The Baron's Breifcase

The Baron’s Breifcase

Walter Spy was tired and weary.  He stooped, picked up his jewel encrusted cane and lent against the alley.  The rain had passed now but a cart nearby was dripping through the gloom.  That had been close.  Too close.  His mark, Baron von Huffington had almost seen him.
‘London back-alleys are no place for a man of my age’ Walter mumbled, somewhat surprisingly givien that he was alone.  His cloak swished in the night as he span on his heels and he was gone.
‘Come come, pip pip old chap’ said Raoule the next morning, lighting his church warden with gusto and a match.  Walter and Raoule sat in their wingback chairs at the offices of Sneakyspyspykeepithushhush Incorporated. Walter was at a loss.  Mrs Maddie had employed the help of the hapless duo in the curious case of Von Huffington’s briefcase.
Walter was the best private detective in London.  He had lost an eye in 1928, whilst on the case of an elephant with an attitude problem.  He loved the thrill, and despite the accident decided to become a full time private investigator then and there and hasn’t looked back since.  He had replaced the eye with a magnifying glass-eye, so he became super better at spying and solving clues and reading the small print on letters.
‘Have you found out yet?!’ Enquired a desperate Maddie.
‘I must know, what’s the Baron got in his briefcase!?’
‘Well, I, ahem, must assure you, we’ve come close’ Walter faulted mopping his brow, he felt he was losing his touch.
‘It’s been 6 years!’ She exclaimed
‘I know how long it been!’ Walter cried.  Rouale let out an inappropriately long breath of smoke from his mouth, twiddling his pipe with his hand.  Maddie scowled at him.
‘Tell me all you know about that briefcase.’ She insisted
‘Its black’ Piped up Rouale.
The evil stare the Maddie had lined up for Raoule never reached him because at that moment all that could be heard was musket fire.  The window shattered, Walter fell off his chair, Rouale dropped his pipe and Mrs Maddie, was nowhere to be seen.