Chapter
1
It was one of those perfect sunny Saturday mornings. My mom made a great breakfast and the whole day and many adventures were ahead of us. I turned to Paul once my mom was out of sight. “So, I think we need to find a client to get our detective business started. What do you think about setting something up on the computer so people can find out about us and hire us?”
Paul sat on the table motionless. I reached over and wrapped my hand around him and tilt him back and forth and said in a small voice, “Great idea Nicolas!”
“Aw thanks Paul!”
In a little voice I added, “I think a website sounds like a great idea. You will have to do the typing though…”
I laughed at Paul, “Because you don’t have any hands right?”
Nicolas tilts the potato forward a little as if it was embarrassed. “Yeah.”
I took the last tortilla, used it to scoop up the last bit of scrambled eggs and salsa and stuffed it in my mouth. Mmmmm. Hot breakfast is always the best. I grabbed my plate and headed to the kitchen to drop it off in the sink.
Paul spoke for the first time in his life, “Are you seriously leaving me here?”
I froze and slowly turned to look at the potato. It. I mean HE had never talked before. I always heard him in my head, but this time he was talking out loud.
Paul raised an eyebrow, “Yeah. I talk. And let me tell you I have a lot I need to get off my chest.”
I glanced at his chest and opened my mouth to correct his comment but thought better of it. Let the talking potato.. talk?
“Were you really planning to write a book where I don’t talk? That the potato just sits in your pocket and looks wistfully off in the distance? For the ENTIRE book? If you did that I’d just ask you to peel, boil and stuff me in your squishy wet mouth hole.”
I opened my mouth again to correct him and then realized he was 100 percent right. No matter how ridiculous the idea was that a potato could talk. If I just wiggle him back and forth and mutter under my breath what I think he should say it would make for a terrible first story.. and worse yet awful first case for what will one day be an amazing detective agency.
“Agreed. You get to talk in the first book.”
Paul relaxed a little relieved, “Thank you spudner.”
“Anything else?”
“Whiskey.”
“Yeah. No. Sorry Paul. This is a kids book. And it’s only 7 AM! What kind of example are you setting for the readers?”
Paul shook his head, “I’ve read enough detective novels…”
“We don’t own a single one.”
“…and watched enough scratchy old black and white gumshoe movies late at night.”
“You Haven’t.”
“.. to know the detective always has a bottle in his desk drawer when he is troubled by some new case that walks through his frosted glass door. Sometimes it chills you to the bone. Sometimes it’s a dame.”
“We don’t refer to women as dames anymore. I would try to find other references for..”
“.. Tall, red dress, heels clicking down the hallway, heart torn between standing up against a cruel world and smiling at a handsome young fella at the bar with a sharp suit and cool easy smile.”
“I… What?”
“A lone Saxaphone plays in the background, echoing through a dark alley…”
“I love where this is going, but we..”
Paul continues ignoring Nicolas, “It starts to rain…”
Nicolas runs his hand down his face in frustration. “Website? Can we just create the website and then we find the first client? And if there is time I can grab a can of Pringles?”
“Rain to try to clean this dirty city…” Paul continues ignoring Nicolas, his eyes far away.
It’s no use. He gives up and let’s the talking potato (apparently) drive the story.
Nicolas tries to get him back on track, “SO. Detective with a drinking problem. Frosted glass door. What name is painted on the door? Paul and Nicolas Almeida Detective Agency?”
Paul shakes his head.
“Paul and Nicolas. Problems Solved. LLC. PI. CPA. PHD. Insured.”
“P&N Detectives. No case half baked!”
Paul looked at me with disdain, “Half baked? Potato? Seriously?”
I smiled sheepishly. “Yeah? No? No. Okay never mind that one. Anyway, why don’t we head upstairs and hop on the computer and we’ll figure it out?” I kept smiling hopefully and then finally turned to go on my own and leave him on the table.
“Wait. I should go and make sure you don’t mess it up.”
“Gee thanks.”
“That’s what partners are for right?”
“Right!” I scooped him up and ran up the stairs 2 steps at a time. I pulled Paul and my laptop onto my bed and got to work.
Paul watched as I slapped my fingers against the keys and created our website and laid out the landing page. I read, “N and P Detectives. All cases considered. No case too small. Reasonable Rates!”
I added, “What do you think?”
Paul nodded, “It’s good.”
“Great!”
“I wish it was better, ” He said with a distinct sound of disappointment.
“Now we wait..”, I said with as much optimism as I could dig up.
Chapter
11
A full week had passed since we put up the website for N&P Detectives. Paul and I had been checking every morning and every night for any messages from prospective clients. I was sure we would get a job soon. Paul wasn’t so sure.
I glanced over at Paul. He was sitting at my bedroom window. He looked like he was studying the Magnolia tree outside my second story bedroom window. The wind was pushing it back and forth causing the late afternoon sun to flash on and off through the white and pink colored petals. I could only imagine the dark detective story he was imagining in his head.
A not so familiar chime rang from my laptop folded onto the bottom of the bed. I nearly tripped and fell as I raced to it and cracked it open:
Dear sir, madam,
I need your help. I have lost a battleship and desperately need to find it. Can you help? If so please let me know and I will send you all the information I have. Desperately waiting to hear from you
Respectfully,
Cpt. Jonathan Edson
“Wow Paul! This is fantastic!” I exclaimed. I grabbed him and showed him the message. This was so cool. “Our first case isn’t something silly, but a serious crime! At least it sounds like it. I don’t know military law. Stealing a ship has to be a big deal right?”
Paul studied the message for a while and then sat quiet for a long time.
“What’s our first move?” I inquired. I always liked to let him take the lead.
“Scene of the crime. We need to collect evidence.”
“Of course,” I replied. “I’ll write them back and tell them we’ll take the case.”
After what seemed like forever the laptop chimed and we got all the details. The ship was docked in Falls River MA. Mr Edson was there on assignment and after his business there overnight he found the ship was missing in the morning. Apparently he did some thorough searching but failed to find any clues. There were some additional details. Paul and I studied them but found little.
“Looks like our next stop is Falls River.”
I opened my mapping program and pinpointed the location. We could probably get a bus ride there. Looked like the #327 went from South Station to Falls River three times a day and there was one the next day and thankfully it wasn’t a school day.
I turned to Paul, “Let’s get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow.”
I got ready for bed, wished Paul goodnight and snuggled under my bed sheets and thought about the adventure ahead.