The G-Rated Detective

#36 - Case of the The Vanishing Moth

Release Date: August 2007

I'd been out of sorts all morning. An elusive cricket had found its way into my apartment the previous evening and kept me up with its incessant chirping, chirping, chirping. I could almost still hear it as the steam from my teapot lulled me into a doze. When my phone rang, sounding much more shrill than usual, I jerked upright and nearly missed throwing it out the window. Fumbling, I slammed the receiver into the side of my head and mumbled my name.

The voice which greeted me wasn't the alluring purr you come to expect in a job like mine... far from it.

"Detective," the squeaky voice half told, half asked me. In reply, I poured myself a cup of tea. "I'm the head entomologist at the zoo. Hedda Malone," she said, "my friends call me Bugsy Malone." Her nasal laugh was a little too loud and a little too long. What sort of so-called friends include your last name in a nickname?

She went on, "We need your help. Two moths have been stolen from the Bug House." Missing moths, eh? That sounds like an easy way to start the week. They were probably just off fluttering around a light bulb somewhere. I grabbed a pencil and jotted down some particulars on the back of my heating bill s she spoke.

Tossing the receiver back onto the phone I scalded my mouth with the rest of my tea and grabbed my coat and hat.

Little did I know what a complicated web of lies I had stumbled into.

I strolled through the zoo, passing the monkey house, avoiding collisions with wayward toddlers, looking for the Bug House... Hedda was exactly as her voice advertised – – small, awkward, a little too uptight, and with an overbite that'd make Dracula envious.

The crime scene was clean, antiseptic even. There were some light scratches around the lock of the front door and holes cut into two of moth displays.

According to the signs affixed to the empty cases, neither the rare Lunar Halo Moth nor the common Polyphemus Moth were capable of cutting holes in plexiglass, although the caterpillar of the Polyphemus does eat 86,000 times its weight in two months.

Hedda said a great number of things while I wandered the scene, all delivered in a rapid-fire nervous stream of consciousness. I got tired just listening to her. The one important thing she said is that she'd had run ins with some guy named Melvin in the past. Melvin was the head of the Local Association of Lepidoptera Amateurs, or LALA and evidently he thought he knew more about moths than a general entomologist. It sounded like I'd need to pay this Melvin a visit.

I dropped in on the next LALA meeting, which was held in the living room of Melvin's parents. His mom got me a cup of tea. Nice lady. Melvin, on the other hand was a complete disappointment. The guy couldn't have planned his way out of a wet paper bag if you'd given him control of an army of lumberjacks. He seemed far more interesting in talking about Odysseus and some Cyclops or the other than the missing moths.

One of the others though, a kid by the name of Jasper, visibly flinched every time I mentioned Hedda's name. I didn't let on I noticed and when the meeting broke up, I surreptitiously followed him out into the rain.

Jasper dashed down a few blocks and ducked into a diner.

I stood in the rain and watched him through the window for a couple of hours, wishing I was back in Melvin's kitchen, drinking tea and being charming at his mom. Jasper took his time with a grilled cheese and scribbled frantically in a notebook the whole time. Finally, after giving me enough time to get well and thoroughly soaked, Jasper paid his bill and splashed his way home. Naturally, I followed.

It was simple to convince Jasper that he should let me into his apartment, even simpler to convince him to sit down and let me look around. Jasper didn't have a spine and as I gave his apartment a once over, I could read his face like an eastern European novel. Only, Jasper wasn't as good at hiding his meaning. I scooped up the damp notebook and Jasper turned pale. "What's this, Jas," I asked, "planning on branching out into stealing Phasmatodea?" Branching out. Phasmatodea.

I crack myself up.

Flipping open the notebook, I was stunned to discover that it contained romantic poetry. Terrible romantic poetry and written for none other than Bugsy Malone. The last poem was the best of the lot. This should give you an idea how hard my job can be, "I am drawn to you like a moth to flame, but the distance between us causes more pain. If I could but box my love for you Hedda, and hide it safely away beneath my bed, ah!"

'Oh, Jasper, you can't be that stupid can you," I asked, half-knowing the answer already. Jasper watched me nervously, perched in his overstuffed chair, as I walked into the bedroom and took a peek under the bed. Amidst the dust bunnies and stray socks there was a conspicuous shoe box, looking brand knew and out of place. I brought it into the main room and opened it. Jasper tried to look surprised when the lone Polyphemus moth inside unfolded its wings, the eerie purple eyes which decorated them staring up at us.

"C'mon, Jasper," I said after a pause, "I know how it is. You got a crush on a girl and think she'll never notice you. A fellow gets desperate, right?"

Jasper swallowed a couple of times before he found his voice, "Yeah You... you got me... detective."

"Good, Jasper, good." I said, "Now let's talk about where you've stashed the Lunar Halo moth."

Jasper swore he didn't have the Lunar Halo moth and after I applied a little pressure and heard the story a few more times, I believed him. I rang up Hedda to let her know I'd be dropping by the zoo with the Polyphemus moth, but there was no answer. Hopefully she'd be in when I got there. I didn't know anything about babysitting moths.

The lights were out when I got to the Bug House and through the window I could make out someone moving inside. They were faintly illuminated by a strange light, like a small rain of gentle embers. I set down the shoe box and slipped inside, intent on surprising the intruder. I ducked and moved quickly towards the glow. I heard a noise behind me and turned, too late to avoid having something large and heavy brought down upon my head.

"Ow," I bellowed and grabbed my attacker by the wrist. By the frail and trembling wrist. I twisted it and brought its owners face close to mine. My annoyed frown glinted back at me, reflected in Hedda's glasses.

"Detective," she gasped, "you're hurting my wrist."

I quickly let go. Doesn't pay to hurt the clients, even when they've just assaulted you with the yellow pages.

Turns out that the moth Jasper didn't steal had found its way back into its display case all on its own and Hedda had been appreciating the very qualities that made it so rare when I arrived. I nursed my head and a cup of cheap bagged tea while I caught Hedda up to date about Jasper and his feelings. The moths fluttered about their cases, the Lunar Halo Moth glowing faintly, even in the light.

Hedda was so pleased to have both moths back that she didn't want to press charges. She even seemed a little pleased about Jasper's amorous motivations. Guess I was right about the quality of her current friends if Jasper was an attractive option.

I was on my way back from converting Hedda's check into a more useful currency when I passed by the diner where I'd spent a rainy afternoon watching Jasper write love poems. Who should I see through the window, but Jasper and Hedda sharing a meal.

Jasper looked so happy and you couldn't imagine that a face like that would be capable of guile and deceit. Hedda, for her part looked pleased. Pleased with the world, pleased with dinner, pleased with Jasper and pleased with herself. A little too pleased, in fact.

I'd wax poetic myself about the true rewards of solving crime, but who would I be kidding? Young love doesn't pay the rent or buy the premium teas I'd become accustomed to. Speaking of which, the longer I stayed here gawking at them, the longer I was away from my phone. The longer I was away from my phone, the greater the chance of missing a call.

I couldn't afford that, so I silently bid the two love bugs farewell and made my way back to the office. Now if I could just find a tea which would rid me of this uneasy feeling I've got that I missed something in this case ... and that I hadn't seen the last of the Case of the Vanishing Moth.