Detective (noir) (Team Schmoop)
Title: The Case of the Missing Mutt
Author: jlm110108
Pairing/Characters: Don Eppes, Robin Brooks
Rating/Category: Gen
Summary: Private Eye Don Eppes takes on a new case
Notes/Warnings: This is AU. It takes place in LA some time in the heydey of the noir detectives like Sam Spade.
Morning came too early. Again. I woke with a start and realized I had fallen asleep at my desk for the third night in a row. The first blurry image I saw was the empty whiskey bottle. Damn. I forced myself to sit up and glanced at my watch. Next to the bottle was an exposed roll of film in its can. At least I managed to finish the Williams case. Maybe I’d be able to pay this month’s rent on time.
I heard a key rattling in the doorknob and looked up to see the familiar silhouette of my secretary through the frosted glass. “Good morning, Sunshine!” Robin Brooks said as she entered the office, a coffee cup in one hand and the mail under her arm. “I saw your car out front and figured you could use this,” she said as she put the cup and the mail on my desk. “Don’t break the cup. Molly made me give her a deposit.”
“Thanks. You’re a gem,” I said, lifting the cup to my lips. The one redeeming quality of this dump of an office was that it was next door to Molly’s Diner.
Robin nodded at the empty bottle and the overflowing ashtray. “Rough night?”
I shrugged. “No more than any other night.”
She crossed the office and opened the window. “Let’s get some fresh air in here. You know, if you’re going to sleep here, maybe you should at least buy a cot.”
“I have enough trouble paying the rent and your salary. Speaking of which,” I picked up the roll of film. “Would you take this to Petey for me and see if he’d print it for me ASAP. Tell him that when I turn these photos over to the client, I’ll pay my tab.”
Robin picked up the roll of film as if it were made of gold. “Sure thing, Boss. Is this the Williams case?”
“Yep.”
“Thank goodness. Maybe she’ll finally stop calling every day. Was the hubby really making whoopee with that Sheba from Rourke’s speakeasy?”
“Yep,” I sighed. “I hate divorce cases, but they pay the bills.”
“I know. Maybe soon you’ll get a good case…”
She was interrupted by a knock at the door. We both looked up. From the silhouette, I guessed we were about to be visited by a midget. Robin opened the door to reveal a redheaded kid who looked like he walked right out of one of those Norman Rockwell pictures on the Saturday Evening Post.
“Yes, can I help you?” Robin asked.
“Yes, ma’am. I need to talk to Mr. Don Eppes, the private eye,” the kid was polite if nothing else.
“Well come on in. Today’s your lucky day. The private eye is not only here, he just wrapped up his last case.” She stepped aside to let the kid in, and caught my attention, pointing at the empty booze bottle.
I took my hanky from my pocket and lifted the bottle. Looking at the kid, I said, “Evidence.”
The kid’s eyes widened and he whistled. “Wow, mister. Was it a murder case? Or… or… kidnapping?”
“Sorry, Kid. Client privilege. I can’t discuss the details,” I said as I opened the drawer and carefully laid the bottle next to its unopened cousin. “Now, pull up a chair and take a load off. What can I do for you?”
“Well, mister,” the kid said, “I don’t know where to begin…”
“How about begin with your name?”
“I’m Jimmy Doyle,” he stood and offered his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Eppes.”
I shook his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Doyle. Now, why do you need a detective?”
“My dog’s gone,” his lip quivered a little, but he took a deep breath and continued. “An’ I think he was stolen.”
“Was it a valuable dog? Some kind of purebred or something?”
“He was valuable to me. My daddy gave him to me before he went away to fight the Nazis. He didn’t cost much. Daddy found him at the dog pound.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out his wallet. “I got a picture Daddy took of me an’ Spot.” He handed me a snapshot of himself sitting with his arms around a little black and white mutt.
I smiled and handed the picture back. “Cute dog. What’s his name?”
“Spot.”
“So why do you think someone stole him?”
Jimmy looked down at his hands. “I dunno. Spot wouldn’t just run away. He was my buddy. He was always with me until yesterday.”
“You got any suspects?”
Jimmy shrugged. “Spike Madison was jealous. His kid brother is ‘lergic to dogs, so his parents wouldn’t let him have one.”
With instincts that came from dealing with the sordid underbelly of the city of angels, the first thought that came to me was that Spike had killed the kid’s dog.
Something must have showed on my face, because the kid said, “He wouldn’t hurt Spot. He likes him. I think he’s hiding him somewhere.”
I nodded slowly. There were a lot of abandoned buildings around this part of the city. Lots of places for kids to make clubhouses and hide things their parents didn’t want them to have. “Well, you’re in luck, Kid. I just finished a big case, and I have time to have a look around.”
Jimmy reached into his pocket and pulled out a few bills and a handful of change. “I can pay you.”
I was tempted to tell him my normal fee - twenty five dollars a day plus expenses, but I caught Robin’s warning look and said, “Don’t worry about it. I’m a dog lover, and I can’t bring myself to charge someone who lost a pet.”
Jimmy scowled. “My Daddy told me to never take charity from nobody. What’s your fee?”
“Twenty five dollars a day.”
He put the money in front of me. “There’s five dollars and twenty six cents there. Go ahead and count it. Do you work eight or ten hours a day?”
“I usually work twelve.”
“How about lunch?”
“I work while I’m eating.”
“Okay. That’s two dollars and eight and a third cents an hour. That means I can pay you for two point five two hours, more or less.”
I grinned and shook my head. “You remind me of my kid brother. Charlie’s a math whiz kid like you.”
“Charlie? Charles Eppes?” The kid’s eyes widened like I’d told him I knew Ted Williams. “Golly!”
“You heard of him?” I was stunned.
“Who hasn’t? Listen, I’ll pay you the five twenty six for an hour instead of two if you introduce me to him.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll toss in the introduction for free.” Before he could object, I held up a hand to stop him. “It’s not charity. Charlie’s a teacher. He’ll get a kick out of meeting you.”
“Okay. Deal! So what do we do now?”
“’We’ don’t do anything. I’ll ask you a few questions, then you’ll go home and let me do my job.”
“I don’t know… How will I know you’re doing your job?”
“You’ll know when I bring your dog to you. Until then, you’ve got to trust me.”
He studied me for a long moment, then nodded. “Daddy says to trust your gut. My gut tells me you’re a good guy. Okay. We’ll do it your way.”
The three of us spent the next half hour - off the clock, I assured Jimmy - getting the pertinent information. After I had Jimmy’s address and a list of his friends and the places they all hung out together, I said, “Okay, buddy. You go on home, and I’ll start to work.”
“Can’t I come with you? I can help! Spot will come to me.”
Robin smiled broadly. “Come on, Boss.” She ruffled his red hair. “How can you say no to this face?”
“I usually charge extra if the client wants to get involved,” I snarled.
Jimmy fished in his pocket and pulled out a jackknife. He put it on the desk and pushed it over to me. “I’ll give you this if you let me come along.”
I had to admit that the kid was good. I picked up the knife and handed it back to him. “Nah. I’ll waive the fee this time. You’re right. Spot’s more likely to come to you than he is to me.”
I stood, straightening my rumpled suit, checked my breast pocket for my pack of Camels, and picked up my fedora from the coat rack. I checked my watch. “Okay, I’m on the clock now. Let’s get going.”
Our first stop was only two blocks from my office. It was the empty lot Jimmy and his friends had turned into a makeshift baseball field. It brought back memories. Charlie and I used to play on the corner lot at the end of our block. The old guy who lived there didn’t give us grief as long as we didn’t do too much damage to the lawn. Our bases were old sweatshirts. Home plate was a hunk of cardboard we had carefully cut to the right shape. Jimmy’s baseball field wasn’t as fancy as ours had been, but it was still occupied by a half dozen kids taking turns batting.
One of the kids looked up as we approached. “Hey! Jimmy! Come on! We get a couple more we can have a game.”
“Sorry,” Jimmy said. “I’m paying this guy by the hour to find Spot.”
“He could be our umpire,” the kid suggested.
I was watching the gang at the mention of Spot. Most of the kids looked like they were more interested in baseball. But two kids looked decidedly uncomfortable.
“How about this,” I suggested. “You guys help me find Spot and I’ll umpire your game for you.”
A couple of kids glanced at the two uncomfortable kids. I knew I was on the brink of solving this. I motioned for the kids to come over. When they surrounded me, I said, “Listen. Jimmy here really loves his dog. If you have any idea where he could be, please help me out.”
The only reply was a few averted glances and uncomfortable shuffling of feet. One kid finally looked up and met my gaze. “What makes you think we know where his stupid dog is?”
“When Jimmy mentioned Spot, you and your buddy there,” I pointed to the kid next to him, “got a real guilty look on your faces. Are you Spike?”
“Yeah. How’d you know?”
“Lucky guess. Listen, Spike. Did you know that Jimmy’s dad gave him that dog before he left to go fight overseas?”
“Yeah. Jimmy won’t shut up about it.” He glared at Jimmy. “Just like he won’t shut up about how he’s got a dog and I don’t. My little brother’s allergic. I can’t have a dog. And Jimmy would never stop teasing me.”
I glanced down at my client. “Is that true?”
It was Jimmy’s turn to look guilty. “Yeah. I guess,” he muttered.
“Is that the way your dad taught you to behave?”
“No,” Jimmy’s voice was barely audible.
“Well,” I prompted. “What do you think you should do?”
Jimmy took a deep breath and looked up at Spike, gnawing his lip. “I’m sorry, Spike. That was mean of me. When we find Spot, I’m gonna let you play with him. I haven’t taught him to sit yet. Maybe you could help me train him.”
Spike narrowed his eyes and pondered. Finally, he nodded. “Yeah. Okay.” After another long moment, he said, “I think I saw him in the old Wilson building.”
With a yelp of a cheer, Jimmy led the group at a run. Arriving at the abandoned warehouse, he pulled the creaking door open. “Spot?! Spot!!!!”
The little mutt came running, barking and wagging his whole body. Jimmy dropped to his knees and hugged the wiggly dog. Spike stood silently behind them.
I tapped Spike on the shoulder. “Thanks,” I whispered. “You did good, kid.”
Later that day, after the baseball game, I told Jimmy that he didn’t owe me anything. I didn’t work long enough to earn the wages.
“Not even counting the baseball game?” he asked as we walked to his apartment.
“Nah. That was fun. Listen. You ask your mom if I can take you to meet my brother.” I checked my watch. “If we work it right, we’ll get there just about supper time. My dad lives with Charlie, and he’s a great cook.”
Please rate this fic here
Author: jlm110108
Pairing/Characters: Don Eppes, Robin Brooks
Rating/Category: Gen
Summary: Private Eye Don Eppes takes on a new case
Notes/Warnings: This is AU. It takes place in LA some time in the heydey of the noir detectives like Sam Spade.
Morning came too early. Again. I woke with a start and realized I had fallen asleep at my desk for the third night in a row. The first blurry image I saw was the empty whiskey bottle. Damn. I forced myself to sit up and glanced at my watch. Next to the bottle was an exposed roll of film in its can. At least I managed to finish the Williams case. Maybe I’d be able to pay this month’s rent on time.
I heard a key rattling in the doorknob and looked up to see the familiar silhouette of my secretary through the frosted glass. “Good morning, Sunshine!” Robin Brooks said as she entered the office, a coffee cup in one hand and the mail under her arm. “I saw your car out front and figured you could use this,” she said as she put the cup and the mail on my desk. “Don’t break the cup. Molly made me give her a deposit.”
“Thanks. You’re a gem,” I said, lifting the cup to my lips. The one redeeming quality of this dump of an office was that it was next door to Molly’s Diner.
Robin nodded at the empty bottle and the overflowing ashtray. “Rough night?”
I shrugged. “No more than any other night.”
She crossed the office and opened the window. “Let’s get some fresh air in here. You know, if you’re going to sleep here, maybe you should at least buy a cot.”
“I have enough trouble paying the rent and your salary. Speaking of which,” I picked up the roll of film. “Would you take this to Petey for me and see if he’d print it for me ASAP. Tell him that when I turn these photos over to the client, I’ll pay my tab.”
Robin picked up the roll of film as if it were made of gold. “Sure thing, Boss. Is this the Williams case?”
“Yep.”
“Thank goodness. Maybe she’ll finally stop calling every day. Was the hubby really making whoopee with that Sheba from Rourke’s speakeasy?”
“Yep,” I sighed. “I hate divorce cases, but they pay the bills.”
“I know. Maybe soon you’ll get a good case…”
She was interrupted by a knock at the door. We both looked up. From the silhouette, I guessed we were about to be visited by a midget. Robin opened the door to reveal a redheaded kid who looked like he walked right out of one of those Norman Rockwell pictures on the Saturday Evening Post.
“Yes, can I help you?” Robin asked.
“Yes, ma’am. I need to talk to Mr. Don Eppes, the private eye,” the kid was polite if nothing else.
“Well come on in. Today’s your lucky day. The private eye is not only here, he just wrapped up his last case.” She stepped aside to let the kid in, and caught my attention, pointing at the empty booze bottle.
I took my hanky from my pocket and lifted the bottle. Looking at the kid, I said, “Evidence.”
The kid’s eyes widened and he whistled. “Wow, mister. Was it a murder case? Or… or… kidnapping?”
“Sorry, Kid. Client privilege. I can’t discuss the details,” I said as I opened the drawer and carefully laid the bottle next to its unopened cousin. “Now, pull up a chair and take a load off. What can I do for you?”
“Well, mister,” the kid said, “I don’t know where to begin…”
“How about begin with your name?”
“I’m Jimmy Doyle,” he stood and offered his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Eppes.”
I shook his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Doyle. Now, why do you need a detective?”
“My dog’s gone,” his lip quivered a little, but he took a deep breath and continued. “An’ I think he was stolen.”
“Was it a valuable dog? Some kind of purebred or something?”
“He was valuable to me. My daddy gave him to me before he went away to fight the Nazis. He didn’t cost much. Daddy found him at the dog pound.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out his wallet. “I got a picture Daddy took of me an’ Spot.” He handed me a snapshot of himself sitting with his arms around a little black and white mutt.
I smiled and handed the picture back. “Cute dog. What’s his name?”
“Spot.”
“So why do you think someone stole him?”
Jimmy looked down at his hands. “I dunno. Spot wouldn’t just run away. He was my buddy. He was always with me until yesterday.”
“You got any suspects?”
Jimmy shrugged. “Spike Madison was jealous. His kid brother is ‘lergic to dogs, so his parents wouldn’t let him have one.”
With instincts that came from dealing with the sordid underbelly of the city of angels, the first thought that came to me was that Spike had killed the kid’s dog.
Something must have showed on my face, because the kid said, “He wouldn’t hurt Spot. He likes him. I think he’s hiding him somewhere.”
I nodded slowly. There were a lot of abandoned buildings around this part of the city. Lots of places for kids to make clubhouses and hide things their parents didn’t want them to have. “Well, you’re in luck, Kid. I just finished a big case, and I have time to have a look around.”
Jimmy reached into his pocket and pulled out a few bills and a handful of change. “I can pay you.”
I was tempted to tell him my normal fee - twenty five dollars a day plus expenses, but I caught Robin’s warning look and said, “Don’t worry about it. I’m a dog lover, and I can’t bring myself to charge someone who lost a pet.”
Jimmy scowled. “My Daddy told me to never take charity from nobody. What’s your fee?”
“Twenty five dollars a day.”
He put the money in front of me. “There’s five dollars and twenty six cents there. Go ahead and count it. Do you work eight or ten hours a day?”
“I usually work twelve.”
“How about lunch?”
“I work while I’m eating.”
“Okay. That’s two dollars and eight and a third cents an hour. That means I can pay you for two point five two hours, more or less.”
I grinned and shook my head. “You remind me of my kid brother. Charlie’s a math whiz kid like you.”
“Charlie? Charles Eppes?” The kid’s eyes widened like I’d told him I knew Ted Williams. “Golly!”
“You heard of him?” I was stunned.
“Who hasn’t? Listen, I’ll pay you the five twenty six for an hour instead of two if you introduce me to him.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll toss in the introduction for free.” Before he could object, I held up a hand to stop him. “It’s not charity. Charlie’s a teacher. He’ll get a kick out of meeting you.”
“Okay. Deal! So what do we do now?”
“’We’ don’t do anything. I’ll ask you a few questions, then you’ll go home and let me do my job.”
“I don’t know… How will I know you’re doing your job?”
“You’ll know when I bring your dog to you. Until then, you’ve got to trust me.”
He studied me for a long moment, then nodded. “Daddy says to trust your gut. My gut tells me you’re a good guy. Okay. We’ll do it your way.”
The three of us spent the next half hour - off the clock, I assured Jimmy - getting the pertinent information. After I had Jimmy’s address and a list of his friends and the places they all hung out together, I said, “Okay, buddy. You go on home, and I’ll start to work.”
“Can’t I come with you? I can help! Spot will come to me.”
Robin smiled broadly. “Come on, Boss.” She ruffled his red hair. “How can you say no to this face?”
“I usually charge extra if the client wants to get involved,” I snarled.
Jimmy fished in his pocket and pulled out a jackknife. He put it on the desk and pushed it over to me. “I’ll give you this if you let me come along.”
I had to admit that the kid was good. I picked up the knife and handed it back to him. “Nah. I’ll waive the fee this time. You’re right. Spot’s more likely to come to you than he is to me.”
I stood, straightening my rumpled suit, checked my breast pocket for my pack of Camels, and picked up my fedora from the coat rack. I checked my watch. “Okay, I’m on the clock now. Let’s get going.”
Our first stop was only two blocks from my office. It was the empty lot Jimmy and his friends had turned into a makeshift baseball field. It brought back memories. Charlie and I used to play on the corner lot at the end of our block. The old guy who lived there didn’t give us grief as long as we didn’t do too much damage to the lawn. Our bases were old sweatshirts. Home plate was a hunk of cardboard we had carefully cut to the right shape. Jimmy’s baseball field wasn’t as fancy as ours had been, but it was still occupied by a half dozen kids taking turns batting.
One of the kids looked up as we approached. “Hey! Jimmy! Come on! We get a couple more we can have a game.”
“Sorry,” Jimmy said. “I’m paying this guy by the hour to find Spot.”
“He could be our umpire,” the kid suggested.
I was watching the gang at the mention of Spot. Most of the kids looked like they were more interested in baseball. But two kids looked decidedly uncomfortable.
“How about this,” I suggested. “You guys help me find Spot and I’ll umpire your game for you.”
A couple of kids glanced at the two uncomfortable kids. I knew I was on the brink of solving this. I motioned for the kids to come over. When they surrounded me, I said, “Listen. Jimmy here really loves his dog. If you have any idea where he could be, please help me out.”
The only reply was a few averted glances and uncomfortable shuffling of feet. One kid finally looked up and met my gaze. “What makes you think we know where his stupid dog is?”
“When Jimmy mentioned Spot, you and your buddy there,” I pointed to the kid next to him, “got a real guilty look on your faces. Are you Spike?”
“Yeah. How’d you know?”
“Lucky guess. Listen, Spike. Did you know that Jimmy’s dad gave him that dog before he left to go fight overseas?”
“Yeah. Jimmy won’t shut up about it.” He glared at Jimmy. “Just like he won’t shut up about how he’s got a dog and I don’t. My little brother’s allergic. I can’t have a dog. And Jimmy would never stop teasing me.”
I glanced down at my client. “Is that true?”
It was Jimmy’s turn to look guilty. “Yeah. I guess,” he muttered.
“Is that the way your dad taught you to behave?”
“No,” Jimmy’s voice was barely audible.
“Well,” I prompted. “What do you think you should do?”
Jimmy took a deep breath and looked up at Spike, gnawing his lip. “I’m sorry, Spike. That was mean of me. When we find Spot, I’m gonna let you play with him. I haven’t taught him to sit yet. Maybe you could help me train him.”
Spike narrowed his eyes and pondered. Finally, he nodded. “Yeah. Okay.” After another long moment, he said, “I think I saw him in the old Wilson building.”
With a yelp of a cheer, Jimmy led the group at a run. Arriving at the abandoned warehouse, he pulled the creaking door open. “Spot?! Spot!!!!”
The little mutt came running, barking and wagging his whole body. Jimmy dropped to his knees and hugged the wiggly dog. Spike stood silently behind them.
I tapped Spike on the shoulder. “Thanks,” I whispered. “You did good, kid.”
Later that day, after the baseball game, I told Jimmy that he didn’t owe me anything. I didn’t work long enough to earn the wages.
“Not even counting the baseball game?” he asked as we walked to his apartment.
“Nah. That was fun. Listen. You ask your mom if I can take you to meet my brother.” I checked my watch. “If we work it right, we’ll get there just about supper time. My dad lives with Charlie, and he’s a great cook.”
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