PREVIOUSLY ON POP CULTURE MYSTERIES…
READ PART 1 – Jake receives a request from Bookshelf Q. Battler to investigate whether Han or Greedo shot first in the original Star Wars (1977) film. Our resident gumshoe is reminded of a similar encounter he had with mobster Tips Malone.
The case had come to a standstill. I had zero leads and even less patience.
“I give up,” I said as I put my feet up on my desk and drifted back to sleep.
“Who shot first? Who cares? Why does it even matter?”
Hatcher types his report.
The enchanting face of Delilah K. Donnelly filled my dreams but alas, it was all for naught.
My chances of getting up close and personal with that blonde bombshell?
About the same as a duck billed platypus walking into a room without anyone laughing.
An hour later, there was a knock on my office door.
I ignored it. More knocks.
“Beat it, Jack!” I yelled. “I’m closed!”
Another knock.
“Mr. Hatcher?”
It was Delilah. I jumped out of my chair faster than the 6:15 to Walla Walla, Washington.
I found a mirror and straightened my fedora. I was a mess but then again, I always was. Most private dicks usually are. Par for the course in the criminal catching racket.
Delilah K. Donnelly, BQB’s Attorney
I opened the door and there she was, my dream girl all decked out from stem to stern in a gorgeous dress.
Such a fashion maven. I doubt she ever took two steps away from home without gussying up and polishing herself shinier than a hay penny.
“Mr. Hatcher,” Delilah said. “I dare say your mother would be appalled that you kept a lady waiting.”
“She would indeed, Ms. Donnelly, she would indeed,” I said as I showed her in and pulled out a chair for her. “Unfortunately, I had to make myself presentable.”
“Are you still working on that?” Delilah asked as she pinched her nose, oblivious to the fact that her insult struck my heart with the precision of an arrow shot by Robin Hood’s bow. “It smells like a distillery in here.”
“Yes,” I said as I grabbed a flask off my desk and shoved it into a drawer. “One of uh, my clients, left that here. Poor drunk fellow. Can’t get enough of the stuff. Me personally, I rarely touch the devil’s juice.”
“I should hope not,” Delilah said as she sparked up one of her filtered cigarettes. “I worry about the integrity of individuals with addictions, Mr. Hatcher.”
I thought about pointing out that smoking was, in fact, an addiction but the gears cranking away in my brain indicated to me that such a statement wouldn’t take me very far in my quest to separate Ms. Donnelly from her fine fashions.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” I asked.
The lady lawyer plopped a plastic bag on my desk. I opened it up and found these fellas inside:
The Suspects
“What in the name of Dwight D. Eisenhower is all this then?” I asked.
“Research,” Delilah said. “Mr. Battler sent me to a store to purchase these toys and asked that I deliver them posthaste in the hopes that they will help you solve your second pop culture mystery.”
“I don’t get it,” I said as I held one of them up. “What am I supposed to do with these guys?”
“Well,” Delilah said as she blew out a smoke ring. “They’re toys are they not? You simply play with them, Mr. Hatcher, and see what happens next.”
Will Hatcher crack the case? The story continues tomorrow…
Copyright (c) Bookshelf Q. Battler 2015. All Rights Reserved.
Detective and blonde woman images courtesy of a shutterstock.com license.
Bookshelf Battle 