Bayliss
Diamonds. It’s always diamonds.
On the way, Miss Beck tried to distract me with stuff about pets–a pet called “Bayliss” in particular–possums, and her husband. Which immediately raised red flags. Why was she trying to distract me from my job? Maybe Miss Beck had more to do with this matter than she was letting on.
“Damn, Siamese! they sold me out!”
@Beckdawrek , there’s no Siamese involved. It’s only me investigating, and Grandma, Dennis, and … well you, being investigated. Yes, I think you have a motive to kill that teddy bear. Miss Beck, is there anything you’d like to spill?
I note that Miss Beck, that classy dame, squirms uncomfortably in her chair.
I look around my office. There;s a picture of Seabiscuit., A picture of Babe Ruth. Other odds and ends. Do I trust this woman, or do I not?
The deskman was asleep in his chair, snoring like Winston Churchill. I laid a hand over his mouth, pinched his nose closed and waited for him to wake up.
Yes, I’m stealing from Raymond Chandler. Thee Little Sister, I believe.
Please tell me they weren’t smuggling . . . . . corndogs.
I don’t know nuthin’
Egad! The Corndog Caper is afoot!
~VOW
I’m starting to smell corn dogs.
When I go out I’m looking for corndog clues. Sticks or little sonic bags.
My first thought was that Beck had acquired a young dog–they like to chew things.
Has Bigfoot been seen in the courtyard?
Yeah. Her remark told me she knew something. What it was, she wasn’t saying. But she knew things. I got curious.
@Beckdawrek , talk to me about Grandma, Dennis, and the bear. And you.
Grandma turned to me in the elevator, under her breath she hissed at me to back off. She said “I know people”
And I said loudly Dennis shouldn’t be her courier for diamonds or whatever she was hiding, in his Teddy.
At that moment the doors open on my floor.
I glanced back at her face. She looked evil.
I believe you got it wrong, it’s the other way around. I wonder whether it is the same kid.
Yep. Poor kid hasn’t been quite right since he swallowed Grandma’s big, honkin’ diamond ring.
First, it was dry mustard mixed with warm water. Then it was soapsuds–the cold, nasty ones left in the sink after washing the dinner dishes, including the big iron skillet. They finished it all off with syrup of ipecac. Poor kid would just NOT puke!
Then it was mineral oil, followed by castor oil. Milk of magnesia. Epsom salts. Carter’s Little Pills. Someone even found a bottle of Fletcher’s Castoria!
The ring must have grown arms and legs and was hanging on for dear life to the kid’s duodenum.
Finally, he was locked in the bathroom, naked. SOMETHING was going to explode, and it wouldn’t be very pretty.
I don’t WANNA know nuthin’!
~VOW