I woke up quickly with a clang.
Clang?
"Hey I'm in here!" I yelled out.
I was sleeping in my favorite trash can.
It was a giant green dumpster raft that floated behind our Police Headquarters.
My name is Nick Murphy and I'm a detective on the Canal Squad.
So begins The Case of the Bearded Dragon Slayer.
My unit Captain was nicknamed The Lobster.
Most people assumed that it was because he was a giant Lobster, but I couldn't say for sure.
He basically had one rule.
If you get trashed, you sleep in the trash.
He knew I'd often stay up doing paperwork and drinking whiskey. I must have fallen asleep at my desk again because I woke up in that fetid green dumpster. No surprise.
I'd even tossed an old beat up mattress in that thing, so it really wasn't so bad aside from the smell......and the trash of course.
Last night's work wasn't all a waste though.
Going over some cold case files I was sure I had a hot lead on something that was supposed to be frozen solid.
A quick jump in the water meant I was as good as new. I hopped in my office and changed into the extra suit I kept on the hat stand.
"Nick. You smell terrible"
Justin greeted me in the usual fashion. He was proving to be a good partner even though he was a bad partner.
This is Justin showing off
"Justin, do you remember when I used to bring my orange bearded dragon Jimmy to work with me everyday?" I cocked my head.
"How can I forget. We came in that Friday morning and someone had stabbed him through the back with a letter opener. Terrible tragedy. We never caught the guy" he put his hand on my lower back.
"I think I finally may have found a lead. If only I can remember what happened last night." I scratched my head.
Sometimes you the need the hair of the dog that bit you. So I called up the dog I was with last night.
"Hey Shirley, you still got any of that whiskey?"
She told me there was half a bottle left and she would bring it right over to the station.
It only took me that bottle and two more to remember the note. It was in my shirt pocket.......now soaking wet and hanging over the hat rack.
I pulled it out and laid it on the table.
"Put that thing up Nick!" Justin yelled.
What can I say. I was pretty drunk.
After that I pulled the note out and laid IT on the table.
Beware the cat with letter opener claws
Beware the cat with letter opener claws?
Didn't I remember seeing a small black cat leaving the office the morning of Jimmy's death?
I'd seen that same cat last night.
At the bar on Maple and Thornsberry.
"Let's go Justin! We've got a bar to get to!"
We each had 3 shots of whiskey at the bar before remembering that we needed to go to a different bar that was on Maple and Thornsberry.
Upon arriving I quickly went up to the bartender.
"What'll it be, Bud?" she asked
The bartender was a rather large feline. She appeared to be a tiger of some sort.
"I'm looking for a cat, sweetheart."
"You're in luck then. You found one." she batted her pretty eyelashes at me.
What a dame.
"No sweetheart. I'm talking about a simple house cat. Nobody as exotic or sexy as you are." It didn't hurt to butter the bread once in awhile. Especially when her buns were nice as this young ladies were.
"Well..... there is Plain Jane Ferguson. Real buzz kill that one. Tries to kill anything that buzzes."
Anything that buzzes huh...... and I had just bought Jimmy that kazoo for his birthday.
"Quick where can I find her?" I slammed my hand on the counter.
"Relax, baby, she's in the stockroom sweeping up like she always does."
Within minutes I was running out towards the back of the joint. I was pretty sure I knew where the stockroom was. In my haste I tripped over a metal pole and landed hard on my face.
Well now I was buzzing really hard.
I wasn't sure where Justin was but I couldn't wait for backup.
I slammed open the stockroom door and there she was, dressed to the gills.
"That's strange" I thought to myself
"Since when do cats have gills?"
In one hand she had a knife, in the other...... a small parakeet.
Please save me!
I went to pull out my gun but I must have dropped it earlier when I tripped on the floor.
Screw it. I made a mad dash for her with the intention of knocking her on her ass.
She was quicker than I was.
Before I realized what was going on, a parakeet was flying past my face and a knife was striking my upper left arm.
I was cut pretty bad.
I dropped down to my knees and she jumped right on top of me.
"Justin! You're a lousy partner!" I screamed out.
"Where the hell are you?"
This was it. I was a goner for sure. One small paw clenched my throat closed while a knife quickly headed towards my neckline.
Suddenly there was a roar and an orange flash.
For saving my life
It was the bartender.
"Looks like I was finally able to be of some service after all." she purred.
Finally Justin strolled in and cuffed the furtive feline housecat.
Before long that femme fatale would be living in a floating jail cell.
Hopefully Jimmy will be able to rest in peace now.
Chalk up another Victory for the Canal Squad.
Ladies and gentlemen always remember to tip your bartender.