Busy St. was a bustling with some going, toing, and froing while Hustle Ave. was a hustling with Sad Sac a mugging this very helpful and gentle woman who had _____.
"Here's the deal grand granny, you mother of Gin & Pension, hand it over or else . . ." he slobbered. She saw him with moist eyes as he stood before her handcuffed and clad in bright, right orange, an orange a subtle shame of shady.
"Don't mind the new look, I hear it's all the rage in prison." and lamely raising his fist, with his other wrist in tow, Sad Sac threatened to hit her with all the might that one so hopefully hopeless could muster. Tsk, tsk, tsking, this little old lady gladly gave up and wished she could give this sweet child even more _____. Perhaps some hard candy?
"Beats hard TIME!" he said. The crinkled corner of her mouth crinkled a little more as her parting words of "Poor boy." sent a wave of desperation in the air. Sad Sac held onto the _____ and waited for the inevitable takedown which would never come.
Jack Aesthetic was piloting the Giant Condor-C back to New Popolisville and the Sister was saying, ". . . I understand Jack yet I think it was irresponsible of Reward to just leave in the middle of the Jamboree." Jack's mask, held tight against his head, had a sheen like copper and was the colour of a suave mauve. "Ward does as Ward shall do, Sissy. Perhaps he took his private plane and flew to his private sea? Perhaps he has a secret identity that none know of?" Jack saw an image of the old man, in his mind and now in the clouds, of Ward's alter ego, standing there in the heavens with a host of angles rising before Him. The plane punched a small hole through its cloudy right eye and the Sister said, "Would a simple telecall really kill him?" The clouds in front of the nun formed into a funeral with all who he has given to mourning the loss of one so generous. Count Accountant came into the cockpit and asked to speak to the Sister alone. When they were gone, Jack switched on the autopilot and then the autolisten.
"What is it, Count?" The Accountant recounted his figuring and numbering and the improper imbalance that had accrued over the course of the Super Jamboree. He was worried about any liability that might scare the shareholders, what with the expensive assets and the assistive expenses and Sir Reward not being able to explain the discrepancy on the account of his not being here. "By my fellow Sisters, how much are we out?" The number sounded far to high for the Sister. "How long can we keep quiet on this?" The number sound far to low for her.
The AutoCOPS had been working all night and most of the morning. Detective Worth had been reading all night and most of the morning when the Corporal walked into his office. "We picked someone up. Care to join me in the interrogation room?" Worth looked up from his newly acquired book, discreetly yawned and placed Sherlock Holmes in one of the many pockets inside his plain, long and lucky coat. "How is it?" the Corporal inquired. Together they walked to the elevator while Worth gave his initial review. "It's strange. It feels like Popolisville more than a century ago but after checking the deposits in the DataBank, none of the names or places matched up. Same with the writer." The elevator hummed into quick action. "The main character is fascinating though, a detective, like me. This detective uses inductive reasoning and observation to solve his cases. Unlike me." There was a quiet ding as the elevator came to an abrupt stop and Worth extended his arm, "After you, my dear Watson."
The two of them were observing N-Former from behind the one-way mirror. "The AutoCOPS did not have a lot to go on. This was the best they could do with so little evidence." Corporal COPulent took off his gloves, which were woven with Artisilk and had a coppery tinge to them. Cracking his knuckles he said, "Shall we?"
Worth followed him in and had a seat in front of N-Former. "Hey, I dunno nothing 'cept something 'bout that thing, you know? No? I was nowhere near wherever you think I wasn't. That thing with a robot, sure there's chitter and me? I was hanging out by my ladder, as I always do, every night and none a you can say otherwise. No? You hear 'bout what happened to Sally Surefoot? Surefeet now. Was with all the third degree?"
The Corporal sighed, "Tell us about the robot."
"Plenty robots round these parts these days, nary a week goes by without some Robot Face try 'scaping from prison. No? Maybe it had some help from a certain warden but I don't know nothing 'bout nothing 'bout that!" Worth took his book out and asked, "Have you ever seen this before? Heard anything?"
"Smells old. No? You try the library?" The room became still. After a couple of moments Worth took the book back. "What does the N stand for anyway?"
"I ain't never gonna say. Can't make me. I got rights, lefts and maybe even something on your momma. No? Am I free to go?"
"What now?" wondered the Corporal.
Worth looked at his lucky watch. Everyone would be back tonight and so far they had nothing. "Go and retrace the robot's last couple of hours, maybe the AutoCOPS missed something. And interview everyone again in the League who never went to the Jamboree."
"What are you going to do?"
Detective Worth felt like Captain Hunch. "I guess I'll go to the library."
TO BE CONTINUED