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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1953784-the-strange-illness-of-dan-mame
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Detective · #1953784
tongue in cheek detective story
Note: The people and events in this story are basically all imaginary; and any references to any people or events are strictly intended.

                             The Strange Illness of Dan Mame

I was counting the ones in my wallet when a heavy pounding on my office door startled me out of my financial doldrums.

"The door's open," I said.

What I saw walk in didn't register dollar signs in my mind, and I had a sinking feeling I was going to have to choose between breakfast or a bottle of bourbon.

"Are you Joe Closusou?"

I acknowledged I was.

He was a big man, about thirty five years old. He had a wrestler's body that probably quit wrestling after high school. Not fat; but he'd have a hard time doing five sit-ups. He had curly black hair receding slightly at his temples. His face was as chalky as a birch tree, and beads of sweat grew out of his forehead like condensing water on a cold toilet. The hand he offered me was a rough as Lava soap and shook like a telegraph operator.

"You look like you could use a drink," I said.

I reached into my desk drawer and pulled out the last of my bourbon bottles I kept for special occasions, like breakfast. I poured a shot into a dirty glass and offered it to him. He had to hold it with both hands, but when it went down, the color in his face rushed back like ketchup plopping on a piece of white bread.

"My name's Dan Mame," he said in a rush. "You gotta help me Closusou. Someone is trying to kill me."

"Do you know who or why?" I asked.

"No."

"What makes you think someone is after you? Did you receive any threats?"

"No, but something is happening to me. Something's inside me, eating me alive.

I've seen hundreds like this guy. They feel a shrink or a doctor would cost a fortune, so they bring their troubles to me. I said, "Mr. Mame, I don't think you need a detective. Maybe you should see a doctor."

"I've seen plenty of doctors, he replied. They all say there is nothing wrong with me. I had brain scans, spinal taps, and bone marrow scrapes. I need a transfusion from all blood tests I've had. And they can't find a thing. But in the night, I get a burning fever in my heart and I can't sleep. In the morning, I'm soaked, and when I weigh myself...I used to weigh 280 pounds, and now look at me!"

I was looking. I couldn't see how he could go for any less than 270, but I said, "Yeah, you do look a little thin. What exactly do you want me to do, Mr. Mame?"

"I want you to find out who is doing this to me. I want you to make them stop".

I nodded sagely. The dollar signs were plugged back in and were flashing wildly.

"I charge $300 a day plus expenses, and you're not giving me much to go on. It might run you into a couple of thousands."

"I can swing it, he said. I have 350 unused sick days I can cash in."

"I think you better save a few-just in case," I said. "I'm above average, but I'm not batting a thousand. What I'm trying to tell you: I may not be able to help you."

His forehead suddenly began to rain again, filling in his deep furrows then dripping off the roofs of his eyelids. Before I could catch him, he pitched straight backwards and hit his head on the tiled floor. I checked his pulse, and then I checked his wallet. He had about a thousand dollars. I took out six hundred and stuck in a receipt. I couldn't afford to pass up a client, even if he was a little crazy. Besides, I kind of liked the guy. I noted his home address from his driver's license and then I called an ambulance.







                                                           II

Mame lived in a suburban area of circles and courts and cape-cod houses. I pulled up next to a mailbox with Mame's name on it. A woman, around Mame's age opened the door when I rang. She was wearing a scarlet red negligee that had a deep V-lace styling in the front and back. It was cleverly designed with a sewn in G-strap in the back that was crouch-less in the front. She was braless, and her taut brown nipples bounced against the sheer lace like two June bugs bouncing against a window screen.

"Are you the detective my husband went to see?"

I told her I was. She moved her crouch-less lips and I heard a familiar sigh. I glanced quickly around until I realized it was me.

"Where is my husband?"

"I'm afraid he is back in the hospital. He fainted in my office."

"Oh, I see. You had better come in then." She offered.

"Don't you think you should put something on? Not that I mind though."

"Don't you like my outfit Mr.?"

"Closusou. Joe Closusou. Yes I like it very much. It's very titillating."

"I think so too whatever that means", she said.

It was apparent that she expecting someone else. Not her husband either. You don't dress like that when the only thing your husband can get up is his fever.

"Can I get you a beer, or something?"She asked.

"No thanks. I don't tipple on the job."

She sat down on a multifloral sofa with three cushions. She patted the cushion beside her, but I sat across from her to enjoy the scenery. She must have felt a draft and crossed her legs. Since that avenue was closed, I took a detour to her face. She had a nice face, with lips as thin as razor blades. She had a Hershey-kiss nose with a melted tip, high flushed cheek bones, and deep verdant eyes.

"Mrs. Mame."

"Call me Linda. Can I call you Joe, Joe?"

"Mrs. Mame, do you recall what your husband was doing the night he became ill?"

She seemed a little put off by my formalness. Her frowns made lines across her prettiness, and I saw hardness beneath the transparent cover of her sexuality.

"It was two Fridays ago. He went bowling with his friends."

"Do you know their names?"

"Yes, Rich Zielinski and Bob Wagwag. They both live right on the circle."

"Did you notice anything strange about your husband?"

"No. Just that he was drunk as usual."

"What time did he come in?"

"About one A.M... Look Joe. I have other things to do; I can't entertain questions all day."

I got up and walked to the door. "Don't you think you should call about your husband?"

"Like I said, I have other things to do."

Her indifference to her husband's condition got to me. The comeback came out before I could bite it off. "Like screw your new lover?" I stepped out the door quickly and slammed it shut. I felt a thud on the other side and the clear titillating of broken glass.







                                                 III

Zielinski lived in a dark green aluminum framed house. It sat back from the street and seemed to blend in with the green of the grass and maple trees. It looked like a perpetual picnic area. Zielinski was standing at his screen door as I approached.

"Mr. Zielinski, I'm Joe Closusou. I'm investigating the strange illness of Dan Mame, and I'd like to ask you a few questions about the night he became ill. Mrs. Mame said he came home with you and Bob Wagwag."

He rubbed his chin up and down and said, "That's right. Bob was driving. They left me off first. Dan was clobbered. I think he was sleeping. I watched them drive up to Dan's, but I didn't see Dan get out. I was just getting ready to go inside when I saw Bob leading Dan into his house."

"Was Dan awake, then?"

"I think he was. He was holding his arm, rubbing it like he had hurt it."

"Did Bob go into the house with Dan?"

"Yeah, Linda was at the door."

"Do you remember the time?"

"It was about midnight."

"Are you sure it wasn't closer to one in the morning?"

"I'm positive. The alarm on my watch beeped and I looked at it. It was midnight alright."

He was still rubbing his chin when I drove off.







                                                 IV

Before I talked to Wagwag, I thought I better have a talk with Mame's doctor to at least find out what Dan did have. I drove out to Passavant Hospital a few miles away. On the drive over, I began to ponder the one hour discrepancy in Zielinski's story. Linda Mame had told me One A.M. You can do a lot of things in an hour, especially if your husband is passed out. I was hoping that Wagwag's wife, Debbie had watched the late movie that night.

The doctor I wanted to see was named Dr. Nuntonight. The head duty nurse had him paged to the front desk.

"Dr. Nuntonight, please report to the front desk."

It was a catchy name and it somehow reminded me of my ex-wife. The doctor appeared and I introduced myself.

"Dr. Nuntonight, do you have any idea what is ailing Dan?"

"Well sir, I thought he may have consumed some polluted stream water. You may have heard of the recent gas spill. Dan works at the Shaler Water Plant and he may have inadvertently swallowed the contaminant. However, he tested negative for minerals and..."

Just then a helicopter spraying fine grey dust flew barely twenty feet over our heads. "What are they doing, Doc?"

"They're spraying for gypsy moth infestment. This is the second time in as many weeks."

"Could the spray have caused the mysterious illness of Dan Mame?"

"Hardly, the dust is relatively harmless to humans. Besides, any reaction would have included nausea and vomiting. Come to think of it, I don't even think they sprayed in Shaler."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. I suppose you will have to ask the officials down at the Shaler Municipal Building."

I told him I'd do that and thanked him for his time.







                                                 V

The Shaler Municipal Building was located on a hill overlooking a densely wooded area that looked like the featured special on a gypsy moth menu. I couldn't find a parking place, so I pulled into the Commissioner's spot. He was probably out playing golf on some treeless green.

I was wrong. He was in his office making swimming pool tags out of recycled aluminum cans. I began to understand why Shaler wasn't spraying. He looked surprised when I walked in.

"We aren't hiring any more spreaders," he said.

"Commissioner, what is a spreader?" I told him who I was and that I was investigating the strange illness of Dan Mame.

"You a cop?" he asked.

"Close. Private Investigator. Do spreaders have anything to do with gypsy moths?" I asked.

"That's right. We decided rather than spray; we would spread parasitic nematodes over the area. The nematodes seek out caterpillars and grubs and devour them."

"Dr. Nuntonight at Passavant told me spraying was harmless to humans. Can you say the same about nematodes?" I inquired.

"If handled properly, there is no danger, but if they are physically induced into the blood stream, they could be fatal."

"Physically induced?"

"Yes, for example, two years ago, a careless spreader dumped a number of nematodes into a pond near a cow pasture. The nematodes got into the cows' blood stream when they drank from the pond. Within a month, every cow was dead. The nematodes ate their hearts out."

"Do you have the names of the spreaders?"

"They should be on the payroll vouchers in the Firm's folder," he said. He took the folder out and told me to have a look.

I wasn't sure what I'd find, but I wasn't surprised when I found a voucher made out to Bob Wagwag. I made a quick call to Wagwag's house. His wife was just leaving, but she remembered that her husband had come in well after one that Friday night. She was sure because she was watching "The Naked Gun" with Zielinski's wife. She couldn't understand why Bob was so late when he had to go on a wiring job the next day. I asked her if her husband was home and she said he was. I said that I would talk to him in person. I made one more phone call--to Dr. Nuntonight. I think I knew what was eating Dan.

                             

                                                 VI

I drove back to Wagwag's house. He was sitting under the shade of a crimson maple tree. I wondered if one of his side jobs paid for it. "Mr. Wagwag, you told your wife you had a wiring job two weeks ago. Instead, it seems you were spreading parasitic nematodes over Shaler."

"That was another side job. I forgot to tell her about it."

"Did you know that parasitic nematodes nearly wiped out the entire cow population of Ohio?" I slightly exaggerated what the Commissioner had told me.

"I didn't hear that. Why are you telling me that?"

"The nematodes got into the cows' blood stream and ate away their hearts."

His eyes registered surprise for a moment, and then they became hard and shifty. "So what." He spat.

"I think you injected parasitic nematodes into Dan Mame's arm that Friday night."

"Why would I do that?"

"Your wife told me you didn't come until after one. Zielinski went home at midnight. Where were you from midnight until one? I'll tell you where you were; with Linda Mame!" I gave him my most disgusted look. He returned it.

"Sex and nematodes don't mix, Wagwag." It makes for a toxic situation."

The phone rang. Wagwag picked it up. "It's for you", he said.

It was Dr. Nuntonight. He told me that he had found the nematodes in Dan's heart and that the damage was minimal. I wasn't so sure about the damage to his marriage especially when his wife finds out he can't have sex for six months.

I thanked the Doctor and hung up. I was happy that I wrote "no refunds" on Dan's receipt. I had only worked one day.

I was ready to leave. The case was closed. But I wanted to hurt Wagwag, bad. So I hit him hard in the gut. Then I kneed him somewhere below his waist so he'd get none tonight. I heard a strange growling noise. There were no dogs around and I suddenly realized that I hadn't eaten all day. I left in a hurry; to McDonalds.

Later that night, I bought a bottle of bourbon and watched "the Naked Gun" with Rich, Debbie, and Carmella. I couldn't stop laughing. We stayed up all night making up nematode jokes, and in the morning, I joined the bowling league in Bob's place.















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