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It's Not Long Now! - Day 27


How Did You Find Out?

I spread out the paper on the table as I downed my sausages and eggs. I checked the crime stories every day. After all my case wasn't the only game out there. Across the front page was splashed a story about Mr. Moore Arty who'd been shot in the head at his breakfast table. He'd been found by his landlady face down in a bowl of Cheerios. Damn, I thought, this is the work of a cereal killer.

I got to the precinct early, before most of the day shift had arrived. It was 20 minutes before Silver was expected to show which was just fine. I wanted to be there before he was. I had something to do before he arrived.

The red second hand swept around the dial face of the clock on the squad room wall. It just didn't seem to be moving quickly enough. The air was stale, although not quite as stale as the three Gitanes cigarettes I had smoked in the last five minutes.

"Gouda" said Silver, startled."What are you doing in my office?"

"Sit down, Captain, we need to have a little talk."

"What's all this about, Jack?

"I know all about it, John. The drugs, the illegals, your penchant for dressing up in women's clothing - well on that I'm just guessing - and your criminal compadres and the murders."

"You don't know Jack, Jack"

"That's redundant Captain. I know it all."

"How did you find out?" queried Silver adjusting his bra.

"I think we'll save that for your trial, John, if you don't mind. But I have a question of my own."

"What's that?"

"Why? I've known and worked with you for two decades, Captain, and I never knew."

"Well, Jack, you're a gouda cop to have found me out."

"Cut out the cute quips, John, and answer my question."

"Well I'd gotten used to the additional income from my family's restaurants."

"Your family's restaurants?"

"Yeah we ran a chain of fish and chip places."

"No, don't tell me…"

"Yep, Long John Silver's. But they went under and I couldn't live on just my piddling cop salary so when the Amigo boys came to me with a scheme I jumped at the bait."

"The guy who ran fish and chip shops jumped at the bait?"

"That's right, Jack, and I'm not about to give the additional income up either. I can't afford living on scale."

"Another fish joke, eh, John? Just for the halibut?"

With lightening speed he opened the middle drawer of his desk and pulled out his service revolver, aiming it directly at my thumping chest.

I guess he didn't like people deriding him for his sense of humour.

One more day to go. Before we get there shoot on over to We Work for Cheese where you can read everyone else's stories.


Comments

Cheryl said…
For the sake of my sole, I hope this isn't a red herring.
nonamedufus said…
This tail is on the level, Cheryl.
ReformingGeek said…
G-R-O-A-N ! ! !

I can't stands no moray.
nonamedufus said…
These comments are getting reel interesting.
frankleemeidere said…
I'm just glad it wasn't Dylan. I was really afraid it was going to be Dylan and I'm always disappointed when the hot girl is at fault.
nonamedufus said…
That would have been one way to go. Although it didn't cross my mind when I was writing it. I had other things in mind for her.
Linda Medrano said…
See, a crooked cop is the worst. But I want to know, did you just confront him on your own and without backup? You shoulda had more sense being a damned good dick and all (or should we say a damned gouda dick!)
nonamedufus said…
Oh, I'm pretty safe as you'll learn tomorrow.
Linda R. said…
I'm sure Jack has a gouda backup plan. I love this cast of characters, and am waiting with baited breath for the conclusion.
nonamedufus said…
Well, then, I guess I've caught you hook, line, and sinker.
Cheryl P. said…
Evidently Silver doesn't understand your sense of humor. Gouda better cut bait and run.
I MISS LONG JOHN SILVERS!!!!
nonamedufus said…
It was nice of them to go out of business to support my narrative.
meleahrebeccah said…
And now I'm craving fish!
nonamedufus said…
Geez, I have no idea why.
I joined this whole blog challenge just for the halibut.

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