The Hollow Chocolate Bunnies of the Apocalypse
‘Tell me,’ said Eddie, ‘about where you come from. I’ve never met anyone who wasn’t brought up in this city.’
‘It isn’t much,’ said Jack. ‘It’s just a small township, supported by a factory. They make clockwork stuff there. I used to build …’ Jack drew Eddie closer.
‘What?’ asked Eddie.
‘Clockwork barmen,’ said Jack. ‘Like Tinto. They said, “Howdy doody friend, what’ll it be?” But that’s all they said. They didn’t talk like Tinto.’
‘So you know all about clockwork?’
‘You’ve seen my clockwork pistol. I designed and built it myself. It’s not quite as accurate as it’s supposed to be, though.’
‘But you do know all about clockwork?’
‘Pretty much all. But working in the factory nearly did for me. We were like slaves in there. I hated it. The sun used to beat down on us through the glass roof. And when the sun was at its highest, there was this bit of glass in the roof that was convex, like a lens, see, and at midday the sun would come through that and really burn me badly. I’ll never forget it as long as I live. I had to get away. So I ran. I’d heard that there was wealth to be had in the city, so I came here to seek my fortune.’
‘Pooh,’ said Eddie. ‘Sounds like you had a pretty rough time. You did the right thing running away.’
‘I didn’t have a lot of choice really. There was some unpleasantness; I don’t want to go into that now.’
‘That’s okay with me. Your own business is your own business. So you’ve come here seeking work?’
‘In a manner of speaking.’
‘I could offer you work.’
‘You?’
‘Me,’ said Eddie. ‘I need a partner, I told you.’
‘But you’re Bill’s bear.’
‘And he’s not here and while he’s gone, I need a partner. I can do the thinking. But I can’t do the hand working and I can’t do the questioning and the driving around and …’
‘The driving around?’ said Jack.
‘Bill left without his car and …’
‘Car,’ said Jack. ‘What kind of car?’
‘You know all about cars then, do you?’
‘If they’re clockwork cars. And what other kind of cars are there?’
‘None that I know of.’
‘I know all about them. I’ve helped build them.’
‘But you’ve never actually driven one?’
‘Well, one. But there was some unpleasantness, which I don’t want to talk about either.’
‘Well, Bill has one and it’s standing in the garage. But I need a partner to do all the stuff that he could do and I can’t.’
‘Because of the status quo?’
‘Exactly. If we solve the case, there’ll be gold in it for you.’
‘If we solve it?’
‘When I solve it. Which I will.’
‘So I get to drive you around and play the part of Bill Winkie, is that what you’re suggesting?’
‘In essence, yes.’
‘Then I’m up for it,’ said Jack. ‘I’ll do it.’
‘Brilliant,’ said Eddie. ‘Then we’re partners. Put it there,’ and he stuck out his paw.
Jack took it between his hands and shook it.
‘Partners,’ he said.
‘That’s as brilliant as,’ said Eddie, withdrawing his paw and employing it, with its fellow, to take up his glass once again.
‘To partners and success,’ he said.
‘I’ll join you in that,’ said Jack. ‘Cheers.’
‘Cheers.’ The two drank once again, drained their glasses and ordered further beers.
‘So,’ said Jack, ‘tell me about the case that you are going to solve.’
‘It’s a pretty big number,’ said Eddie. ‘Prominent member of society brutally slain.’
‘That’s a job for the police, surely?’
‘Surely,’ said Eddie. ‘And I’m sure they’re doing their best to track down the murderer.’
‘I detect a certain tone in your voice,’ said Jack. ‘One that suggests to me that you’re not altogether convinced that the police will—’
‘Exactly,’ said Eddie. ‘You’re most astute. Bill received a cash-up-front advance from an anonymous source to take on the case. It was a great deal of cash. Enough to retire on, really. Bill has a lot of debts. He gambles a great deal and runs up big bar bills. And cleaning bills; he’s very fastidious. Likes a clean trenchcoat, does Bill.’
‘Er, just one question,’ said Jack. ‘Before Bill … er … went away, did he pay off his debts?’
‘Not that I know of,’ said Eddie. ‘I’m sure he will when he comes back, though.’
‘And he left, taking the big cash advance with him?’
Eddie nodded.
‘Ah,’ said Jack.
‘Ah?’ said Eddie.
‘Nothing,’ said Jack. ‘You’re pretty fond of Bill, aren’t you?’
‘I’m Bill’s bear. I have been since he was a child.’
‘So you trust him?’
‘Of course, why do you ask me that?’
‘Oh, no reason really.’ Jack applied himself to his beer. ‘So you’d like the case solved for him before he gets back from his holiday, or whatever?’
‘That’s it,’ said Eddie. ‘There’s the promise of much more money, when the case gets solved.’
‘And you think that you can trust this anonymous benefactor to pay up when the case is solved?’
‘Why wouldn’t I?’ asked Eddie.
‘You’re a very trusting little bear.’
‘Don’t patronise me,’ said Eddie.
‘Sorry,’ said Jack. ‘Did Bill leave you any money?’
Eddie shook his head. ‘And the rent on the office is overdue. I’d like to get this case solved pretty quickly.’
‘All right,’ said Jack. ‘I’ll help you out. I’ll be your hands and do all the stuff you want. Especially the car driving. I’m up for it.’ Jack patted Eddie on the head.
‘Jack,’ said Eddie.
‘Eddie?’ said Jack.
‘Pat me on the head like that again and I’ll butt you right in the balls.’
‘Sorry,’ said Jack, withdrawing his patting hand.
‘I know what you’re thinking,’ said Eddie. ‘You’re thinking that Bill has absconded with the advance money, leaving the silly little bear to deal with the case. That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it?’
‘Of course not,’ said Jack.
‘Then you are a complete gormster,’ said Eddie. ‘Because that’s what’s happened.’
‘Oh,’ said Jack. ‘Then you …’
‘Of course I know. But I don’t care. Solving the case is all that matters to me. Applying the sawdust in my head to finding the solution. Proving to myself that I can do it, even if I never get the credit. Can you understand that, Jack?’
‘Not really.’ Jack shook his head.
‘Then it’s too subtle for you. But it’s what I do and who I am. You’ll get paid, you’ll do well out of this, if you join me.’
‘I will join you,’ said Jack. ‘I’ve said I will. And we’ve shaken hand and paw and we’re partners.’
‘Good,’ said Eddie. ‘But just as long as we understand each other. I have the measure of you, Jack. But you’ll never have the measure of me.’
‘If you say so.’
‘I do. Drink up, and I’ll buy you another.’
‘I’m beginning to feel rather drunk,’ said Jack. ‘And on such small glasses of beer too.’
‘The youth of today has no staying power.’
‘I’ll survive,’ said Jack. ‘I might throw up a bit later, but I’ll survive.’
‘I’ll throw up with you; let’s drink.’ Eddie ordered more beer. ‘We’ll make a great team,’ he told Jack.
‘I’m sure we will.’ Jack raised his glass and drank, spilling much of what little beer there was down his chin.
‘We have so much in common,’ said
Eddie, doing likewise.
‘This case.’ Jack replaced his glass upon the bar, with some small degree of difficulty. ‘This prominent member of society who got murdered, tell me about him.’
‘Fat sod,’ said Eddie. ‘Big fat sod. Someone boiled him.’
‘Boiled him?’
‘Alive in his swimming pool. Heated the water to boiling point and pushed him in, or something like.’
‘Fiendish,’ said Jack.
‘That’s my opinion,’ said Eddie. ‘And I think there’s some kind of cover-up. The papers are even suggesting that it was suicide.’
‘Suicide? In a boiling swimming pool?’
‘The papers are putting it about that he tried to commit suicide once before.’
‘And did he?’
‘Not in my opinion. He fell.’
‘Fell?’
‘Off a high wall. Broke half the bones in his body. There was a regiment of soldiers passing at the time, but they couldn’t resuscitate him. Paramedics patched him up, though. They were conveniently close.’
‘Come again?’ said Jack.
‘It was big news at the time. There was a song written about it. He was nothing before that song, but he got rich from the royalties. Because he wrote it himself.’
‘Eh?’ said Jack.
‘Scam,’ said Eddie. ‘The whole thing was a set-up.’
‘I’m lost,’ said Jack. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’
‘But I bet you know the murder victim.’
‘How could I? I’m new to this city.’
‘You’ll have heard of him. You’ll even have sung about him falling off that wall.’
‘I don’t think that’s very likely,’ said Jack.
‘Oh, I think you’ll find that it is,’ said Eddie. ‘His name was Humpty Dumpty.’
5
Jack awoke to find himself in strange surroundings. As this was now becoming a regular habit, rather than a novelty, he merely groaned and blinked, rolled onto his belly and eased himself up on his knees.
He was in an office, a definite improvement on the death pit or the alleyway, but hardly the five star accommodation he’d been hoping for when first he entered the city. The words ‘how did I get here?’ came almost to his lips, but he withheld them. He had vague recollections of the latter part of his night out with Eddie. It had involved much beer, and later, much vomiting. Then there had been much staggering along streets, much climbing of stairs and then much floor and much oblivion.
Jack stretched himself, fretted at the clicking of his joints, ran gentle fingers over his pulsating forehead and said ‘never again’ in a whispery kind of a voice.
Underage drinking. Jack shook his head and regretted the doing thereof. Where was the pleasure in underage drinking? Jack tried to recall the pleasure.
It wasn’t easy.
‘Still,’ whispered Jack, ‘you have to keep at it. Overcome the miseries of the vomiting and the whirling pit. Pay your dues and work towards the real rewards of big-time adult drinking. Something to look forward to.’
Jack’s knees buckled under him.
For now he needed a quiet sit-down.
Jack gave his surroundings a bleary perusal and took in what he could of them. An office, that was for certain. And yes, he recalled, the office of the now legendary Bill Winkie, fictional detective. Jack sniffed at the office. It didn’t smell too good: musty and fusty and tainted by the smoke of many cigarettes.
But, for all of its overloaded atmospherics, here was an office that owned to a certain ‘lack’.
There was a hatstand that lacked a hat to stand on it and a water cooler that lacked anything to cool. The filing cabinet lacked a bottom drawer and the desk, lacking a leg, was being supported at that corner by a large alphabet house brick (lacking a corner).
Jack eased himself carefully around the desk and settled down onto the chair that stood behind it. The chair lacked comfort. Jack turned gently around on it to face a window that lacked a pane of glass. He turned back, took in a ceiling fan that lacked a blade and a carpet that lacked a pattern.
Jack turned once more towards the window and raised his eyes, which pained him no little bit.
A Venetian blind, no doubt lacking a slat or two, was fastened in the up position. But, strung to the cord at ceiling height and dangling by the neck, was Eddie Bear.
‘Oh no!’ cried Jack, leaping from the chair and shinning onto the desk.
The desk that lacked a leg had a top that lacked support. It gave with a hideous crack and Jack fell through it.
He was only slightly dazed this time and his eyes soon reopened to find a big round face looming at him once again.
‘What did you do that for?’ asked Eddie. ‘The guvnor will be very upset when he returns to see what you’ve done to his antique desk.’
‘You were trying to hang yourself.’ Jack beat away bits of desk, getting splinters in his fingers. ‘I was saving you.’
‘Ah,’ said Eddie, de-looming his face. ‘Ah no. I was sobering up. I hang myself in the upright position, then rely on natural seepage, through the feet. Stone cold sober again. Doesn’t work for you meat-heads though, does it?’
‘You might at least say sorry.’
‘Why? I didn’t break the desk.’
‘Oh, never mind.’ Jack climbed once more to his feet. ‘I have such a hangover,’ he said. And, looking up once more, ‘How did you manage to climb up that cord in the first place?’
‘Practice,’ said Eddie. ‘You need a drink.’
‘No, I need breakfast. And the toilet.’
‘The joys of the human digestive system. You should have a drink, though. Bill’s hangover cure. His own special concoction. There’s some in the desk drawer. Well, what’s left of it.’
Jack rootled about in the desk drawers and finally unearthed a sinister-looking green bottle.
‘That’s the kiddie,’ said Eddie. ‘You have a swig of that.’
Sighing and muttering by turn, Jack uncorked the bottle, sniffed at the contents, made a face of displeasure, then took a swig.
He looked at Eddie and Eddie looked at him.
‘It takes a minute or two,’ said the bear. ‘I’d sit back down, if I were you.’
Jack sat back down. ‘Would you say that I had a good time last night?’ he asked.
‘Certainly,’ said the bear. ‘You had a good time last night.’
‘Did I? Really?’
‘No,’ said Eddie. ‘Of course you didn’t.’
‘Then why did you say that I did?’
‘Because you asked me to. What a strange young man you are.’
‘I’m seriously thinking of going home.’ Jack rubbed at his forehead. ‘I don’t think city life agrees with me.’
‘It doesn’t agree with most folk.’ Eddie sat down at Jack’s feet. ‘But then, if you’re poor, what kind of life does?’
‘I came here to seek my fortune.’
‘Then I hope you’ll share some of it with me when you do. I ran up a bit of a bar tab at Tinto’s last night. He wrote it down, in case he forgot about it.’
‘Humpty Dumpty,’ said Jack, and he groaned as he said it.
‘Fat and dead.’ Eddie plucked bits of fluff off himself. ‘In that order.’
‘No. Humpty Dumpty. That was why I got so drunk.’
‘And there was me thinking that it was all the beer you consumed that was to blame.’
‘He was the reason behind all the beer. A nursery rhyme character.’
‘Ah,’ said Eddie, once more. ‘They don’t like that term. They prefer “Preadolescent Poetic Personalities”.’
‘They? That’s right, I remember. Miss Muffet, Georgie Porgie, Jack and Jill, the whole sick crew. They’re all real people, according to you, and they all live here in the city.’
‘They have to live somewhere.’
‘Not if they don’t exist.’
‘Please don’t start all that again, Jack. You went on and on about
that last night. “They’re not real.” “Why not?” “Because I say so.” Your conversation became extremely tedious. And very slurred.’
‘Agh! Oooh! Ow! Urgh!’
‘That’s easy for you to say.’
‘Aaaaaagh!’ Jack clutched at his stomach and fell forward onto Eddie.
‘Get off me.’ Eddie flapped about. ‘You’ll have my seams bursting, get off.’
Jack got off. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘but I feel …’
‘How do you feel?’
‘Actually,’ Jack looked all around and about, ‘actually, I feel excellent. In the very best of health.’
‘Bill’s lotion, works every time.’
‘Lotion? Don’t you rub lotion on?’
‘Do you? Well, it’s all the same, it worked, didn’t it?’
‘Yes, it did.’ Jack took up Eddie and set him upon the ruins of the desk. ‘I’d like some breakfast,’ he said. ‘And I still need the toilet.’
‘Okey doke,’ Eddie grinned. ‘But we’re still partners, right? You’ll help me solve the case? Be my hands, and whatnots?’
‘Whatnots?’
‘We’ll not debase our conversation with cheap innuendo, will we, Jack?’
‘Certainly not.’ Jack had a big smile on. ‘I’ll give it a go. I’ll help you solve your case, mad as it is. I keep my word. We shook hand and paw and we’re partners.’
‘Jolly good, now help me down, please.’
Jack helped Eddie down.
‘I want to visit the crime scene,’ said the bear. ‘I haven’t been able to thus far. The authorities won’t give clearance to a teddy. But you’ll be able to bluff us in, I feel confident of that.’
‘I’m not sure that I do,’ said Jack.
‘Well I am, because I’ll tell you what to say. Now, you did tell me that you could actually drive a car, didn’t you?’
‘In theory,’ said Jack.
‘Well, theory and practice are not too far removed. Come on, I’ll show you Bill’s car. But first we need to clean you up. Get all that blue dye off your face. You smell rank and you could do with a change of clothing and some shoes. I’ll kit you out from Bill’s wardrobe.’
‘So I can play the part of Bill Winkie.’
‘So you can be Bill Winkie. Men all look the same to toys. You’ll be able to carry it off.’