Jimmy Plush, Teddy Bear Detective

by Cook, Garrett

  Chang laughed. He had good reason to laugh.

  “I know, she’ll probably cancel.”

  I went back to the note.

  “There is a soiree tonight at the mayor’s mansion,” it read, “and something strange is going on. We must investigate. You owe me big, Plush. Your “friend” Mittens O’ Hara. P.S the booze is free and there’s a big client in it for you.”

  Hmm. Big client. Free booze. Worse had happened to me lately. A poor kid had died to get me the message from that damn cat so the least I could do was attend.

  “I don’t think you should go,” said Chang, who had of course been reading over my shoulder (being only three feet tall, that’s not hard for people to do). There was a degree of nervousness beating out his typical Confucian chill.

  “And why do you say that?”

  “You have a date, most honored Mr. Plush.”

  “A date you laughed off a few seconds ago, Chang.”

  “I like to laugh.”

  “No, you don’t. You’re Chinese.”

  “Ah so…” he replied.

  It didn’t take a detective to deduce that something was wrong with my Chinaman.

  “Is there a reason you don’t want to go to the mayor’s house, Chang?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will you tell me this reason?”

  “Yes.”

  He did not respond for several seconds. So, I tapped my foot impatiently. He still did not respond.

  “Well?”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  “You just said you could.”

  “The wise man bends like the supple reed.”

  “And the wiseass breaks like the fragile twig.”

  “Ah so…”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t speak Japanese. But we can look it up back at the office while you get ready for your date with Jean.”

  This was a little more than I could take.

  “Chang, I’m angry, wounded and not naturally a patient little bear. What is wrong with you?”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

  “Chang!”

  The Chinaman hanged his head.

  “They say there are spirits in the mayor’s home.”

  “I know, that’s why I’m going. I could use some free booze after getting shot so much.”

  Chang remained stone-faced. It conflicted a lot with the mood of this quirky vaudevillian interlude.

  “Spirits of the dead. Strange ghosts.”

  “Come on, Chang, aren’t you just a little too old to be scared of ghosts?”

  Chang shook his head defiantly.

  “No sir, Mister Plush. Those ghosts are over a century old and I’m sure they know they’re scary.”

  “Chang, when we get back to the office, make sure to brew me a pot of coffee.”

  He did, even knowing that I wanted nothing more from it than to splash it in his face. He cleaned the coffee off his face, stitched me up a little and we looked around for a tuxedo. Turns out I didn’t even own a pair of pants. Looks like I’d have to make sure nobody took my coat. With all these preparations complete, Chang started to drove me to the mayor’s house.

  The mayor’s house was made of elephant ivory and surrounded by the graves of Nero City’s most prominent citizens. It was easy to see what left my primitive chauffeur’s once neatly bound feet quaking in his boots.

  “Chang shall wait in car.”

  “I won’t have it, Chang. Without my chauffeur, how am I supposed to look important? You’re going in with me. The only spooks here are washing dishes in the kitchen.”

  “I don’t know about that, Mister Plush…”

  “You don’t know about much of anything, Chang, you’re the chauffeur and I’m the boss. The chauffeur does what the boss tells him to.”

  “Well, if I get killed by ghosts, consider it my resignation.”

  “No, but I’ll dock your pay for your funeral.”

  “You’ve done worse.”

  We went to the door and rang the bell. I expected some big, mute negro to answer so imagine my surprise at seeing a shapely dame in a fox suit, one whose curves I knew all too well. We exchanged hellos that might as well have been business cards. She offered to take my coat and hat. Neither of us laughed. I had a hard time remembering what had made me love this woman and I was sure at this point she had a hard time remembering what had made her love me. It doesn’t stop me from loving her and I wonder if it doesn’t stop her. She said nothing else to me until she announced me to the party, a room full of dull socialites who would have had to try pretty hard to manage to contribute less to society.

  “Jimmy Plush, Teddy Bear Detective.” She was not enthusiastic about saying it and the socialites were not enthusiastic about hearing it. A fat lady in pearls actually fainted. While she was on the ground, a little guy in a big coat with blonde curly hair and a funny nose mounted her and started raping her unconscious body, honking a horn the whole time. This caused another fat lady in pearls to faint dead away. An Italian organ grinder grabbed the necklace off her neck and made a run for the door. I tripped him, kicked him in the head until he was out cold and returned it, hoping to get some kind of reaction. More polite applause. Bastards.

  The doorbell rang again and Jean ran off to get it. She returned with a cat in a tuxedo and a ravishing blonde. You know the type. Leggier than a millipede convention, with enough up top to fill a sweater and a half.

  “Mittens O’ Hara of the Nero City gazette and Miss Kate Hall.”

  Mittens and the dame don’t bother to mingle. They approach me right away.

  “Glad to see you got my message,” says Mittens.

  “No, actually, my limo got your messenger. Who is this ravishing beauty with you, pussycat?”

  “This ravishing beauty is the mayor’s daughter,” the cat reporter shoots back, “and you’ve got about as much of a chance with her as you do of getting a Nobel Prize or the World’s Tallest Man record.”

  “There’s no reason to be rude, Mr. O’ Hara,” says the blonde icily.

  “Sorry, kid. The bear and I go back a long way and I wish he’d go back to wherever he came from.”

  “This is no time for jokes, Mr. O’ Hara. We have called upon the famous Mister Plush and one only calls upon the famous Mister Plush in the most dire of circumstances.”

  “I wouldn’t say that, toots. You can call upon me in all kinds of circumstances.”

  She raised an eyebrow. In disgust.

  “I prefer my men…bigger.”

  “I’ll stand on a chair.”

  She started to cry.

  “Mister Plush, my father, he’s been acting so strange…”

  “What happened? Did he turn into a Democrat?”

  The conversation was cut off when I heard Jean announce another couple guests.

  “Johnny Hideous and Skinny Valentine, respectable tradesmen!”

  My frequent sparring partners had for some reason been invited to this soiree. I took note of this as it was both suspicious and dumb. They had traded their cheap suits for matching red tuxedos, which only served to remind me that Johnny Hideous’ shoulders would serve the world better as a bookshelf and that Skinny Valentine should seek employment as the world’s first homosexual scarecrow. Hideous wasted no time making an impression on the hoity-toities. He grabbed the blonde curly haired fella from off the society matron he was humping and tossed him against the wall so hard that his head cracked open, making a distasteful brain and bone stain. There was wild applause for this. A few of the society gentlemen exchanged business cards with him. There was a round of “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow”. Bastards.

  Kate Hall loudly cleared her throat. I turned back around, feeling like a real schmuck for giving Johnny Hideous my attention when I could have been looking at those gams and that chest. Perhaps Jean was right in her accusations that I spent too much time thinking about the people I wanted to kill. What Jean didn’t understa
nd was that my enemies had a leg up on her in that if they did something to make me mad, I could shoot them.

  “Sorry, doll. Got distracted.”

  “See that it doesn’t happen again.” Her tone was almost impossibly stern.

  “I can’t make any promises unless you put a sweater on over that dress. Then again, if it’s the right sweater, you could be even more distracting.”

  “This is hardly the time for flirting, Mister Plush. My father has been acting very strangely. He spends his days drooling, nodding his head and signing any document he’s given.”

  “I’m no Sigmund Freud, lady, but my diagnosis is that your father’s a politician.”

  Mittens rolled his eyes and walked away to investigate the party a little closer. And by the party I mean a platter of herring. Kate put her hands on her hips in annoyance.

  “Mister Plush, it is time to get serious.”

  “All right, but I think this relationship is moving a little fast.”

  I got down on one knee.

  “So how ‘bout it, will you marry me?”

  She gasped.

  “I don’t know, this is so sudden, but…yes.”

  “There. Case closed. Now let’s find your father and get his blessing.”

  “My father’s a drooling idiot.”

  “Then it should be pretty easy.”

  Kate’s pretty blue eyes teared up again.

  “Mister Plush, you must find out what happened to him. If we are to proceed with our wedding, I must have that peace of mind.”

  She needed peace of mind and I needed a piece of her so from the looks of things I was gonna have to do the job I came here to do. Whatever that was. But before I could do that, there was of course, another interruption.

  It was a tap on the shoulder from behind. I turned, expecting one of my many enemies, but instead saw Jean.

  “Mister Plush, you and I have business in the coatroom.”

  “Sorry, sweetheart, I don’t think we do. I’m engaged to be married.”

  “No you’re not.”

  “Unhand my fiancée, you floozy!” Kate screamed at her.

  Jean sighed loudly.

  “Look, it’s not about that.”

  “So why would I be interested?” I retorted.

  “Please, Mister Plush, this is very important.”

  So I followed her to the coat room and she showed me something I didn’t see very often; her face. She took off the head of her fox suit and looked me in the eyes. I wish I’d gotten to see her eyes more often, because they were gorgeous, emerald green. This time they were filled with terror.

  “I want you to know that I am not here of my own volition. I do not want to be apart from you. I love you, Jimmy Plush.”

  She put the fox head back on as if to say there was no more time for anything. I didn’t like it because what she just said was the sort of thing she’d only say to me if she thought that she was never going to see me again. I should have told her that I loved her, I loved her even though she was crooked and a whore and a Furry. Sometimes a man forgets things like that. I exited the coatroom more sad and confused than when I entered it.

  But the confusion and sadness gave way to anger pretty quickly. A top-hatted man, handsome save for his beady eyes and biggish nose slapped my fiancée. He immediately struck me as something of a shady character since the Italian jewel thief was standing beside him wearing a blank, vacant expression and a well pressed new tuxedo. I prepared to rush the top-hatted man from behind for hittin’ my girl but the Italian jewel thief saw me coming and held out his leg to trip me, which had a series of consequences, the least of which was me falling. Chang, who had been standing in the corner to avoid trouble saw me hit the floor and fainted. I fainted a lot, but I’d never seen Chang do it. This party was no good for the Chinaman’s usually indomitable nerves. Luckily for Chang, Mittens got his fat face out of the herring and decided to help Chang out, licking his face with his sandpapery tongue until he came to. Unluckily for Chang, his faint drew the attention of a nearby rich so-and-so, a white-haired, mustachioed man, who, while deciding that pants might not be appropriate for the occasion still sported a pith helmet and monocle.

  “I say,” he said, “isn’t that the Chinaman that recently ran for mayor?”

  Chang was smart enough to duck as soon as he heard the words “Chinaman” and “mayor” in the same sentence. More bullets, knives, throwing stars and blow darts than I’d ever seen in one place embedded themselves in the wall behind him. A group of cloaked figures heretofore unnoticeable made a mad dash for the door, their locations and agendas revealed. At least they didn’t decide to stick around and try to do the job right. I got up off the floor, feeling more than a little perturbed by this party.

  “Hey!” I shout at the top-hatted man, “what are you doin’ hittin’ my girl?”

  The top-hatted man gasped in shock, then pulled a sheet of paper out of his pocket.

  “Your girl? I’m afraid not, sir. I have here a marriage certificate signed by the mayor himself, which gives me authority to marry whoever I choose, and Miss Hall…” he paused, smiled and sighed deeply, “well, she sends me.”

  “Don’t listen to him!” Kate fell to her knees pleading, “you mustn’t believe him, my darling! Sylvain is a very suspicious character! He has just returned from The West Indies where it is rumored he learned to practice the voodoo necromancy of the islanders!”

  “Why that’s simply absurd,” said Sylvain with a chuckle, “my friend Mr. Rigatoni here was by my side during the entire trip and not once did he see my practicing any Voodoo. Isn’t that right, Mr. Rigatoni?”

  He nudged the Italian with his elbow. The Italian slowly nodded his head. It looked like it required a lot of effort.

  “Well, I’m satisfied.” I wasn’t. Nothing at this party was particularly satisfying. It was unsatisfying to the point at which the presence of Johnny Hideous and Skinny Valentine, who were attracted by the hubbub and now approaching me could almost be an entertaining diversion. Almost.

  “This man givin’ you trouble, Sylvain?” asked Johnny Hideous, his giant brow wrinkled with anger.

  “We could make some serious trouble for him,” Skinny chimed in, filing his nails with a switchblade.

  I put my hand on my gun, expecting Sylvain to order them to rip me to shreds. He surprised me.

  “Boy, you fellas sure are helpful but I think Jean could use some help down in the basement.”

  I couldn’t help but snicker a little.

  “Well, you heard the man. Jean could use some help down in the basement. I don’t even know what you boys are doin’ here anyway. Is Halperin too much of a coward to even come to parties?”

  “Nah,” Skinny spat at me, “he’s just too important.”

  “Really?” I shot back, wishing I could do so literally, “if I’d known this was a party for people of no consequence I wouldn’t have attended.”

  Hideous began to grind his teeth.

  “Come on, Sylvain, you say the word and we’ll pull out all this bear’s stuffing…”

  “Well, that’s real generous Mr. Hideous, but I just don’t think there’s any call for acting like that. Mister Plush is a guest of the mayor and Jean is awful busy down there in the basement.”

  The second time he said it, it hit me.

  “Jean’s in the basement? Maybe I should…”

  “No need, Mister Plush. You just enjoy the party. Johnny and Skinny can handle this, can’t you, boys?”

  “Yeah,” said Skinny, awfully proud of himself, “we can handle it. You just enjoy the party.”

  Hideous gave me what he must have thought was a smile.

  “You enjoy the party, Plush.”

  “Well now that you two mooks are out of the way, that should be a lot easier.”

  It was a weak quip. I wasn’t feeling strong or confident or at all in control of the situation. I slinked away from Sylvain and Kate to rejoin the party, deciding that my famous magic act woul
d turn the crowd in my favor.

  As I was pulling a quarter out of old Mrs. Slocombe’s ear, Chang was whispering into mine.

  “I don’t know if the people here are all alive.”

  I turned around to address him.

  “Well, Chang that’s to be expected at these society parties. You’re just used to more interesting company than these rich stiffs. Chang, you’ve got to make an effort to integrate yourself more, like me with my magic.”

  “But, Mister Plush…”

  “Chang, I am getting very tired of your cowardly and superstitious ways. You’re an American now, Chang—well, not a real American, but you live in America and in America we’re not very tolerant about cowardice and superstition. Immigrants need to keep their strange primitive beliefs back in the old country or else never become true Americans and be the subject of ridicule and the target of random but justified beatings. I will not have a coward who holds back the progress of the American Dream for a chauffeur.”

  My speech must have really affected him. His skin changed from yellow to white.

  “M…m…mister Plush….”

  “You know that I hate groveling Chang. I will have none of it.”

  “But m…m…m…m…” he was shaking.

  I heaved a sigh.

  “All right, Chang, maybe it was a little much for me to fire you. Now, calm down!”

  Behind me, a horn honked several times.

  “Hang on, pal, I’m lecturing my chauffeur!”

  The horn honked again three times.

  “I said, hang on, pal. Acts like he owns the road.”

  Somehow I felt as if something might actually be wrong.

  “What’s the matter, Chang?

  Chang pointed over my shoulder.

  “You know, Chang, it’s not polite to point. Should I assume then, if you’re pointing, something is very very wrong?”

  He nodded.

  “If I turn around, am I going to see something that’s unspeakably terrifying?”

  Honk honk. A nod from Chang. Against my better judgment, I turned around. I immediately stepped aside so the honker could get through. It was the curly haired rapist, still carrying his little horn. He had traded in his shabby trench coat for a new tuxedo which didn’t do much to take your attention away from his mangled, caved-in face. If anything, by contrast it emphasized that he had been bashed to death against a wall. Dead men could walk and honk here.