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Dirk Malloy Mysteries 1. The Case of the Conned Contessa
The Story
It was a balmy Sunday evening, the type of evening meant for tigers and lips. A warm breeze blew into the sitting room of Contessa Francesca Cortina, wealthy heiress, great grand daughter of the creator of the Ford Cortina, and owner of the famous Cortina Family Jewels. The Contessa was a faded beauty, and perhaps that was what drew her to admire her jewels every Sunday night. It was her ritual to sit before her ornate dresser trying on jewellery and crying at the degraded state of her looks and the enduring beauty of her jewels.
But tonight she was joined by a mysterious guest, Fernando Sabatini. His aura of mystery made her ill-at-ease. Her tears were replaced by excreted pheromones that reeked of the illness of her ease to those perceptive enough to decipher them. Ants, for example, steered clear of the room. But there was no human or bear perceptive enough, no creature who could have saved the Contessa’s life.
The Contessa’s butler Manny McWhiskers looked in on the Contessa every hour or so on those Sunday evenings. But at 9pm, Manny entered the sitting room and found the Contessa sprawled across her dresser with a knife in her back. And both Fernando Sabatini and the famous Cortina Family Jewels were gone!!!!
Dirk Malloy’s Investigation
At 10pm Dirk Malloy arrived on the scene. Malloy was sauve, cool, and confident. A handmade Turkish cigarette hung from lips that were always masculine, yet could be tender at just the right, willing, moments. His eyes were those of a man who could penetrate any case or woman he set his steely gaze on. His steely gaze was like the girders of the Chrysler Building. Firm, reassuring, and there for a reason.
Malloy looked over the Butler, Manny McWhiskers, suspiciously. McWhiskers was a mess, and appeared to have gorged himself to soothe his shock. A smattering of crumbs covered his sleeve and his mouth was ringed with a thick circle of cooking chocolate.
Malloy began his questioning; "Was anyone else in the house this evening?"
"Yar" replied the traumatised butler, in a thick Scottish accent. "Who would that be?" "The blighted mardarar of carse, ‘nd aor meesterious ‘ouse guest, Fernando Sabatini." "Where is this Sabatini now?" "He’s scarpered, I tells ya. He worn’t nuthin’ more‘n a slick willy. Some pile of hoo-ha and caffufle aboot bein' a dis'ant kin o' the Cortinas. The Contessa felt right angry, but what with her continental hospitality she allowed the man to stay for the evening so’s he could arrange his passage to Boston." "And when’s the last time you saw the bounder?" Dirk probed, longingly, like a long thwarted lover. A lover of cold, diamond hard facts. "I saw him sneaking out the window of the sitting room at 9pm when I found the Contessa, Gawd bless her sowl, dead and mardared."
So who did it…
"Right, Manny, you’re nicked. You and Fernando Sabatini are one and the same." Malloy said as he pointed accusingly with a probing finger that once probed flesh as tender as this criminal’s secrets, flesh which now lay cold and eaten by fish at the bottom of a frigid lake (but is not relevant to this particular Malloy adventure!).
With a flourish Manny stood to his full proud height, puffed out his chest, and pulled off his wig of ragged locks to reveal a head of jet black hair smooth as freshly whipped chocolate mousse. He was transformed from a shabby Scotsman into the Spanish jackanape that he was, truly a master of disguise, but not as great a master as Malloy was of deduction. "Well done, sir. I have been captured. But I must know, how did you find me out?"
"Quite simple. Firstly, your Scottish accent was terrible. Secondly, I can tell by the crumbs of cabin bread on your sleeve, and the chocolate on your lips that you tied up the real butler in the pantry and ate his valuable food to torment him. Though your lips are smooth and your belly willing, I can see by the evil curl of your lip that you ate for malice, not for pleasure."
"Gah! You are a genius, Malloy. It is an honour to be found out by such a master of the criminal mind."
Malloy nodded at this unnecessary but truthful complement. "You are indeed lucky, most criminals must make do with capture by ordinary police. Only a rare few have the honour of being captured by Dirk Malloy, master detective."
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