'I didn't hear that,' said Eddie. 'Do you know where it happened?'
'At the Nadine's Fast Food Diner down the road. The one with the pretty waitress. Apparently Nadine wouldn't even close the restaurant. They took away the cooked corpse and she just went on serving dinners. Didn't even change the fat in the fryer.'
The colour drained from Jack's face. 'Where's the toilet?' he asked.
'I'll show you,' said Eddie. 'I need it too.'
Presently the two rather shaky-looking detectives returned to the bar. They were both somewhat lighter in the stomach regions.
'And what makes it worse,' said Tinto, continuing where he left off, pulling further beers and losing count, 'is that Jack Spratt owed me money. Him and his damned secret society. He rented my upstairs room for their meetings and now I bet I'll never get my money.'
'Secret society?' Eddie swallowed beer. 'What secret society?'
'Probably the Spring and Catch.’ Jack swallowed beer.
Eddie and Tinto swivelled in Jack's direction.
'What do you know about the Spring and Catch?' Eddie's voice was a hoarse whisper. Which is not to be confused with a horse whisperer.
'Not much,' said Jack. 'Only that they perform strange rituals and that all the Preadolescent Poetic Personalities are members. Boy Blue was in it. And Humpty Dumpty. And Jack Spratt.'
'How do you know this?'
'There was a book at Boy Blue's. I saw it.' Jack took up another beer. 'Significant, eh?'
'I wonder why they'd hold their meetings here?' Eddie wondered.
'And you call yourself a detective,' said Jack.
'Excuse me?' said Eddie.
'Eddie,' said Jack, 'if this was a Bill Winkie thriller, it would now be approximately halfway through. And by this time, all the major players would have made their appearances and most of the major locations would have been established. Tinto's bar has already been established as a major location in the scenario. It's where the detectives drink. So it shouldn't surprise you to find that something pertinent to the case would have happened here.'
'You're getting pretty good at this,' said Eddie.
'It's pretty basic stuff,' said Jack, 'for we professional private eyes.'
'You're right,' said Eddie. 'So go on, Tinto, let's have it.'
'Have what?’ Tinto asked.
'Whatever it is.' Eddie tapped at his nose. 'The all-important something that is pertinent to the case.'
'I don't know what you're talking about.'
'The Spring and Catch held their rituals in your upstairs room. I think you'll find that they left something behind. Something seemingly irrelevant to you, but of great importance to the professional private eye. That's the way it always happens in detective thrillers.' Eddie winked at Jack.
'You can't wink,' said Jack. 'Not with those button eyes.'
'See how good he's getting, Tinto,' said Eddie. 'Attention to detail and good continuity is everything.'
'Thanks,' said Jack. 'So where's the important something, Tinto?'
'Well,' said Tinto, and his head revolved, 'I can't think of anything. Except, of course — but no, that wouldn't be it.'
'It would,' said Eddie.
'It would.' Jack took up another glass and drank from it. Eddie, whose glass was empty, helped himself to one of Jack's.
'I think I have it somewhere,' said Tinto. 'Or perhaps I threw it away.'
'You didn't throw it away,' said Eddie. 'Go and look for it.'
'All right.' Tinto wheeled away along behind the bar.
'What do you think it will be?’ Jack asked Eddie. 'Key to a left luggage locker? Receipt for something? Map with a big X on it? Or maybe even the Big M itself.’
'You really did read all the Bill Winkie thrillers, didn't you?'
'All of them,' said Jack.
'Then I expect you remember how fastidious he was. How he didn't like his trenchcoat getting dirty. And how much he really cared about his motor car.'
Jack dusted down the lapels of the now extremely grubby trenchcoat and wondered what the jobbing vandals might presently be helping themselves to from Bill Winkie's automobile.
'When he gets back from his holiday,' said Jack, carefully, 'I'm sure he'll be very impressed by the way you solved the case.'
'Ah, here comes Tinto,' said Eddie.
And here Tinto came. 'Found it,' he said, twirling something between those oh-so-dextrous fingers that Eddie oh-so-coveted. 'I hope it's what you're hoping for.' Tinto passed it over to Eddie.
Eddie placed the item before him upon the bar counter and poked at it with a paw. In terms of the looks of it, it was truly beyond description. But considering its size, or lack of it, its weight was unsurprising. 'It looks like the Big M,' he said. 'The Maguffin. What do you think, Jack?'
'Looks like it to me,’ Jack agreed.
'What's a Maguffin?' Tinto asked.
'You tell him, Jack,' said Eddie. 'You've read all the Bill Winkie thrillers.'
'Certainly,' said Jack. 'In all detective thrillers, there is always a Maguffin. The Maguffin is the all-important something, the all-importantness of which will not become apparent until its important moment has come.'
'Well put,' said Eddie.
'I see,' said Tinto, who didn't. 'Then I'm glad I could be of assistance. Do you want to settle your bar bill now, Eddie?'
'No,' said Eddie. 'I don't. But Jack will tell you what I do want to do.'
Jack raised another tiny glass of beer. 'Is it, get drunk?' he asked.
'It is.' Eddie raised his glass. 'And when Jack and I are drunk, we will come up with some really inspired idea for solving the case. And then, while balancing upon my head, I'll show you this really funny thing I can do with a contraceptive.'
'And then I'll throw you out,' said Tinto.
'Sweet as,' said Eddie. 'Whose round is it now?'
'Yours,' said Jack. 'Ten more for me.'
'Sweeter than sweet as.' Eddie grinned. 'Same again please, chap.'
18
They got very drunk.
Eddie showed Jack the really funny thing he could do with a contraceptive and Tinto threw them both out of the bar. But as it was late, and they were both very drunk, they didn't really care.
They wandered back to Bill Winkie's office, assuring each other, as if assurance were required, that they were 'bestest friends'.
Jack threw up in the bathroom. Eddie strung himself up on the Venetian blind. Jack collapsed onto the floor.
The night passed without further incident.
In the morning the big smiley sun arose above the roofscape of Toy City and beamed down its blessings upon each and all without due favour or prejudice.
The soundly snoring detectives awoke, Jack nursing a hangover to stagger the senses of the Gods and Eddie as fresh as the proverbial daisy that was never actually mentioned in a proverb.
'Feeling rough?' Eddie asked.
'As rough as,' said Jack.
'Perfect,' said Eddie.
'Perfect?' said Jack.
'Bill Winkie was always hungovered,' said Eddie. 'That anti-hangover lotion never worked too well.'
'What?' said Jack. 'But you...'
'And I had to top you up with a hypodermic full of happy juice. But all that is behind us. You keep the hangover, Jack. It will help you to function as a proper private eye. We're professionals now.'
Jack groaned. 'Breakfast?' he suggested. 'Then we find out what this Maguffin's for.' He turned the Maguffin over on his palm. Considering the lightness of its shade, it was quite dark in colour. 'Right?'
'Wrong,' said Eddie. 'We review the situation. That is what we do. Try to gain a detached overview.'
'Right.' Jack rubbed at his throbbing forehead and returned the Maguffin to his trenchcoat pocket. 'Go on then,' he said. 'Impress me.'