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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2322234-Pearlescent
Rated: E · Fiction · Mystery · #2322234
Mrs. Codswell's pearl was just stolen. Who done it?
"The Behemoth Pearl is mine," Mrs. Codswell said. "My husband bought it from a merchant in Hong Kong." She flapped her ornate fan as she relayed the information.



The summer heat was more oppressive than I was used to. I had to wonder if the fan was indeed efficacious. The American south was so humid, the air was like drinking hot tea. Nothing like my native Edinburgh.



I took out my well worn notebook. The leather binding yielded easily to the leverage I applied with my thumbs. With my favorite fountain pen I began to record the interview with my client.



"Mrs. Codswell," I said. "Can you relate how your precious possession went missing?"



"It was about two weeks ago," she said. "I contacted you back then via telegraph. How come it took you so terribly long to get here, if I may inquire, Mr. McAllister?"



I was really missing my days with the Yard. If I hadn't been forced to resign my position, I wouldn't have needed to be a private consultant. I found it put me in touch with some positively dotty individuals.



"I assure you, I booked passage on the fastest steamer I could afford," I said. "If you wanted to get investigative services quicker, it would've behoved you to reach out to more local talent."



She contemptuously glared at me. "Well the local authorities are more concerned with what they call 'Preserving the Union'. My only other option would be that vile Yankee outfit, the Pinkerton Agency. It'll be a cold day in Hades before I have anything to do with them!"



I cleared my throat. "Madam," I said. "We are straying far from the point. If we want to arrive at the truth, we must find out when and where the Behemoth Pearl left your possession."



Mrs. Codswell snapped her fan shut, gripping it tightly in both her hands. She pursed her lips and gathered her composure before continuing her narrative.



"Very well, Mr. McCalister," she said. "I was at home two weeks ago. I'd just removed the Behemoth Pearl from the safe we store it in. We were hosting a gala at which we would reveal our oriental treasure to those in attendance.  I had set the pearl on the desk in m husband's study. No sooner had I turned my back than it was gone! Turned our evening into a complete catastrophe."



After her long winded explanation, Mrs. Codswell lapsed into silence.



In that moment Mr. Codswell burst into the room. "My dear," he said. "I have a confession! It was I who absconded with the Behemoth Pearl."



My client and I wore similar masks of astonishment. "Whatever for?" I asked.



"You see," Mr. Codswell said. "I recently discovered that the Pearl was complete hokum. I dropped the object on my toe when the Behemoth broke free from its dragon shaped filigree. It turned out to be far more dense than I expected. When I inspected the Behemoth pearl, I discovered it was merely a bowling ball painted white."



This was deteriorating fast. "I still don't understand," I said. "What does this discovery have to do with the, er, Behemoth's disappearance?"



"It's quite simple really," he said. "I wrapped the wretched thing in cloth and chucked it into the trash heap. If it had been discovered that the great Codswell family had been duped into buying such a foolish acquisition, our reputation. I couldn't have that happen. I trust, Mr. McCallister that you will not reveal this scandal to anyone?"



I moaned to myself. Any chance of being paid for this farcical case seemed to have evaporated in the face of this revelation.



"Of course," I said. "You have my word; I'll take this to my grave."



Dear reader, I do not count this retelling as a breach of my oath. Both Mrs and Mr. Codswell have long since died, therefore I kept my promise.



Word count: 650
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