Rex Spencer

Rex Spencer and the Missing Mittens

Work had been slow since the Gingerbread case, but that was all about to change. The day she walked into my office was like any other.  Dust floating through the rays of late morning sun as I dozed in my chair.  I could see the outline of her shadow against the frosted glass of my door as she knocked – a door that read “Rex Spencer, P.I.”

She entered the room, her lines were sleek, her coat like liquid silk.  My instincts told me this dame was going to be trouble.

“Mr. Spencer, I need your help,” the Siamese said, not bothering to introduce herself, blue eyes like marbles made of sky.

They always needed my help, but I couldn’t turn down a case right now, a dog has to eat and I was fresh out of bones.

“It’s my kittens, detective.”

Wonderful, a cat with baggage, I thought.

“They’ve lost their mittens,” she continued, “they were in,” she stopped and turned away, ashamed or embarrassed, I couldn’t tell.

“Go on,” I prodded.

“They were in Fairy Town.” she finished her face buried in her paws.

If a kitten wanted catnip, that was the place to go and I would bet my fedora it was the only reason a high-end litter like this would have been caught in a place like Fairy Town.

“What’s so special about your kids’ mittens?” I said.

“They’ve been passed down in our family.  They’re…magic,” she said, her voice catching in her throat, but I couldn’t tell if it was anxiety or a hairball.

***

If there was anyone who knew where the magic beans were buried in  Fairy Town, it was the proprietor of the Hair with Flair beauty salon – Rapunzel.  I walked in as the princess was sweeping up purple and green locks from a checkered tile floor.

“Looks like a busy day with the unicorns,” I said.

Rapunzel, her back to me, straightened at the sound of my voice.  With lightning speed, the diminutive former princess was across the room and holding a pair of sterling silver scissors against my throat.

“Rex Spencer, I told you if I ever saw you again, I’d give you a haircut from the inside out.”

“Easy toots, I’m not here to relive the past, no matter how good we were together.  I need information,” I replied pulling her closer, feeling the scissors relax in her hand.  She pushed away and went back to her broom.

“You’ve got some nerve poking your snout around here for answers,” she said, still facing away.

“Any word on the street about magic mittens?”

Rapunzel turned, this time concern replaced anger in her emerald green eyes.

“Stay away from this case Rex, those mittens are nothing but a poison apple.”

“Can’t kid, it’s my job.  Not all of us were born into royalty.”

“I’m just a regular girl now, cutting hair and listening to stories and yours won’t have a happy ending if you get involved with that golden thug again.”

It didn’t take a magic mirror to know who Rapunzel was talking about.  Midas had his hands in just about every dirty business in Fairy Town and I wasn’t surprised he was involved with fencing some magic mittens.

“Thanks doll, I owe you.”

“Be careful Rex,” She turned her back on me for the last time.

***

The Golden Noodle was on the shady side of Fairy Town where the witches go for their brews and the trolls hang out looking for bones to grind.  It was usually a place you avoided, but their udon soup was pretty decent.  Midas rant the joint, I knew he’d be there.

I walked through the front door, flanked on both sides by rows of golden statues featuring creatures of all types forever frozen in agonizing poses.  Midas used to be a king, until he was deposed and stripped of his power.  Now he ruled in the criminal underworld and had to satisfy his lust for gold through malefaction and depravity.

“Rex Spencer, what brings you my humble little business this fine day,” Midas called from a dimly lit corner table, “The lunch special is a spicy miso ramen,” I could see him flashing his gold teeth despite the low light.

“I’m not here for the noodles,” I replied, eyeing the pair of menacing satyrs seated on either side.  “A little pixie told me you might know where I can find a few pairs of lost mittens.”

Midas’ smile lost its luster, “Spencer, you may have a nose for finding things, but you’ve never known how to keep it out of the wrong business.”

I tossed an envelope on the table in front of Midas.  He looked at it but didn’t pick it up.

“Let me save you the trouble Midas.  Turn over the mitts and let’s just say the pictures I have of your illegal mermaid trafficking operation will remain between friends.”

Midas looked uncomfortable but didn’t say anything further.  The satyrs backed off and I knew I had the mighty golden king on the edge of the smelter.  He nodded and one of the satyrs scooped up the envelop, the other laid down a small satchel.  I examined the contents and tucked them into my coat.

“Next time, stay away from the kittens Midas,” I snarled.

“Kittens!” he laughed, “Is that the line she fed you?” My gut tightened.  “My advice, get rid of those mittens and forget you ever met that cat.  The last unlucky chap that had them wound up enchanted into a frog.  I think he’s still looking for a kiss to break the spell,” Midas continued his insidious cackling as I left the Golden Noodle.

That’s Fairy Town, nothing is what it seems and a detective can count on the tales never ending like they were written.