Mrs. White-and-Black was finishing her coffee. “Mrs. White-not-Black,” she said to me because I hadn’t said her name correctly.
“This is Mrs. White-er-not-Black…”
“No er,” reprimanded Mrs. White-not-Black who was starting to get on everyone’s nerves because of her punctiliousness.
“This is Mrs. White-not-Black,” continued Arthur, “her husband went missing and we found out from the Author that he has been murdered. The last person he went to see was Honest Jim the gangster.”
“You didn’t jump to conclusions did you?” asked Sid.
“I am sure I do not know what you are talking about.”
Mrs. White-not-Black stood up, “I would like to go now. Here is my card for when you wish to contact me,” she handed Arthur her card.
“Thank you,” said Arthur as he took the card, stood up and opened the door for her.
“Goodbye,” she smiled painfully as she left.
“Goodbye,” replied Arthur, Sid and Fawh.
Honest Jim’s hideout was in the New Bronx district of the city. He was a medium sized gangster in stature as well as in influence. Arthur and Sid (and Fawh but they didn’t know) turned up in their classic Chevrolet outside Honest Jim’s mansion.
Arthur pressed the communications buzzer, seeing as he was driving. “Could I speak to honest Jim please?”
“Who shall I say is calling?” said a voice at the other end.
“Arthur Pendragon.”
“Sheesh, you sound like some kinda British lord or something.”
“Quite.”
Sid looked up at Arthur. “Can’t ya get this old jalopy converted so’s I can drive it?” I can’t reach the pedals or see over the dashboard.”
“I doubt we will be in this dimension for very long.”
The voice crackled at the other end, “Ya can come in Lord Pendragon.” The electric gates opened.
YOU ARE READING
The Detective One
Science FictionThe Fifth book in the Arth Series. Arthur and the rest are cooped up in the cowboy/detective dimension. Mr. White-not-Black has been murdered and they must find the culprit. Yes it is supposed to be funny.
