By Susan Lyttek
Name’s Spade, Samara Spade. And much to Mom’s chagrin, I’m following in my Dod’s—dear old dad’s—footsteps.
Or at least attempting to. After my fiasco with the lion, I wondered if Dod would give me another case. For weeks, I did paperwork. Yawn.
Dod was off on another case when he came in. “I didn’t do it!”
Wavy brown hair and a dreamy Latin accent, too? I took a deep breath. “Didn’t do what?”
“Any of it! I don’t even own a gun.”
Think like a professional, Sam. Don’t swoon at those chocolate eyes. “Start at the beginning, please.”
“You’re a detective, no?”
“I’m a detective, yes.” At least today. “But I can’t help unless you tell me what’s going on.”
He sighed and collapsed into our half-busted armchair. “My name is Aba Menatari. The police called me for questioning. Some owner say he saw my taxi after shots fired. But I had another fare. Across town. Still owner insistent. He say I cause all sorts of damage.”
I ached to believe him. “Obviously, if the police let you go, they can’t prove it.”
He handed me a card. “This officer is convinced I’m guilty.”
Lieutenant Drake. Of course. “I’ll talk to him.” I needed one more piece of ammunition. “Do you know the address they claim you’ve vandalized?”
He nodded. “Is on back of the card.”
I turned it over. Custom Mirrors, 525 East Main. “Okay. Make sure you only take fares on the west side of town for now.”
“No airport runs? That’s where big money is.”
“Sorry. We have to keep your nose clean until I get it sorted.” If I got it sorted.
He left. And then it dawned on me… I hadn’t even demanded my retainer.
Drake was in his office.
“Miss Spade.” He may have remembered my name, but his tone already kicked me to the curb.
“I have a client. Mr. Menatari. He says you think he’s guilty.”
Drake’s laugh sounded like a rooster choking. “Think? I know. When an upstanding businessman says a taxi driver keeps harassing him, damaging merchandise, and has pictures to prove it, it’s an open and shut case.”
I heard a loud “but”. “So why isn’t he in jail?”
The officer ground his teeth. “Because somehow he was in two places yesterday. I haven’t figured out how, but when I do, he’ll be in the slammer faster than ice melts in summer.”
“Can I see the pictures?”
Drake shrugged. “It won’t help.”
Sure enough, one Polaroid showed a bullet hole in a window and, beyond the glass, a cab speeding away. It did look cut and dry. But something seemed off. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
“Giving up, right?”
I saw why Dod didn’t like him. “Nope. Heading to the scene.”
“Won’t do you any good!” he shouted.
I’d never been in a mirror factory before. The sheer amount of glass was staggering. I said as much to the receptionist.
“Ah, you get used to it after a while. You don’t even notice your reflection when you see it so much.”
I admired a few of the full-length displays. In the corner, between two of them, was a bullet hole. Same one I’d seen in Drake’s picture. Across the lobby was what I assumed to be a two-way mirror with a large crack in it. “A bit of an altercation here, huh? I didn’t think guns and glass went together.”
Rather than gossiping as I thought she might, she looked down at her hands and fiddled with her engagement ring. “Yes, well. Someone doesn’t like the owner.”
I moved closer to the two-way.
She cleared her throat. “What are you interested in buying?”
Nothing, but I really wanted to look around. “Not sure. What kind of mirror works best in an entryway?”
The shopkeeper’s bell chimed. I turned to see a gargantuan blond in a shirt too tight for his muscles.
The receptionist jumped to her feet. “Jimmy! What are you doing here?”
“Can’t a man visit his fiancée?” He enveloped her in a hug.
“But if Mr. Spriggs shows up…”
“Let him!”
“Jimmy, I need this job.”
With her distracted, I glanced through the cellophane that covered the crack. In addition to the expected desk, the office had a couch and lots of pillows. Maybe the owner slept here? I pulled out my small instamatic and took several quick pictures.
The girl and Jimmy were still arguing, and I’d seen enough, so I mumbled goodbye and left. On the street, a taxi had backed up to my front bumper.
I went back inside. “Is cab A8 yours?” I asked Jimmy.
“Yeah. Need a ride?”
“No. I need to leave, and you’re blocking my car.” I pointed outside. As my gaze followed my hand, the truth stared me in the face. Two pieces of glass reflected against each other, distorting the image. I had the pieces now, but not the reason.
As Jimmy moved his taxi, I snapped a shot, ostensibly of the mirror near the door, and recreated Drake’s picture.
Then, in my car, I took a few more of Jimmy’s taxi before I left the crime scene.
My trip to the one-hour photo was the longest in my life. But it was worth it when I finally walked into Drake’s office. “It was a reflection, Drake. A reflection of another cab’s name. You’re looking for an A8, not ABA, cab.”
And the story? One as old as the hills. The owner had made moves on his receptionist, Jimmy’s fiancée. And Jimmy had done a few drive-by shootings to show his displeasure.
When I told him, Aba was so grateful, he offered me a lifetime of cab fares.
Maybe I’ll sell my car.
Can you guess which song from the 1980's inspired this story? Share in the comments!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
This was hilarious and I loved it! Nice job!
Thanks! She’s fast becoming one of my favorite characters.
Super fun! I liked seeing Samara Spade again, and this was an interesting mystery!
Thank you so much!
Nice, the mirror shop is fun, always good for a good twist.
Even better when that twist fits the song!
Lots of fun, and it was cool having a sequel to Samara Spade’s escapades!
Well, there’s already another Samara Spade scheduled for next month, so you have something else to look forward to!
Very fun read. Is the song “Room Full of Mirrors” by Jimi Hendrix?
Glad you had fun with it! No, sorry, that’s not the song.
Oh, dear readers, guess what? This story was actually inspired by a song from 1980s. We’re not sure how it snuck into our 1970s batch, but no worries–it’s a great story, and we’re still offering the chance to win a $10 Amazon gift card (first Havok Horde member to comment with the correct guess gets one entry in a random drawing at the end of the month). Just wanted to give you a heads-up so you can be searching the right decade for your answers! // Havok Team
This is not an 80s song. It is a 70s song.
Okay… I googled it and I’m shocked. I could have sworn it was 70s. I didn’t think the group made any albums after their members started making solo albums. That and the fact that the song title is in the story (sort of) should help with the guesses!
And I do apologize for choosing a song from the wrong decade. Blame it on faulty memory of my teen years!
No worries, Susan! This could easily happen if the song was listed in error on a 70s hit songs list, or as you said, it’s easy to miss a decade when recalling when you listened to something. If people weren’t trying to guess the song, we wouldn’t have mentioned it at all. Just thought they could use the tip, once we realized it. :-)
Glad to see you’re continuing the adventures of Sam Spade!
I fairly new to Havok. I really liked this story. It kept my attention all the way through and now I want to go and read the other stories about Samara Spade. Is the song “Two Places at the Same Time”?
Good guess on the song, but no. Glad you liked the latest Samara Spade adventure!
I love the gender swap. It is hilarious how Spade tries not to fall for the Latin cabbie. Great job!
Thanks!
So surprised to see it’s not yet guessed. Though one person mentioned they didn’t know this title track… It did make it to top 40 where I lived!