“I genuinely thought about it,” he said, moving closer to her. “You look absolutely stunning, by the way,” he said. “Just wow!”
Abby blushed with modesty. “What’s wrong with your hand? What have you done to yourself now?” she asked, in reference to the beige bandage covering the index finger of his left hand.
“Ah… you’ll find out. Please, take a seat,” he said, pulling out a chair for Abby.
Sam clapped his hands together, and from nowhere a man in a black tuxedo appeared with violin in hand.
“Sam, you’re amazing. This is stunning, truly wonderful,” said Abby. “Hang on. He looks familiar. Isn’t that one of the mariachi band?” she asked in reference to the man producing a haunting tune on the violin.
Sam motioned with his hand, and the violinist ripped off his moustache without missing a note. “He’s a man of many talents!” he proclaimed. “Also, I’d already paid him, so thought I may as well make good use of him. So there’s that,” he added with a cheeky grin.
Sam disappeared from view for a moment, stepping behind a stone column. After the clattering sound of dishes threatened to disrupt the virtuoso performance, Sam returned with an enormous silver serving dish, which he placed in the centre of the table.
Sam used his fingers to act as drumsticks, and he strummed them on the table to build up the anticipation. Like pulling a rabbit from a hat, he whipped the lid off to reveal a perfectly-dressed lobster.
Abby looked at the lobster, then to Sam, and then back to the lobster. “I’m guessing the lobster did that to your finger, then?” she asked, with an expression that was a mixture of both sympathy and mirth.
“Yup,” said Sam. “He sure did. This little crustaceanary cracker broke my finger. But it was worth it.”
“What was?” asked Abby.
Sam bowed his head. “Delivering on a promise, Abby,” he said, before taking her hand in his. He looked her in the eye as the music reverberated around the cathedral walls and the candlelight flickered on Abby’s pretty face. “Abby, I said I’d catch a lobster for you, and I did. It nearly severed an artery. But I did it.”
Abby leaned forward and placed the gentlest of kisses on Sam’s cheek. “Thank you. Thank you for this. All of it. It’s special,” she said to him. “Can you do me just one favour before you sit down?”
“Of course,” Sam replied.
“For the love of all that’s holy, please put some trousers on. It doesn’t embarrass me, mind you. It’s just you’ve got better legs than me, and you’re showing me up.”
Copious amounts of wine were consumed over the course of the evening — including by the violinist, who was started to do the musical equivalent of slurring, though Sam and Abby were too preoccupied to notice. Abby couldn’t have wished for a more magical location for their first date, and a more magical evening. Well, apart from the discarded shorts which hung on the side of Sam’s chair, of course.
The music stopped for a moment as the violinist replenished the contents of his glass.
“What are you staring at?” asked Abby of Sam.
“You,” said Sam. “I’ve wanted this for so long, and to be finally sat here, is, well... ace.”
Abby groaned. “Ace?”
“I crumpled in the moment,” replied Sam. “But, yes. Ace. Brilliant, fantastic, and amazing. Thank you for being here.”
Abby caressed the back of his hand. “You couldn’t possibly flick those shorts from your chair, could you?” she asked. “They’re quite distracting.”
“I’ll bet they are,” Sam answered, waggling his eyebrows. He then took them and swung them playfully around his head before releasing like an elastic band.
“Thank you! Oh, something to tell you as well,” she said with a hint of mystery. She held her tongue for an age.
“Well?” prompted Sam.
“I got a call today,” said Abby. “From Henry.”
“Who’s Henry? A new client?”
“No,” said Abby. “Remember Emma said his name in the lighthouse? Like she knew him?”
“No. I thought I’d been mortally wounded at that point,” said Sam. “But go on.”
“A splinter,” said Abby. “It was a splinter.”
“A chunk of glass. A huge chunk,” he countered.
“Anyway,” she continued. “One of the police, or whatever they were, was Henry. Turns out that Henry was undercover the whole time. He’d been working with the real FBI, and was with MI6 or some James Bond-style agency. He’d worked with Emma, as it turns out, who’d had no idea throughout, of course, who he was. He had to get close to her to bring down Mr Esposito and the gang.”
“Cheese and crackers!” said Sam, eloquently.
“I know! He phoned me to let me know that Emma and Madeline were safe. They’re in protective custody for the time being. At least until the court case.”
“That’s good of him to phone you.”
“I know. Emma asked him to say thank you to both of us. And she said she would pay us a visit, if she could. Oh, and the great news is that Joey is going to be fine!”
Sam smiled. He knew Abby was fond of the big guy, regardless of the fact that Joey was at one point going to be the last face she’d ever see. “Is he going to jail, then?”
“No, I think he’s going to be giving evidence. Joey loved animals, and Emma’s sister Madeline is a vet. So she’s going to be giving him a job, as it happens.”
“Bloody long phone call?” said Sam.
Abby rolled her eyes. “I’m just glad they’re all okay,” she said. “I’m really pleased they’re okay.”
Sam handed a rolled-up scroll to Abby.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“Open it and you’ll find out.”
She used her fingernail to break a small wax seal and then unravelled a superbly illustrated certificate.
“You wanted a place on our website for all the cases we’ve solved,” Sam explained. “But I thought we should also have a space on our office wall where we could hang a visual reminder of our work. This is the first one. You know, with a clever Sherlock Holmes styling.”
Abby raised one eyebrow. “Sam, that’s a wonderful idea.” She held it out with both hands, and with the gentle illumination of the candle read the words aloud:
The Eyes Peeled Seaside Detective Agency:
The Art of Forgery
“I love it,” said Abby. “I think we’re going to have a lot more certificates on the wall judging by how often the phone has been ringing. The old man is going to be delighted by the amount of money we’re bringing in.”
Sam raised his glass. “To us! To Sam and Abby and Eyes Peeled, the greatest seaside detective agency!”
Abby raised her glass. “Sam,” she said calmly. “Sam, your shorts have caught on the candlestick. They’re on fire.”
The End
… for now. In the style of Bond, The Seaside Detective Agency will be back. I’m not as organised as Ian Fleming so don’t have the next title to tease you with. But it’ll be a cracker, I promise! See you again soon. X
Please check out some of my other titles on the next few pages!
You may also have a butcher’s at my amazon author page here, for my entire selection of lovely books:
www.amazon.co.uk/J-C-Williams/e/B01IRNGDNY
I hope you enjoyed this book. If you did, you may also like the Lonely Heart Attack Club series – also based in the Isle of Man.
www.amazon.co.uk/Lonely-Heart-Attack-Club/dp/1548766429
www.amazon.co.uk/Lonely-Heart-Attack-Club-Olympics/dp/1976456169
www.amazon.co.uk/Frank-Stans-Bucket-List-Races/dp/1985302136
You may also check out my brilliant editor’s own book. And make certain to leave a review so he’ll stop whinging!
www.amazon.co.uk/Get-Some-Sleep-Dave-Scott/dp/1976262496
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The Seaside Detective Agency_The funniest Cozy Mystery you'll read this year Page 20
