The Case of Fido's Jewels

Spam Hummer – The Case of Fido’s Jewels

         “Spam, I pulled the file on American Casualty Insurance Company, the contacts are in the file and I noticed that they also pay their bills. Dexter Robbins called and wants you to call him back as soon as you can.” Cassidy handed the file to Spam as he entered the small office and made his way to his desk.

         Cassidy was a good kid. She was a single mom with a six year old boy. The father walked out on her the day she told him she was pregnant. That was his loss; because, as far as Spam was concerned, they didn’t come any better than Cassidy.

          “Thanks, Doll, I guess this means I gotta do some work?”

          “You got it, Spam. And by the way, there’s a fresh cup of coffee and a jelly donut for you on your desk. Try not to get any of it on the file, will you?”

          “Sure, mom. Do I gotta wipe my feet too and wear my galoshes?”

          “That would be nice, Spam.”

         Cassidy adored Spam. He gave her an opportunity to provide for herself and her child. Being Spam’s ‘girl Friday’ may not be considered a glamour job by most women, but to Cassidy it was perfect. And, to her delight, she discovered that Spam really needed her. He was a talented private-eye. However, he could not keep books nor find a file, much less create one. Therefore, they made a great team. She kept him is calendar, balanced his books, sent in the money for the rent and the utilities, and he solved the cases.

          “We got a case, Cass!” Spam exclaimed as he hung the phone on the cradle. “Seems as if a half million dollars in cut and polished rubies have just been reported stolen from the estate of Marvin Mace. It looks a little strange to the boys in the front office and so they want me to dig around a little and report back. They’ll pay expenses and a $5,000 fee for the investigation; but if I save them the payment, it’s a five percent savings fee—that’s a cool twenty-five grand.”

          “That’s very good, Spam. I paid your traffic ticket, had your credit card limit extended, and your shirts are at Wong’s—they’ll be ready at 4:00. Try to live within our budget, will ya.”

         Spam smiled at Cassidy, “Doll, you’re gonna make someone a great wife. Watch the phones. I’m goin over to the Mace mansion while the cops are still on the scene. Maybe I’ll get a little inside info.”

          “OK, Spam, try to play nice with the policemen. You know how much you irritate them sometimes. Just be a good boy, OK?”

         Spam smiled at Cassidy and said, “I haven’t a clue as to what you’re talkin about. Gotta go.”

         With that Spam left the office, Cassidy, and a jelly donut dripping on the cover page of the American Casualty Insurance Company file.

*************

         The Mace mansion was the picture of opulence. A long drive down a cypress lined driveway terminated in a circular drive at the big front double doors. One of the doors stood ajar as uniformed and plain-clothed cops went in and out of the mansion. He found a vacant spot in the midst of the police cars and pulled his Fairlane between them. As he walked in the door he heard a familiar voice.

          “Hummer, what are you doin here? This is a crime scene and you’re not authorized to be here!”

          “Lieutenant Frisco, thank you for your warm welcome. If you will please refrain from muckin up this crime scene I’d appreciated it greatly.” Spam grinned at his old friend, and then added. “I’ve got business here, Dave.”

          “And just what kind of business is that? You workin for Mace?”

          “Nope, the insurance company. Seems as if Mace has already contacted them to recover the insurance money. Pretty quick work don't you think?”

          Dave Frisco shrugged and responded, “That’s interesting alright, but it only makes him a sharp businessman, not a thief.”

          “Maybe,” Spam returned, “but the day is young. What have you got.”

          “You know, it’s against policy for me to share this with you. And, being you're working for the insurance company, I guess that means were're working on the same side--sort of. Anyhow, you’ve proven to be helpful in the past. I guess it won’t hurt.”

         Dave Frisco had known Spam for years. Spam and he served as rookie police officers twenty years ago. There was a little too much structure in the police department and too many bosses for Spam's liking. Fifteen years ago Spam decided to be his own boss and do things his way. He left the force and opened his own Investigation business.

          “Go on then; tell me what we've got here,” Spam encouraged his friend.

          “Well, there are twenty cut and polished rubies missing. These are really big rocks--quality stuff. They’re worth about twenty-five thousand dollars each. Mace kept them in a wall safe located in his study. The safe is in the wall behind some books on the shelf. They were there last night. They are gone this morning. That’s all Mace told us.”

          “Mind if I look around?” Spam asked.

          “Be my guest, just don’t touch anything. You know the drill, Spam”

         Spam nodded agreement and strolled off towards Mace's study. He stood in the doorway of the took stock of the room. Police officers were milling around taking notes or filling out forms. Mace’s desk was disheveled and the bookshelves along one wall were disturbed. Books lay strewn on the hardwood floor. The glass doors that lead to an outside garden area were shattered and standing open.

         He recognized Marvin Mace standing on the balcony outside the shattered windows. He was speaking to an employee wearing an apron. Spam wandered to the doorway and listened.

          “I don’t care if it is hungry. You get rid of it. If you don’t I will. I’ll shoot it if I see it on my grounds again.” Marvin Mace growled at his employee.

         He then wheeled around and walked through the shattered doorway, across the crime scene, unconcerned that he may be disturbing valuable evidence. Spam noticed the employee hurry off with a small scruffy dog cradled in her arms. He approached Mace.

          “You got a problem with dogs?” Spam asked as Mace walked by.

          “I don’t see that it’s any business of yours, but yes I do, when they are trash.” Mace spoke and then looked intently at who was asking the question. “Who are you? You’re not one of the detectives, are you?”

          “Nope, I’m the guy that’s gonna get you five-hundred-thousand dollars. I work for the insurance company who will pay your claim.”

         Instantly, Mace's demeanor changed and a smile appeared on his face.

          “I see. Well, what can I do for you Mr.__?”

          “Hummer’s the name--Spam Hummer.”

          “Yes, Mr. Hummer. What can I do to help expedite my payment?”

          “Well, you can tell me who knew where that safe was? And, you can tell me who knew you had a bunch of rubies in there?”

          “I’m sure that I don’t know. And, what difference does it make? They’re gone. Why don’t you just tell that to your boss? In fact, I can assure you that it would be profitable, indeed if you would do it sooner than later.”

          “Oh really,” Spam’s eyebrow rose. “And just how profitable would that be?”

          “About ten-thousand dollars worth, I would think.”

          “I’ll keep that in mind.” Spam returned. “Do you mind if I walk around a little bit? You know, earn my money”

          “Not at all Mr. Hummer. Make yourself at home.”

         Spam milled about for a bit and then walked in the direction in which the unfortunate employee had retreated. Around the corner of the house he found an open door. A stray mongrel ate out of the china plate just inside the door. He walked into a substantial kitchen.

          “May I help you?” an overweight matron asked.

          “Do you work here?” Spam responded with a question of his own.

          “I’m the day cook. Who are you?”

          “Hummer, Spam Hummer. Is this your dog?”

          “No, he’s just a mutt that wandered up one morning. I’ve been feeding him scraps. He’s a cute little fellow, but his days are numbered around here. And, if I don’t get rid of him, I’m afraid mine are too.”

          “Yeah, I heard what Mace said to you. Seems as if you’re gonna have to find the little fellow a home.”

          “Brute!—he’s such a calloused brute. He spends days at a time on hunting trips for the purpose of killing animals. He’s just had a freezer of venison dressed and delivered this week. In fact, I’m feeding the little fellow some of Mace’s prime venison right now. He’d have a cow if he knew it.”

          “Venison for the dog. That’s pretty fine fare for a mutt.”

         The day-cook grinned, “Isn’t it though? It’s a special package that Mace wrapped up just last night. He thought he tucked it back deep in the freezer. But I found it and thawed it out this morning.” The day cook snickered as she continued, “I turned his prime venison into dog food.”

          “So, Mace was here last night?” Spam asked.

          “Certainly was. He met with those Spanish speaking fellows. He meets with them regularly—every Thursday night. He gives them some of that expensive meat he has packaged.”

          “Hey!” the day-cook’s eyes widened as she looked to Spam expectantly, “you wouldn’t be in the market for a dog, would ya?”

          “I’ve no use for a dog, sister.” Spam countered, and then he stopped in mid-thought, “but, I’ve got a girl that works for me who has a little boy who would love that dog. You looking for a home for him?”

          “You bet!” the day-cook grinned widely. “And I’ll even give you the rest of the packaged venison for his dinner tonight.”

          “You got a deal,” Spam agreed. “However, you can keep the meat; all I want is the dog. Keep him here and I’ll pick him up before I leave.”

          “Sure, there’s only a tad of meat left anyway.” Pleased with the solution to her problem, the day-cook’s face beamed.

         Spam concluded his snooping around the mansion. His last stop was by the kitchen. The day-cook had the dog sleeping peacefully in the corner of the kitchen. Spam conceded that he was a cute little pup as he picked him up to carry him to his car. Jerry, Cassidy’s son would be overjoyed. He just hoped his mother would be pleased.

         Spam put the pup in the floorboard of his car as he made his trip home. The drive gave him the opportunity to mull the case over in his mind. The break-in was just too convenient. The door to the room in which the safe was located, the disturbed books in the shelf in which the safe was located, and the opened safe--on top of this, Mace was not at all distressed with the burglary. He was more concerned with the presence of a stray dog than five-hundred-thousand dollars worth of rubies. Something did not add up; it seemed just too easy to Spam.

         Spam’s attention was diverted from his thoughts by an offensive aroma that flooded his sinuses. His forehead wrinkled with the foulness of the smell. As he looked around he noticed the pup in the floorboard looking at him with big round innocent eyes that said, “Hey, I couldn’t help it!”

         There in the floorboard of his car lay a dump of dog-waste.

          “Jeez! Give me a break!” Spam exclaimed as the pile carpet soaked up the offensive stuff with the x-rated odor. The dog whimpered and cowered in the corner under the dash.

         Spam shook his head and muttered, “I suppose it’s not your fault. Venison has the same effect on me. I just wish you’da waited until you were out of my car.”

         He pulled into a Magnolia gas station that loomed next to him on the street. He put the dog in the backseat, hoping that his business was done at least until he got home. He pulled a couple of paper towels from the dispenser at the gas island and proceeded to pick up the residue that lay deposited in his floorboard. As Spam picked the waste up, he noticed that it felt strange. Strange compared to what, he was not sure—just strange. He examined the waste held in the towel. Partially covered with waste, he could see a round red pellet. Spam’s heart jumped to his throat. Could it be the rubies? As disgusting as it seemed, he placed the waste in his hand and gently sprayed water from the water hose into his hand. As the residue of the poop washed away, a polished red ruby lay in the palm of his hand.



         Spam walked into the office. Cassidy greeted him warmly when she saw the pup in his hands.

          “Oh Spam, what a cute little fellow!”

         ”Do you like him?”

         Cassidy gushed, “I think he’s just darling.”

          “Well, he’s yours—or rather he’s Jerry’s.” Spam announced and then very purposefully continued. “Cassidy, this is important. You need to watch the little fellow when he does his business. It may sound strange, but check his deposits. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

         Cassidy grinned at Spam, “that’s the strangest thing you’ve ever said. You’ve gotta be kidding.”

          “It’s no joke Cassidy. Just watch the little fellow for the next few hours. Now, go on home. Take Jerry his new dog.”

          “Sure, Spam. Whatever you say. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

         Spam smiled at Cassidy and thought, “I guess that depends on what comes out tonight.”

         Spam picked up the telephone and dialed the police department.

          “Hello, Dave? .... How’s the Mace case coming? .... Out of leads, huh? .... Don’t ask me how I got this information. But get some men over there right now. Have them check out the venison in the freezer. I think you’ll find something very interesting. And you might want to be over there next Thursday night and talk to some visitors that Mace has on a regular basis. I don’t know quite what the connection is, but I think they may have friends in Colombia .... Sure, Dave, we’ll have to have dinner some night. Catch you later.”

         Spam rolled the red ruby in the palm of his hand. He’d never seen twenty-five thousand dollars roll around before. He considered the twenty-five thousand that the insurance company would pay him for their savings on the claim, which was a total of fifty-thousand dollars. And, if he were not mistaken, Cassidy would be collecting Jerry’s college education a little bit later in the evening. Not a bad day’s work—not bad at all.