Snakebite McMuffin leaned back on his creaking office chair and tried to think. This had been a complicated case, it was one where it paid to consider all of the angles. With a moments trepidation he wrote down 19.7 degrees. There, he had solved it. There was the proof.
It was with that word, “proof”, hanging in his mind that he turned his mind to another kind of proof. One that was lurking in his bottom drawer. One that was significantly stronger than 19.7 degrees proof. He slid the drawer open and reached inside. His he drifted his hand forward until his knuckles gently tapped on the bottle. It was, he always felt, like he was knocking to be let in. He turned his hand and grasped the bottle fully. The cold of the bottle searing into his sweaty palm. He had only just started to pull the bottle towards him when…
He let go of the bottle and slammed the drawer shut. He did it a little too hard and then had to open the drawer again, pick up the bottle, right it, and then carefully close the drawer. He had just done this when…
Snakebite hit the intercom switch with his fist and shouted, “YeahWhaddaYaWant”.
“Dame here to see you”.
“Okay. Send her in.”
A woman here? In the office? He couldn’t believe it. He looked around at the mess of pizza boxes and chinese takeout cartons and shrugged. If she wanted to hire him she had to accept that he was going to have to go on a lot of stake-outs. His secretary had at first complained about how she didn’t think he really needed to bring all of the boxes back with him. But he’d explained how it helped with keeping expenses in order.
But just as he looked up to the door in readiness for her arrival, whoever she was, he saw a pile of personal photos relating to another case on the other side of the desk. Old Snakebite may have been a slob but he wasn’t sloppy. He could not afford for her to see those photos. He leapt up from his chair and ran round the desk. The movement of air that this created blew the photos off the pile and right onto the floor. He was still scrabbling around down there when the door opened and she stepped in.
From where he was kneeling the first thing he noticed was her dark red heels and then as he looked up there were her legs which seemed to go on for miles and miles or at least for a good number of feet.
Snakebite picked himself off of the ground and as he raised himself he appraised the woman opposite him. She was wearing a deep red skirt and matching jacket, a cream dress shirt, blonde hair and lips that seemed to say, “Snakebite McMuffin I presume”.
“What?” asked Snakebite.
“You are Mr McMuffin aren’t you?”
“Yes, yes, sorry yes,” he replied as he wiped his hand on his shirt and proffered it for shaking.
The lady, initially and almost instinctively had started to offer her hand so she could shake the one that was being swung her way. But then she noticed the stain that Snakebite’s hand had left on his shirt and she withdrew it.
Snakebite decided that a different tack was in order so he straightened himself up and ambled back towards his side of the desk. As he walked he said, “I see you know my name, but I’m afraid I don’t know yours. Ms…?”
“Miss Trousers. Miss Felicity Trousers”.
“Felicity Trousers,” Snakebite repeated looking and sounding a little surprised, “as in Felicity Trousers, heiress to the Trouser Millions?”.
“Yes,” she looked at him sternly, “that Felicity Trousers. You look a little surprised, detective.”
“Well yes I,” he paused clearly weighing up the right way of phrasing something, “well yes I suppose I am. It’s just that your old bastard of a father, no offence, didn’t tend to farm out any jobs to me. He always used the big boys uptown.”
“What Pry, Vate and Dick?”
“Yeah that outfit.”
“He certainly did. But I need to use somebody else Mr McMuffin. I surely do. I need somebody my father never dealt with, somebody my father never trusted. Are you that man?”
[What would Snakebite do? Would he take the case? Tune in next week to find out (hint: yes he does take the case)]