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February 17th Operative No. 40. Yminoh - No exception – (out – Charcoal Goods razor)
There was a sharp rap on the door to Sam Spade’s office, the door opened and a telegram boy stepped inside, his eyes scanned the room, settling on Effie “Telegram for Mr. Sam Spade”. Effie reached out her hand and took the telegram; giving him a good tip from a jar on her desk. After he had left she took it to Sam. He opened it quickly, scanning it “Damn! This is from Boston. The train arrived, but no Operative Somnos. When he inquired at the station it seems that he did board the train, but must have disembarked during the night at one of the stops. Wonder what’s going on.” Effie shook her head, with a worried look on her face. “What are you going to do Sam?” He scratched his chin for a few seconds “lets send Operative Yminoh over to Somnos’s room and give it a looking over. Perhaps he can find a clue as to what he may have been working on before I sent him to Boston”.
Operative Yminoh paused at the steps leading up to the brownstone. He stooped and pretended to check his shoelaces, and gave a quick glace around him. Noting nothing out of place he quickly made his way up the steps, ignored the buzzers and in a few seconds picked the lock. He made his up the stairs to the third landing, pausing to listen, finally hearing nothing he went to Somnos’s door. He tried the handle, and then picked it also. He quickly let himself in and closed the door gently behind him, locking it. The room was well kept, but sparse, light came through the two windows. He walked around to see if anything looked out of place. He stopped and scratched head thinking where to start. The desk, start there, then the nightstands, followed by bureaus, and finally coat and jacket pockets in the closet. Over an hour later a quiet cry of “Eureka!” could be heard coming from the bedroom closet. Operative Yminoh stepped out with a creased piece of paper in his hand. He stared at it for a bit, then picked up the phone receiver and jingled the hook “Operator? Get me Sam Spade’s office please” A few seconds passed, then is a quiet voice “Hello? Sam? This is Operative Yminoh. I have been going through Operative Somnos’s room. There is not much here, must have taken his notebook with him. I did find this folded piece of paper in a suit coat pocket, it looks like his writing, and it has only three words on it mother shark pool. Not sure what it means, was he working on a fish store or one of those fish museums?” He listened for a few seconds “Okay Sam, will go look it up in the phone book, and local library. Will report back to after wards”.
Late in the afternoon Sam Spade leaned back in his chair and stretched. He reached down and pulled open a drawer, taking out a fifth of whiskey; pouring some into a coffee mug on his desk. Leaning back he sipped pondering his next move. The door opened and Effie looked in “Operative Yminoh to report in” “Send him in Effie, and come in to take notes”. After they were all settled, Operative Yminoh began “First I went to the phone company seeing if there were any fish mongers in the neighbourhood, there were four. I visited them, but none carried any shark. Must say I got a lot of strange looks from the owners. Then I hit the library. There are no fish museums around here, and then the lady there thought I should try aquariums, but that also proved a dead end. I’m stumped”. Silence filled the room as they all pondered the problem, what did mother shark pool mean? Operative Yminoh walked over to the window, dusk was setting in and he stared out into the busy street “All those people down there cueing up for uncomfortable and crowed ride home”. “Cueing up!, cue, that’s it!” Sam hit the desk with his hand “Mothers Pool Emporium, it is on 22nd street. I have been there a few times for a game or two with some old buddies. Neat joint, and it is run by a tall wiry man they call The Shark, a topnotch pool player. Never seen him loose. Go there tonight and see what you can find out”.
Operative Yminoh, paused outside the door, looking up at the gibbous moon, he gave himself a shake, opened the door and stepped in. Mothers Pool Emporium was a large place, the outside gave little indication of the place. It was a large L-shaped room, hazy with tobacco smoke and the sound of many muffled conversations. There were about a dozen people playing pool, smoking and drinking. He made his way to the side and hung up his coat, taking his cue out of its case. He wandered the room trying to pick up any interesting tidbits of conversations. Nothing, …. Trying to think, what is his best plan of action? “You always wander around in a daze?” He gave his head a shake and looked to his left. A Beautiful woman hold a tray was smiling at him. He smiled back “No, no not at all; just figuring out if I want a drink from a beautiful lady before or after playing a game.” “I would say before, it will help you loosen up and relax, you look rather tense.” He followed the waitress to a space at the bar “Gimlet please.” He looked around the corner of the pool hall that housed the bar; there was a large advertisement that had been framed and set behind a glass piece. He stepped closer to read it: Charcoal Goods – Kingsford: it doesn’t get any better; it showed a backyard with a brick barbecue and a happy family enjoying a grilled meal. “Are you a grilling man or a pool player, or perhaps both?” Operative Yminoh turned at the sound of the authoritative voice behind him. He saw a tall man with a powerful build and sharp facial features. “I am the owner of this establishment, name is Wilson, Gus Wilson. Some call me The Shark”; come from a long line of pool players”. Operative Yminoh shook hands with The Shark. “Please to meet you, fine looking place you have here”. The Shark smiled “Shall we have a game?” Operative Yminoh smiled and shook his head “No thank, perhaps another time. I am not going to waste your valuable time.” Operative Yminoh finished his drink at the bar, then turned and surveyed the room, he picked up his cue and wandered to the far corner, there was an empty table, and he figured this was a good time to sharpen up his game. He had played a few games by himself when the waitress came by wither tray. “Thought you might be getting thirsty, so I bought you a fresh Gimlet” She smiled at him “Bottoms up”. Operative Yminoh finished the drink quickly, and put the glass down, and started to rack the balls. The waitress stepped back and watched as Operative Yminoh leaned over to break, he drew back ready to shoot, paused …. the cue slide across the table as he collapsed. She gave a signal, and two men came to “help” Yminoh up and then they carried him to the back room. There was a chair and they sat him down. Operative Yminoh stared out in a stupor, the Shark came in and sat behind a desk, and he held a telegram in his hands “You are a bit late it seems. The Gillette brothers sent me a telegram warning me to except someone to come snooping around. Well you know what happens to people who stick their pointy noises in other people’s business? They end up down the chute.” He raised his hand and the two burly helpers came and lifted Yminoh to his feet. They walked/carried him to the wall, there was another framed “Charcoal Goods poster on the wall. One of them reached out and swung the picture frame upwards; and section of wall opened up, reveling a crude metal chute disappearing into the darkness. A foul wet smell reached Yminoh’s nostrils. The two then proceeded to man-handled him into the chute, and then let go. Operative Yminoh disappeared from sight, after a few seconds a splash was heard from the depths. The Charcoal Goods picture was moved again, and the opening closed up.
There was a sharp rap on the door to Sam Spade’s office, the door opened and a telegram boy stepped inside, his eyes scanned the room, settling on Effie “Telegram for Mr. Sam Spade”. Effie reached out her hand and took the telegram; giving him a good tip from a jar on her desk. After he had left she took it to Sam. He opened it quickly, scanning it “Damn! This is from Boston. The train arrived, but no Operative Somnos. When he inquired at the station it seems that he did board the train, but must have disembarked during the night at one of the stops. Wonder what’s going on.” Effie shook her head, with a worried look on her face. “What are you going to do Sam?” He scratched his chin for a few seconds “lets send Operative Yminoh over to Somnos’s room and give it a looking over. Perhaps he can find a clue as to what he may have been working on before I sent him to Boston”.
Operative Yminoh paused at the steps leading up to the brownstone. He stooped and pretended to check his shoelaces, and gave a quick glace around him. Noting nothing out of place he quickly made his way up the steps, ignored the buzzers and in a few seconds picked the lock. He made his up the stairs to the third landing, pausing to listen, finally hearing nothing he went to Somnos’s door. He tried the handle, and then picked it also. He quickly let himself in and closed the door gently behind him, locking it. The room was well kept, but sparse, light came through the two windows. He walked around to see if anything looked out of place. He stopped and scratched head thinking where to start. The desk, start there, then the nightstands, followed by bureaus, and finally coat and jacket pockets in the closet. Over an hour later a quiet cry of “Eureka!” could be heard coming from the bedroom closet. Operative Yminoh stepped out with a creased piece of paper in his hand. He stared at it for a bit, then picked up the phone receiver and jingled the hook “Operator? Get me Sam Spade’s office please” A few seconds passed, then is a quiet voice “Hello? Sam? This is Operative Yminoh. I have been going through Operative Somnos’s room. There is not much here, must have taken his notebook with him. I did find this folded piece of paper in a suit coat pocket, it looks like his writing, and it has only three words on it mother shark pool. Not sure what it means, was he working on a fish store or one of those fish museums?” He listened for a few seconds “Okay Sam, will go look it up in the phone book, and local library. Will report back to after wards”.
Late in the afternoon Sam Spade leaned back in his chair and stretched. He reached down and pulled open a drawer, taking out a fifth of whiskey; pouring some into a coffee mug on his desk. Leaning back he sipped pondering his next move. The door opened and Effie looked in “Operative Yminoh to report in” “Send him in Effie, and come in to take notes”. After they were all settled, Operative Yminoh began “First I went to the phone company seeing if there were any fish mongers in the neighbourhood, there were four. I visited them, but none carried any shark. Must say I got a lot of strange looks from the owners. Then I hit the library. There are no fish museums around here, and then the lady there thought I should try aquariums, but that also proved a dead end. I’m stumped”. Silence filled the room as they all pondered the problem, what did mother shark pool mean? Operative Yminoh walked over to the window, dusk was setting in and he stared out into the busy street “All those people down there cueing up for uncomfortable and crowed ride home”. “Cueing up!, cue, that’s it!” Sam hit the desk with his hand “Mothers Pool Emporium, it is on 22nd street. I have been there a few times for a game or two with some old buddies. Neat joint, and it is run by a tall wiry man they call The Shark, a topnotch pool player. Never seen him loose. Go there tonight and see what you can find out”.
Operative Yminoh, paused outside the door, looking up at the gibbous moon, he gave himself a shake, opened the door and stepped in. Mothers Pool Emporium was a large place, the outside gave little indication of the place. It was a large L-shaped room, hazy with tobacco smoke and the sound of many muffled conversations. There were about a dozen people playing pool, smoking and drinking. He made his way to the side and hung up his coat, taking his cue out of its case. He wandered the room trying to pick up any interesting tidbits of conversations. Nothing, …. Trying to think, what is his best plan of action? “You always wander around in a daze?” He gave his head a shake and looked to his left. A Beautiful woman hold a tray was smiling at him. He smiled back “No, no not at all; just figuring out if I want a drink from a beautiful lady before or after playing a game.” “I would say before, it will help you loosen up and relax, you look rather tense.” He followed the waitress to a space at the bar “Gimlet please.” He looked around the corner of the pool hall that housed the bar; there was a large advertisement that had been framed and set behind a glass piece. He stepped closer to read it: Charcoal Goods – Kingsford: it doesn’t get any better; it showed a backyard with a brick barbecue and a happy family enjoying a grilled meal. “Are you a grilling man or a pool player, or perhaps both?” Operative Yminoh turned at the sound of the authoritative voice behind him. He saw a tall man with a powerful build and sharp facial features. “I am the owner of this establishment, name is Wilson, Gus Wilson. Some call me The Shark”; come from a long line of pool players”. Operative Yminoh shook hands with The Shark. “Please to meet you, fine looking place you have here”. The Shark smiled “Shall we have a game?” Operative Yminoh smiled and shook his head “No thank, perhaps another time. I am not going to waste your valuable time.” Operative Yminoh finished his drink at the bar, then turned and surveyed the room, he picked up his cue and wandered to the far corner, there was an empty table, and he figured this was a good time to sharpen up his game. He had played a few games by himself when the waitress came by wither tray. “Thought you might be getting thirsty, so I bought you a fresh Gimlet” She smiled at him “Bottoms up”. Operative Yminoh finished the drink quickly, and put the glass down, and started to rack the balls. The waitress stepped back and watched as Operative Yminoh leaned over to break, he drew back ready to shoot, paused …. the cue slide across the table as he collapsed. She gave a signal, and two men came to “help” Yminoh up and then they carried him to the back room. There was a chair and they sat him down. Operative Yminoh stared out in a stupor, the Shark came in and sat behind a desk, and he held a telegram in his hands “You are a bit late it seems. The Gillette brothers sent me a telegram warning me to except someone to come snooping around. Well you know what happens to people who stick their pointy noises in other people’s business? They end up down the chute.” He raised his hand and the two burly helpers came and lifted Yminoh to his feet. They walked/carried him to the wall, there was another framed “Charcoal Goods poster on the wall. One of them reached out and swung the picture frame upwards; and section of wall opened up, reveling a crude metal chute disappearing into the darkness. A foul wet smell reached Yminoh’s nostrils. The two then proceeded to man-handled him into the chute, and then let go. Operative Yminoh disappeared from sight, after a few seconds a splash was heard from the depths. The Charcoal Goods picture was moved again, and the opening closed up.
Nice idea, but ....... nope. It is one specific personal exception.
