A Close Shave - Part 4 - A Craven Danger Mystery
Craven Danger dialed Betty Fletcher’s home number for a third time. This time she answered the phone.
“Oh, good” said Craven. “You’re back. I been tryin’ ta call ya for an hour.”
”It‘s Sunday,” said Betty. ”Can‘t a girl have a day off without bein‘ missed?. Ya did miss me, didn‘t ya?”
”Sure I did, Betty,” said Craven. ”But what I wanna know is where ya takin‘ me tonight and why‘s it such a secret?”
”Never you mind, Mr. Danger,” said Betty. ”Sidney and me will pick you up at five sharp. And we’re gonna have a good time, too. And while I was at the bakery just now, I bought ya a chocolate chip cookie.”
“Yeah?,” said Craven.
“But I gotta tell ya,” said Betty. “The Bronx zoo must be missin’ a monkey, ‘cause I just bumped in ta one at the bakery.”
“What was ya gettin’ at the bakery in the first place?” said Craven.
“I’ll get ta that in a minute,” said Betty.
“First I gotta tell ya about the monkey with the big paws.”
“I’m listenin’,” said Craven.
“So I’m at the bakery bendin’ over the display case, eyein’ all the goodies, when I notice this mug eyein’ the goodies too. Only he ain’t eyeballin’ the cupcakes behind the glass.”
‘See somethin’ ya like?’ I says. ‘Ya droolin’ like an ol’ dog.’
‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘I see a coupla hot buns I’d like ta nibblin’ on.‘
“Then he moves in close like I’m givin’ away free samples. That’s when I haul off and slug him in the bread basket, just like my sister taught me.”
“What!” said Craven.
“It knocks the wind right outta their sails she told me, and gives a girl a chance ta run.”
“Did ya run?” said Craven.
“I didn’t have ta,” said Betty. “The little weasel ran like his hair was on fire. And it woulda been, too, if he laid a hand on me. Then I went back ta those chocolate chip cookies I was eyein’. I know how much ya like ‘em. So I got the biggest one they had.”
“Ah, gee thanks, Betty,” said Craven. “But ya still ain’t told me why you was at the bakery ta begin with.”
“I was gettin’ a pumpkin pie for someone,” said Betty.
“Hmm,” said Craven. “My favorite. Who‘s the lucky egg?”
“Well, Mr. Danger,” said Betty. “I wanted it to be a surprise, but I guess I oughta tell ya. It’s for ya mother. She invited us up ta the Bronx for Sunday supper.”
“She what?” said Craven. “Well I ain’t goin’. At least not until she gets rid of that crouton she got livin’ with her.”
“That’s cretin,” said Betty.
“Whatever,” said Craven. “I ain’t goin’. So enjoy the pie. And have fun with my older brother, the moron.”
“Ya got a brother?” said Betty. “How come ya never talk about him?”
“What’s ta talk about?” said Craven. “He’s been dead ta me for twenty years. And I don’t plan on digging him up any time soon.”