Greg Gumshoe: Private Eye - Chapter 2

Second prompt.
In this chapter use something round, something square, something in triangle shape, and something oval. You are free to use these prompt words or have items that have that shape.
Remember to highlight the prompt words in bold, ALL CAPITALS or in color.
Due on or before 02/04/10 11:59PM WDC time.

genres: romance/love, detective, comedy

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Greg Gumshoe: Private Eye
Chapter 2: "Bin There - Done That"

By Indelibleink

Still prone on the floor, Greg's eyes were glued to the office door that was slowly opening. He reached for the "enforcer," located in his shoulder holster. Considering that it was wringing wet from the coffee spill, the .38 was more 'Juan Valdez' than 'Smith and Wesson', but Greg aimed it at the door anyway. Whoever it was slowly entered the office.

"Freeze, slime-ball, or eat hot lead!" Yeah. Probably overkill with the cop-speak, but that was Greg's favorite saying - well, actually it was tied with 'Do you feel lucky? Well, do you, punk?' - and it had a very good success rate. Plus, it made him feel like he was still on the force. 

There was a loud scream, followed by the words of someone quite scared. "Please don't shoot! I am looking for detective Greg Gumshoe. Can you tell me where to find him?"

"Follow your nose, lady." Greg lowered his handgun. Nearly an ounce of coffee drained from the barrel. "You found him." He turned and flipped the light switch located next to the bookcase, bringing much-needed light upon the occupants of the tiny office.

The light revealed a striking blond, 5'3'' or 5'4'', blue eyes, probably early to mid-thirties, in a light blue business suit. The suit was barely restraining a pair of round boobs that just wouldn't quit, and was tight enough that, physically, anyway, she didn't have too many secrets. Greg, in an attempt to appear professional - no easy task when your white shirt is spattered with coffee and your gun is still dripping caffeine - tried to keep his mind on the job. He looked over at a picture of Julie - at least all that was captured within the capacity of a standard Nikon camera - and addressed his visitor. "Greg Gumshoe, at your service. Please, have a seat." He motioned to an office chair, and she indeed had a seat. Damn! That skirt is short! He shot a glance over at Julie, whose smile seemed much wider earlier this morning, and he took a seat in the swivel chair behind his desk. "Just what can I do for you, ma'am?"

"My name is Babs...Babs Bin Laden. Does the name mean anything to you?"

Greg clicked back and forth on his ballpoint pen and thought for a few seconds. "Let's see...Babs...Babs..." His voice trailed off, and he shook his head. "Nope. Don't think I've ever known anybody named 'Babs', unless you include the strip club, 'cause I think I knew one named..."

"Not the first name, Mr. Gumshoe!" Babs rolled her eyes. "The last name! Bin Laden! As in 'Osama Bin Laden'? Does that ring any bells, or are you too busy staring at my chest?"

That chest reference caught Greg off-guard, primarily because he had been preoccupied staring at, well, Babs's chest! But that wasn't important now, because 'Bin Laden' did 'ring a bell', and Gumshoe liked the tune it was playing. Finding Osama Bin Laden would get him back on the force. Hell's bells! He'd be a national hero. Finding Bin Laden would land him a dinner in the oval office for sure! Maybe even the White House, too! He looked straight into Babs's eyes. "Look, sweetheart, I'm gonna shoot straight with you here: I wasn't looking at your lovely breasts - I was looking into your heart to see if you were on the level with me. That's how I can tell if a client is being square with me." Greg smiled inwardly at being able to make up a line like that - totally on the fly - the mark of a true 'professional' - but also hoped she hadn't picked up on the 'lovely' reference to her boobs...that might have cost him. "Anyway, how are you related to Osama Bin Laden?"

"I'm his wife. Yeah... Believe it. Met on-line, through some dating service. Seriously, people have a hard time understanding how different someone can appear if they just ditch the nightgown and throw on a nice suit. We met in the late 90's. His handle was 'Never Bin Laiden'. I was young and naive at the time. I just never connected the dots, I guess. I didn't even know what his handle meant. I mean, I was just looking for some companionship. You know, long walks on the beach, that sort of thing. Before I knew it, we arranged a meeting at a casino in the Bahamas, we go up in his room, have a few drinks - which I'm sure were doctored - by the way. I wake up the next morning in a nightgown, room service people are calling me "Mrs. Bin Laden," and his peeps are congratulating me; throwing rice and all. And trust me, that handle of his was a lie. For an old guy, let's just say he was doing his part to populate the planet."

"Quite a story, Mrs. B.L. But, really, what brings you here today, to see me, to enlist my services?"

"Well, here's the deal sweetie: it turns out I wasn't the only petal on his plant, if you know what I mean. One day, I'm there in the cave doing my Wilma Flintstone impression, like a good little wife, and in waltzes Daddy Warbucks with another girl on his arm! Here I'm thinking this guy's just into some sort of kinky 'love triangle' thing or something, but that wasn't the case at all! He introduces her to me as another wife! Then I later found out he's got a bunch of us - a whole freakin' harem or something. I said right away that this wasn't for me, but he wouldn't let me leave. I was kept captive in one of his caves for the last 10 years. I escaped when I sneaked out and stole a camel."   

Greg looked at Babs incredulously. "A camel?"

She looked right back at Greg. "It was a fast camel. I want to divorce the no-good slug and get a piece of his fortune, so I need you to find him. If you take the case I'm willing to split the settlement 50-50. Interested?"

"Sure, it's a nice offer, but I'll only take the job if I get half instead. That's my final offer."

Babs rolled her eyes, which was becoming routine in this office. "Okay, you got me. It's a deal." She extended her hand. Just as they were about to shake on it, the office door slowly began to open.

In one gallant, sweeping motion, Greg killed the light switch, put his arm around Babs's waist, and flung her towards the floor, behind the desk, himself close behind. As they hit the deck, the sound of tearing fabric momentarily filled the air waves.

The door slowly continued to open...
       

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word count: 1132      cumulative: 1868