Carrick found herself staring at the boots of the Royal Detective. He’d come to his current position after sneaking in the window at the back of the governor’s office, tripping over a fallen chair, and having the guard unceremoniously hurl him out the door, very neatly flying between the bright yellow sashes.
“And what have we here?” asked the large gargoyle. “Is this one of the perpetrators?” Carrick scrambled to her feet, only to find a large hand on her shoulder. That guard again. People shouldn’t be allowed to grow that big!
“No sir. This, sir, is one of the governor’s distant cousins or aunts or uncles or some such, sir. She was here earlier, trying to find out what happened to the governor sir. Shall I toss her in the clink, sir?”
“No, no. That will not be necessary. Her boots are too small. I have studied all the footprints around this building, and they were made by a much larger person. Almost your size, in fact. Slightly shorter, I’d estimate. Your boot prints are slightly deeper than theirs. And yours do not stink of cabbage.” The hand left Carrick’s shoulder. “Very good sir. I will continue to stand guard sir. Sir!” He saluted, turned, and stomped back to the doorway.
“So, as you may know, I am Saengkt Ver Beh, the Royal Detective. You, I surmise, must be Carrick McGee. Don’t look so surprised. I already researched the governor, all her relatives, her known habits, hobbies, and fetishes. You want to know what happened to her. Understandable. All we know so far is that she was kidnapped by a rather large individual, and that vegetables are involved. Also, judging by letters found in the office, certain individuals have been writing to the governor for over five years, complaining about a malady found in the nearby fields. All the letters were sent with fictitious names and addresses. Names like “Stompin Magrapes” or “Diggin Fields”. Not terribly imaginative. Not even for a human. “
“The footprints lead towards the ferry. I have already interrogated the ferryman. He remembers seeing a local character with an infamous reputation crossing with a large roll of carpet over his shoulder. Do not take action – I shall alert the Royal Guard, and we will approach this brigand in the manner he deserves.” Carrick nodded, and watched the gargoyle flap his way towards the moongate. “Don’t take action” he mused “Ha! You don’t know me, do you, Mr Beh?”
“And what have we here?” asked the large gargoyle. “Is this one of the perpetrators?” Carrick scrambled to her feet, only to find a large hand on her shoulder. That guard again. People shouldn’t be allowed to grow that big!
“No sir. This, sir, is one of the governor’s distant cousins or aunts or uncles or some such, sir. She was here earlier, trying to find out what happened to the governor sir. Shall I toss her in the clink, sir?”
“No, no. That will not be necessary. Her boots are too small. I have studied all the footprints around this building, and they were made by a much larger person. Almost your size, in fact. Slightly shorter, I’d estimate. Your boot prints are slightly deeper than theirs. And yours do not stink of cabbage.” The hand left Carrick’s shoulder. “Very good sir. I will continue to stand guard sir. Sir!” He saluted, turned, and stomped back to the doorway.
“So, as you may know, I am Saengkt Ver Beh, the Royal Detective. You, I surmise, must be Carrick McGee. Don’t look so surprised. I already researched the governor, all her relatives, her known habits, hobbies, and fetishes. You want to know what happened to her. Understandable. All we know so far is that she was kidnapped by a rather large individual, and that vegetables are involved. Also, judging by letters found in the office, certain individuals have been writing to the governor for over five years, complaining about a malady found in the nearby fields. All the letters were sent with fictitious names and addresses. Names like “Stompin Magrapes” or “Diggin Fields”. Not terribly imaginative. Not even for a human. “
“The footprints lead towards the ferry. I have already interrogated the ferryman. He remembers seeing a local character with an infamous reputation crossing with a large roll of carpet over his shoulder. Do not take action – I shall alert the Royal Guard, and we will approach this brigand in the manner he deserves.” Carrick nodded, and watched the gargoyle flap his way towards the moongate. “Don’t take action” he mused “Ha! You don’t know me, do you, Mr Beh?”