The Case of the Singing Sword (The Billibub Baddings Mysteries)

by Tee Morris

  “Okay, boss, we need to warm you up. How about a nice lunch special at Mick’s…on me, since it’s my fault you might catch your death of a cold?”

  I hopped down from the fountain’s lip. Nothing outside of a black mennisha-skin blanket could warm me up better. “Seeing as I just saved the city from a new age of darkness, I think I’ve earned it.”

  We headed over to Mick’s. No doubt we’d have to tell the story behind how I got into Buckingham Fountain several times over for Mick and his lunch crew. If that was the penance I had to pay in keeping secrets from my girl, it was a penance I could handle.

  So, we were one month ahead on the bills (would’ve been three if Julie had been able to make that Monday-morning meeting and I hadn’t become a silent patron of sculptors), Miranda’s salary covered, and I…well, I didn’t need any fun for a while. I’d gotten plenty of that on this case one way or another, and all I needed now was a break. In fact, I was starting to find a new appreciation for the calmer, gentler days at Baddings Investigations. Besides, I couldn’t help but reflect on what the Dwarven Elders would say to us soldier types when we were all itching for another fight after a war: “Patience is also a virtue of the soldier. Remember, just because the dragon is slain does not mean its children are dead as well.”

  Yeah, I figured I’d revel a bit in the slow time—maybe even catch a game at Wrigley Field—before the next hatchling came knocking on my office door.