Detective Dick...Private Eye

DETECTIVE DICK-PRIVATE EYE

by, Eli Mellach

I was a detective by trade. Actually, I didn’t have a trade and when I reached 36 my father had made a suggestion. He suggested I become a detective and move out of his house. He also kept saying, you figure it out, Sherlock.
My name is Dick. Dick Marlow- Thomas. I knew early on that I was going to make it if I tried.
I was sitting in my office late one afternoon, reading the paper. I needed a case. I hadn’t had a case since I got the crabs from that seafood place over on Findlay street by the bay. I itched for another case.
And then “she” walked in. Those long legs, long dark hair , sensuous lips, big teeth and one black eye. I was mesmerized. I’d have guessed her at 5’2 125lbs welterweight division…a short drink of water. Like a chaser, only I didn’t. I couldn’t . I hadn’t been asked.
Hi, was all I said. Then I said Can I help you , care for a drink? Come here often? Who do you think will win the pennant this year? I guess I was a little nervous. Saliva was starting to trickle out of the ends of my mouth.
Her mouth opened and I noticed a tooth was missing. All she said was: Dog-gone.
Dog-gone what Miss?
My dog is gone. I smiled that knowing smile I get when something goes off in my head like a thought or a retort but I decided quickly that saying “my dog has fleas” was not going to win me any points. I dabbed at my mouth with my handkerchief.
Why would she come to me, here, now? And, would she come if I called her?
I wasn’t cheap. I was easy but not cheap. And then I remembered, she was here because of the sign on the door. Detective. We detect stuff.
Something told me I had seen this dame before and then she blurted out…I live in your Condo. I’m your next door neighbor, Sylvia.
Oh, uh, yes, I replied. I’ve seen you through the window, Syl.
She hesitated. Her chest seemed to swell up for an instant, then, she sneezed. Then, she coughed. Then, she said:
I know. I’ve spoken to the police about you but right now I need your help. I need you to find my dog.
And you’re a detective, at least that what it says on the mailbox and on your front and back doors.
I invited her to sit down and as she sat she crossed her legs and then uncrossed them and crossed them again and then she turned slightly. She had set me up for a double cross with a half twist. A granny. I gave her a 9.6.
Normally I don’t work on a case like this but I knew I had to take this job. I was broke and the Wolf was at my door. Mr. Wolf, the landlord. I sublet.
Money, the root of all evil but then again evil spelled backwards is “live”, therefore and ergo, money is life. She seemed to sense my next question. “His name is Sparky”.
Who, I asked?
The dog , you idiot. The dogs name is “Sparky”. “I called him that after he knocked over a table lamp in my last apartment and caught the place on fire.
I didn’t think he did it on purpose but I couldn’t be sure. You start to think like this when you’ve been in the detective business as long as I have, six weeks. I mean when I had first been in the business for five , for the first four, oh, never-mind.
“I get $100 a day plus expenses”, I said.
I’ll give you $30 a day and you have three days at most to find him. He is black and white and answers to the name “Rover”. Before I could say anything she injected:
“I’m the only one who ever called him Sparky.
When was the last time you saw Spark, uh, Rover.
Yesterday. All my troubles seemed so far away. He was wearing my ‘Dior’ necklace as a choker. It is a diamond pave necklace with enough diamonds to choke a horse.
As I stood up it hit me. The office light bulb. Got to remember to have that thing raised.
“I’ll take the case.” She smiled, winked, sneezed , coughed and left. She really had bad allergies.
It was Monday. I hated Monday I decided to start looking for the dog on Tuesday.
I was trying to think, if I were a dog, where would I be? I thought of the widow “Smith” but decided that Rover didn’t know her.
When I came back to my senses I turned on the TV and was just getting ready to settle in to another night of reality shows when I heard something at the back door. I instinctively reached for my holster only to remember that my gun permit had been suspended and my gun confiscated by the authorities.
I got up and peeked out the patio door. I’ve got to get curtains I mused.
And then it hit me. Why here, why now? I recognized him instantly. It was the dog from next door.
I invited him in to sit. He gave me his paw. A low- hi five . We split my evening meal and retired early.
I decided to keep the dog in my condo for the next few days so as not to have to give up my windfall, the ninety dollars. The dog and I got along wonderfully except for the two times he tried to hump my leg, but , who could blame him? I had great gams.
At the end of the third day I knocked on my neighbors door with the dog in hand. At first she was happy but then a puzzled look came over her face.
Where is the necklace, she asked?
I don’t know for sure, I replied. I found ROVER several suburbs over in a bad neighborhood. He had been hanging with a pack of street dogs. Bad dogs, I said. The wrong element. In actuality there were no bad dogs, only bad owners.
What the fu… was the last thing I heard her say as I collected my fee and closed the door.
The necklace? Don’t worry, it’s in a safe place. My place.
Oh, C’mon yourself. Ninety dollars for three days work aint a living. Like the song says: I gotta be me! And that costs.
My dad asked me recently; “Are you seeing anyone”?
Yes, I replied, but she doesn’t know it yet.
See you in the funny papers. [END]