hear them and, in keeping with the theme, there were lots of ‘velcomes’, ‘do you vant a drink’ and other stupid vampire sayings from cheap Hollywood B-movies. Nothing like an idiotic trend to send the fashionistas flinging themselves like lemmings over the cliffs of good taste. Six months from now it would probably be the Snow White look and Dracula would be ‘so last year, darlink’.
Outside the Blarney Tone Irish bar, a small man in a bright green outfit was trying to entice customers inside to sample the evening’s entertainment. At the Pied Piper Lounge a group of idiots dressed as rats tried to provide an exciting alternative to the more discerning client. It was just as well it was getting dark. No self-respecting punter would enter either premises if they had seen it in daylight.
A number of fast-food sellers were hawking their less than appetising wares on street corners. Hungry though I was, I restrained myself – rat-on-a-stick with caramel sauce didn’t engage my senses as perhaps it should. It looked like another busy night in the town’s social calendar and one I was, in all honesty, looking forward to missing – not being the social type at all.
I walked the mean streets of Grimmtown back to my office – the further I walked, the meaner they got. I turned into an alleyway that I frequently used as a shortcut. As Grimmtown Corporation hadn’t seen fit to light up the alley, I made my way carefully along in the dark, trying not to kick over any trashcans (or any sleeping down-and-out ogres – they were never too happy when suddenly awoken).
As I stumbled along I became aware of a shuffling noise behind me. As a world-famous detective, I had developed a sense of knowing when I was being followed and now this spidey-sense was screaming ‘Danger, danger, Will Robinson!’ I spun around, trotters raised, ready to fight and, in the same fluid movement, flew backwards into the rubbish behind me when a large fist punched me powerfully in the stomach.
Gasping for breath, I shook old potato peelings and rotting fruit off my suit and slowly came to my feet, trying to see who had hit me. In the darkness I could barely make out my fists in front of me let alone see anything else. I heard the shuffling as my adversary moved towards me again. This time I was ready and aimed a powerful left hook-right hook combo (one of my favourites) at where I guessed my assailant to be. Both punches made satisfying contact with absolutely nothing and, as my momentum carried me forward, I received another blow to the stomach and a kick on the backside. The impact spun me around and I became reacquainted with the pile of rubbish that I had struggled up out of just a few seconds earlier.
This time I elected to stay down. I knew when I was beaten. The question was just how beaten was I going to become. I was also kind of worried. What kind of creature was I dealing with that could hit me so hard yet not be there when I hit back? Having been in more than one brawl in my time, I knew I wasn’t that slow so I didn’t think I could have missed my assailant.
I felt rather than saw the presence beside me as it bent down and grabbed me by the head with both hands. A voice whispered in my ear.
‘Stay away from things that don’t concern you,’ it said in an accent I couldn’t quite place but one that sounded vaguely familiar.
This just added to the mystery: a powerful creature that hit like a hammer, had a body that let punches pass through it, spoke like an extra out of a cheap ’40s movie and had powerfully bad breath. I had to ask, of course.
‘What kind of things?’
‘Your new client and his missing ornament. It might be much healthier for you if you found another line of work in the short term.’
‘Says who?’ I was getting a little braver (and a lot more foolish).
‘Says someone who thinks that you mightn’t like hospital food and might prefer walking without the aid of hired help.’
I was now even more confused, as well as smelling like a cheap fruit and vegetable store. How had someone found out about my new client so quickly and, more to the point, why didn’t they want me involved in the case? Before I could ask anything else the voice said, ‘Remember our little conversation, otherwise I’ll call again. Now it’s time for sleepies. Nighty night.’
There was a firm tap to the top of my head by something hard, a bright explosion of light and then darkness as what was left of my faculties took command and wisely elected to shut everything down. Unconscious, I slumped to the ground.
Two things struck me almost simultaneously when I woke up: the sky was incredibly blue and the only part of me that didn’t actually hurt was my left elbow. My mind then went from neutral into first gear and started to tie the two thoughts together into a coherent concept. As I could see the sky, it meant I was lying on my back and the fact that I hurt all over was probably something to do with why I was lying on my back. Then the memory of the previous night’s encounter sauntered casually into my head to force my brain into a higher gear. I’d been beaten to a pulp by an invisible someone who I couldn’t touch, who had fists like mallets and knew about my current case. This was not a good start to the day and the prospect of another encounter with Gruff at my new client’s residence meant it was only going to get worse.
I groaned as I hauled myself to my feet, shedding bits of cardboard, rotten food and used magic beans. I smelled like a garbage cocktail and figured that my new employer wouldn’t take too kindly to my turning up at his residence in my present state. Like all good gumshoes, I always kept a spare suit at the office for those important occasions when I needed a one – like being roughed up, thrown in the river or being forced to spend the night sleeping in garbage. This was obviously one of those important occasions but after taking a step forward (very slowly, very carefully) and then collapsing back on the ground, I surmised I might be a while getting back to the office. I felt in my pockets for my cell phone, hoping to get Gloria to