The Case of The Missing Hamster: Part Four.
The Fourth Bit: Where explanations are given and a pervert is covered in jam.
We were sat on and around the kitchen table. I was in a chair opposite Clare. Pete was sat to my right. Humphrey was wedged into a pot of raspberry jam. He’d fought a bit, but after I found him rummaging through Clares dirty underwear it seemed like an idea.
“So HE is who I’ve been talking to on the internet?” She pointed one of my smoking smokes at Humph in a jar. “He’s the one who wanted me to send him my underwear for forensic examination?”
“Yep.”
“And HE is not actually a six foot tall, chisel jawed, tough as nails Private Eye?”
“Nope.”
“He is actually, part frog, part human, part degenerate pervert with a penchant for shagging fruit, vegetables, anything he can stop moving and ladies underwear?”
“That’s about it.”
“I’m taller if you think of me as standing far away Doll.” Humph said. Clare screwed the lid on the jar.
“So you two and a bit Private Eye’s work with the … Undead.”
“Actually.” Pete chipped in. “With the exception of Zombies, who ARE actually dead, everyone we know is alive. Oh. Apart from the ghosts. The term we tend to use is differently alive. It saves a lot of confusion. And having your throat ripped out by a pre-menstrual werewolf. Oh. No. Not making that little mistake again. Might I ask you a small question Miss Clare?”
“Yeah…. Feel free.” Clare said, her jaw hanging open. She was getting that look most do when confronted with Pete and Humphrey. And people wonder why I try to keep them locked up.
“Are you planning on having sexual relations with my business partner, perhaps doing The Trick with The Five Scarves and The Ice Cubes, which tends to leave the ladies screaming for a variety of God’s, and then after sating your sexual lusts, fall out with him and attacking him with a variety of lethal forms of retribution from axes and cork screws to cars, boats, planes and the occasional Monster from an Alternate dimension?” Pete asked.
Clare shook her head slowly.
“Well, just in case you two do end up intercoursing each other silly, might I ask if you have a jealous husband who will attempt to remove my business partners genitals, internal organs, genitals, limbs, genitals or head with a bladed or mechanical device such as a chainsaw, hedge trimmer or garden strimmer?”
Clare shook her head again. The end of the smoke fell onto the table cloth.
“Oh Goody.” Pete said. “I ask the question as a lot… no. Make that all. All of the women who Faustus intercourses attempt to kill him at some time or other. Sometimes they even attempt to use explosives. Ah, the happy times we have had cleaning the office after the regular fire bombing. So we are no stranger to arson. Indeed, my partner Mr Faustus there. The gentleman who is glowering at me. He has been known to have the odd asrsonic episode in his own right. I just thought that I should check. Primarily because someone has obviously been setting fire to this house and I’d hate to think it was a character flaw in such a pretty young lady as yourself.”
“He’s a gnome.” Clare said pointing at Humphrey. “He’s a fucking Nut Job.” She pointed at Pete. “So what the fuck are You? Sherlock Holmes?”
“Wrong genre Sweetheart.” I said, making with a fresh smoke. “I’m strictly a Fourties Noir kind of guy. If anything, I’m an anachronism.” I watched the smoke begin to burn. Interesting that. I hadn’t lit it.
“Still. It doesn’t change the fact that someone has been setting fires this morning Sweet Heart, but what’s all this about a hamster?”
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