A Looting At Rhino’s

By Noah Litle

Few places in Scarabburgh were built for Atlas beetles. Rhino’s Pawn was no exception.

Calvin ducked through the door, taking care not to snag his horns—two on his thorax and one on his head—on the narrow, wooden frame.

A short rhinoceros beetle stood behind the counter, a ring through the horn on his head.

Yikes. That must have been painful.

“How can I help you?” He glanced up at where Calvin’s thorax horns almost scraped the ceiling.

Calvin pulled his notepad and pencil from his suit jacket. “You must be Rhino.” He extended a smile and a claw to the clerk. “Calvin Atlas, with the Tribune. I was hoping I could ask a few questions about the burglary you had yesterday.”

Rhino shook Calvin’s claw warily. “Sure. Ask away.”

“A lute, right? What’s special about this lute? Where did you keep it?”

“We had it hanging on the wall here.” Rhino stepped from behind the counter and pointed to an empty spot on the cluttered wall to his right. “It was pretty rare, I guess. Something like five hundred years old.”

“And you thought that was a good place for it? Why wasn’t it behind glass?”

“Pphht! Wasn’t worth anything.” Rhino shrugged. “Not even sure why anyone would steal that worthless thing.”

Calvin nodded. “Fair enough.” He took a couple notes down:

500 y/o lute in a pawn shop? Odd.

Also odd: 500 y/o lute not worth anything?

A young ladybird beetle burst through the doors. “Where is it? What did you do with it?” A male ladybird. Not uncommon, but always a bit… amusing.

The ladybird turned on him. “What are you laughing at?”

Calvin pulled a straight face. “I’m not laughing.”

But the kid had already moved on. “What did you do with my lute? It was my dad’s!” He grabbed Rhino by the front of the shirt and started shaking him. “Where is it? I want it back! I have the money now. What did you do with it?”

“I told you, Billy. It was stolen. I didn’t have nothing to do with it.”

As the two clawed at each other, Calvin took a closer examination of the wall where the lute had hung. Nothing but empty wall with a ridiculous assortment of other gadgets and instruments hanging around the empty space.

Something on the floor caught his attention. Dust—or rather, the lack thereof. Calvin brushed a claw across the clean floorboards. Barely a speck in spite of the thin layer everywhere else. Someone had swept here recently. But only here.

Why?

To pick something up, obviously.

He turned to glance at the other beetles’ shoes. Billy’s were covered in mud clods and left tracks. Rhino’s were immaculate. Maybe even brand new.

It could have been the kid. He might have come through with those shoes on, taken the lute, and swept up the muddy tracks. Calvin stood, then ducked when his horns tapped on the ceiling.

Whoops.

The other two beetles stared at him. He set the pencil to his pad again. “Hey, kid. Can I ask you a few questions?”

The two pushed away from each other and brushed the wrinkles out of their clothes.

“What do you want?” Billy asked.

“Calvin Atlas, from the Tribune.”

“So?”

“I’m looking into this little burglary, and I was hoping you could tell me a little bit about the lute.”

He shook his head and, with one last glare at Rhino, turned to leave. “I don’t have time for this.”

Calvin glanced between them, deciding to take a gamble. “What if I told you I know who the burglar is?”

That stopped the kid in his tracks. Scowling, he turned to face Calvin. “What do you know about it?”

Calvin smiled. He could imagine the kid taking it.

“Alright, nobody move.” Rhino pulled a pistol out of his jacket and backed up slowly, waving the gun between the two beetles.

“That’s unexpected,” Calvin mused as he and Billy raised their claws.

“I’m going out the back door, and you two are going to sit tight right here.”

“I knew you stole it!” the kid shouted.

Rhino swiveled toward Billy. “Yeah, I took it.” He pointed the gun at Calvin again, backing toward a door behind the counter. “Who told?”

Calvin looked between the beetles.

Rhino didn’t wait for an answer. “I’m gonna kill you. I was gonna be miles away by the time anyone knew!”

“You could have been, too.” Calvin nodded toward Billy. “I thought he was the burglar.”

A whistle shrieked, and Coprini beetles flooded through the front door. All with blue uniforms, miniscule horns, and tiny truncheons or pistols. Most were smaller than Rhino but bigger than Billy.

“Claws in the air! Drop your weapons!”

Rhino made a dash for the back door.

Calvin was prepared. He lowered his head, dropping his horn right in Rhino’s way. Calvin jerked in that direction as his horn caught on Rhino’s ring. Rhino screamed and dropped the gun, bringing his claws to the piercing. Calvin lifted him and set him down in the middle of the group of cops.

Rhino whimpered and rubbed his horn.

Eh. He’d walk it off.

“There you go.” Calvin nodded to the cops. “Need anything else?”

A cop looked at him, then glanced at Billy. “Just come in for questioning. Both of you.”

“What about my lute?” Billy asked.

But the cop was already busy talking to someone else.

Calvin scratched his head. It worked out but didn’t add up. If it wasn’t the kid who stole it, then why had it been swept? He took a closer look at the spot.

“Ha!” Calvin laughed louder than he had intended to. Great. He had everyone’s attention. He pointed to the floor. “It’s a trap door.” Calvin knelt and opened the trap.

“Ha!” He didn’t care how loud he was this time. “Who would’ve thunk?”

Right on top in the hidden compartment sat the lute.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Noah Litle, as a writer, is best described as a reluctant wordsmith. His real passion is for stories and story analysis. He likes rainy days, hanging out with his friends and family, and analyzing his favorite movies. His dream is to glorify his Creator through glorious art, and practices doing so through arranging music, creating with Legos, designing the occasional origami model, and of course, writing stories.

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