By Caleb McCary
Tony took a long drag from the cigarette as he glared at the tattered sign on his office door. “Private ye.” He exhaled, and a cloud of gray smoke blocked the letters from his vision. He stared at the smoldering cigarette butt before rubbing it onto the blank space where the letter “E” had long since fallen away.
“Private ye,” he growled under his breath. “Sounds like the name of some second-rate rapper.”
He flicked the spent butt onto the ground. The pile of blackened cylinders was growing almost as fast as his frustration with his current case. Tony heaved a sigh as he reached a striped arm toward the door and pushed it open. The bell over the door let out an obnoxious tinkle as he stepped into the dingy confines of his office. Sometimes that bell drove him crazy. His partner, Sam, was hunched over a table littered with photographs and newspaper clippings.
Tony hung his shabby fedora on a nail next to the door. “Did you crack it?”
Sam looked up, his hawk-like face lit by a single, naked bulb hanging low from the ceiling. “I think the security camera footage is revealing a pattern to Lucky’s break-ins.”
“That pompous midget is going to force me to come up with a new tagline for our business cards if we don’t crack this case before he strikes again.”
“That might not be a bad thing. ‘Tony and Sam—Private Eyes—We’re Great’ always felt a little pretentious to me.”
Tony poured himself a cup of scorched, black coffee. He sipped the inky sludge and thought magma had just touched his tongue; it was not great. Sometimes he really hated Sam’s singsong voice, but Tony had to admit Sam was a first-rate detective. His nose for sleuthing had served them well the past three years, but this case had stumped them both. If they didn’t crack it soon, they wouldn’t be able to afford rent, and Tony wouldn’t be able to pay Sam.
Sam peered down his long nose at Tony. “As I was saying, I think there’s a pattern here. Not to the jewelry stores that Lucky is hitting but to what is coming up missing.”
Tony took another sip of the murky liquid in his cup. His scorched tongue was having a hard time forming words, plus he knew Sam savored these moments when they were on the verge of unraveling a case.
Sam slid an inventory across the table from the jewelry store that had suffered the initial heist.
“I don’t see anything unusual, Sam.”
“Neither did I. In fact, each robbery looked like a pretty typical smash-and-grab except for one item on the inventory.” Sam leafed through another stack of papers and handed them over.
Tony arrayed the inventories out in front of him like a solitaire deck. He murmured under his breath as he looked over each list. He grabbed the lamp above the table, moving the light so it focused the brightest point on one inventory at a time. Tony stared at the sheets of paper until the bulb started to singe the coarse hair on his arm. Then he saw it. On the very first inventory, Lucky had stolen a charm bracelet. On the second, he’d stolen a heart-shaped, ruby trinket.
“Sam, you sly son of a gun! Our little friend is making himself a charm bracelet with all the accoutrements.”
Sam beamed with pride as the realization hit Tony like a freight train.
“That devious, fun-sized scoundrel. Maybe we won’t have to change our tagline after all!” Tony leapt from the chair. “Come on, Sam! Let’s see if we can find ol’ Lucky at his usual spot.”
As Tony’s eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of The Broken Unicorn, he could just make out Lucky’s green hat poking above his corner booth.
Tony marched across the bar with Sam and slid in beside the sticky-fingered Irishman. “What? No booster seat?”
Lucky raised a pint of Guinness as big as his head. “Gentlemen! Welcome to me pub! Can I get you a drink on the house?”
“Sorry, Lucky. We’re here for business, not pleasure.” Tony placed his fedora on the table and pulled out a cigarette. He pawed at his chest pocket, then turned toward Lucky. “I, uh, seem to have forgotten my lighter. Can you help me out?”
Lucky reached in his pocket and removed a gold-plated lighter with a shamrock etched into the metal. Tony placed the cigarette between his lips and leaned across the table. Lucky flicked the device open, and Tony gave the smoke a few puffs until it glowed bright orange. As he was about to lean back, the dancing flame revealed something gleaming underneath the green sleeve of Lucky’s suit coat.
Tony made eye contact with Sam. “Hey, partner, I think it’s time you followed that schnoz of yours.” Tony glanced toward Lucky’s left hand.
Sam, with raptor-like reflexes, reached across the table, grabbed Lucky’s wrist with one claw, and pulled his sleeve up with the other.
Lucky yelped and tried to jerk his arm away, but Sam had an iron grip.
Tony fingered the golden charm bracelet as he blew a puff of smoke into the little man’s face. Lucky coughed and glowered at the detectives beneath the brim of his hat.
“You know what, Sam? It’s not pretentious if it’s true. We are great.” He unclasped the bracelet and examined it under the light for a few seconds before he dropped it into an evidence bag.
Lucky’s face flushed as he shrieked at the detectives, “Not me lucky charms!”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kellogg’s versus General Mills. Good one!
Ha! I honestly didn’t consider that when I wrote it!
That ending! I had a good laugh.
Confession: I had a few good laughs even as I was writing it!
That just kept getting better. A solid story meets ridiculous breakfast references!
Makes me miss those silly cereal commercials from my childhood.
Great last line.
Glad you liked it! Thanks for reading!
Toucan Sam! – I had to look him up. I got the Lucky Charms first, then Tony the Tiger, but couldn’t figure out the Sam reference.
Really well done. Well placed hints to delight the reader, especially over breakfast.
Glad you enjoyed it! It was a lot of fun to write!
Lol, poor Lucky XD. and that TAGLINE, lol X’D Enjoyed reading this!
So glad you enjoyed it! Thanks for reading!
This story is basically one long dad joke, and it cracks me up. 😂
Four kids. Lots of practice.
Love it!!! That ending!!! Didn’t see that coming!
Glad you liked it!