Super Sleuth Stu

Another win in the Aspiring Writers group competition.
"Super Sleuth Stu" will be published in the 2015 Anthology early in 2016.

At 9.15 a.m. the strident tone of my cell phone disturbs my reverie. I pick it up.

‘Hello, Super Sleuth Stu, how can I help you?’ The lady sounds frantic.

‘Francis is gone and the auction is at two. You have to help me!’

‘Okay, lady, calm down. Who is Francis and what has he got to do with an auction?’

‘It’s Francis of Assisi!’

‘But lady, he’s been gone for several hundred years!’

‘No, no! It’s the painting of Saint Francis of Assisi! It’s worth thousands and it’s gone – and the auction is at two and I have to find it!

‘Lady, slow down! What’s your name and where are you?’

‘I’m Celia at the Gaston Gallery. We came in this morning and the painting was gone. Please help me!’

‘Okay, Celia, I’ll be there in a few minutes. Don’t let anyone near the scene.’

Gaston Gallery is a door on Main Street plastered with posters announcing ‘Auction Today - Modern and classical artworks.’ I press the button and wait, looking up and down the grey streetscape. The door opens and I look down on a middle-aged lady, wringing her hands in obvious distress. I guess it is Celia.

‘Hi Celia, I’m Stu. Tell me what happened!’ She directs me into the gallery where there is a blank space among the displayed artworks.

‘Francis was there last night and this morning, he was gone!’ Tears fill her eyes.

‘He is the draw-card for today’s auction – I have to find him or Peter will never forgive me!’

‘Let’s start at the beginning! Who is Peter?’

‘He owns the gallery.’

‘Does he have any enemies?’

‘Not really, his brother, Merv would like to see him crash. Merv has some shady connections and Peter’s ex-girlfriend, Suzie still has a chip on her shoulder – she’d like to see him fail.’

‘Who had access to the premises last night?’

‘Oh, they all did.’

‘Are there any signs of a break-in?’

‘No, everything is locked, but Merv and Suzie both have keys.’

‘Where does this go? I indicate a door at the end of the room.

‘It goes downstairs to the store and workshop.’ As she turns the light on I see a glittering object on the stairs. I stoop and pick up a diamond ear ring.

‘That looks like the one Peter wears, he must have dropped it!’

The workshop is a mess with paintings propped against the walls.

‘Does Suzy wear blue socks?’

‘No, why do you ask?’

‘There’s one on the floor at the end of the bench.’

‘I’ll have to speak to those cleaners! They were supposed to clean everything last night, ready for the auction.’

The sounds of footsteps boom on the floor above.

‘The auction is about to start!’ Celia raises her hands to her cheeks in horror.

‘What’s under this sheet?’ Celia turns to look.

“They are paintings to be checked.’ I flick through them. Celia squeals.

‘That’s Francis! That last one you turned. Let’s get it up to the gallery!’

We rush the painting up the stairs and I place it on the vacant hook.

A man comes mincing across the room. The name-tag identifies him as Peter.

‘Where did you find that? Peter’s eyes narrow as he looks at me.

‘It was in the workshop, where you concealed it. I also found an ear ring on the stairs that looks like yours.’

Pretty Pete flicks a wayward curl from over his right eye and slides it behind his ear. A disdainful sneer slithers across his face.

‘You can’t accuse me just on that ear ring! Anybody with two thousand dollars can buy one at Sears.’

‘Oh, it’s not just the ear ring! There was a raw hide dog bone on the floor between the paintings.’ Peter laughs.

‘They’re all over the place!’

‘That may be so but you are the only person here who has a prissy little poodle that chews boutique raw hide dog bones and wears blue socks! − Was the insurance payout your target?’