This story was first published in print for The Writer’s Co-op’s Down the Rabbit Hole anthology series. This is the second installment of the Gumshoe Gus case files that now appears on my site. Enjoy!
She tip-toed into my office as if trying to burglarize it, but within plain sight. She had an odd way about her as she sat down before me.
My name is Gustavo Gottem, better known as Gumshoe Gus, private eye in a one-horse town named Lone Pony. I was satisfying a back itch against a door jamb when she slithered into my office.
“My name is Oom…uh, Olga. I was staying at the Come On Inn. I had my classic car parked outside. I noticed the cigarette car lighter was missing this morning. It is custom made. It cost a pretty penny, to borrow an Earth quote.”
You’re not making a lot of sense. See what I did there?” I quipped.
She looked at me as if I had two heads, with eyes that seem to rotate and blink in twos intermittently. “So, you’re a tourist?” I asked, with my eyes in a full squint.
“I guess you can say that,” she struggled to say. She fidgeted in the seat, adjusted her tight fitting, long sleeved jumpsuit, and tried hard to avoid eye contact. My detective hunches were in full array, but her uneasiness alarmed me. I made a silly attempt to ease her tension. “So, what planet are you visiting from?” I joked.
Her eyes widened and her breathing became erratic. I didn’t expect a reaction like this.
She cleared her throat and spoke. “On my planet, I cannot lie. My system would break down and I would cease to exist. I am from the planet Pluto,” she resigned.
I rose to show her the door and refer her to Dr. Brian Brain, the local quack, when she blurted out, “I can prove it, but only to you and you must not tell anyone.”
Her demeanor oozed sincerity. I nodded slowly for her to show me the proof. Her head began to expand as if it were a balloon. Her skin and scalp parted to reveal a mauve colored velvety skin with huge slanted, oval periwinkle eyes. Her head remained in that position momentarily until it slowly retracted back to the human, artificial form. The visual wonder dampened my unmentionables, and I excused myself for a quick change. After volleying thoughts of my own sanity, I returned to my desk to gather more information from my new interplanetary client.
“I am the first solarnaut to penetrate Earth. I was granted this mission to study life and record my observations,” she stated, rubbing her facial features back in place.
“Why Lone Pony? There are a million more appealing places to visit.”
“Lone Pony is a cozy, sleepy town where an alien can blend in and for the most part, go unnoticed. Besides, who would believe an account of an alien sighting from a citizen of this municipality?”
I smiled at her reasoning, which was spot on. There was something about this Plutonian that I found fascinating. “You know, Olga, Earth’s scientists do not consider Pluto a planet, not even a dwarf planet.”
“That’s because Earth’s scientists are idiots,” Olga laughed.
I matched her laughter. “So, tell me, do they make classic cars on Pluto?”
She continued her laughter with a more jovial response. “Contrary to belief, we do not abduct humans, we abduct classic relics of history. The ’75 AMC Pacer is quite the collectible, and with some Plutonian modifications, well, it became my vehicle of choice for interplanetary travel.”
I couldn’t contain my laughter. “Hundreds of classic wheels, and you abduct an AMC Pacer?” I used her small frame as a crutch to catch me from falling over. Olga explained she was enamored by the contoured hatchback windows that was unique in that era. She was an odd one, a seamless fit in this town. Still, I felt she wasn’t telling me everything.
“Your name is really not Olga,” I said, nudging a response.
“OomLaFa is my name. P!ease refer to me as Olga around townfolk.”
I assured her I would adhere to her request. “What is so special about the cigarette lighter?”
OomLaFa went on to explain the cigarette lighter was a modification that actually activates the vehicle, not the ignition key. “That is why I visited you. I need to retrieve it to return to my planet.” Olga further explained a force field that encapsulates the vehicle allows for safe passage that dissolves when Earth’s atmosphere is penetrated and then re-energized for the ascent home.
I followed her out to where her car was parked outside the motel. It was cherry red, and I slowly massaged the contours as if I were sculpting a bust.
“My first inkling was the perpetrator is a smoker and perhaps borrowed it and will return it at some point.”
She nodded at my reasoning, although not convinced that was the intent.
I asked her to open the hatchback for possible clues. She obliged as I went into my element, climbing in and nosing around like a beagle sniffing for drugs at customs. I noticed a slight flesh colored smudge at the floor and inquired about it.
“It looks like the exact color of the coating I applied to my head to make my appearance human,” said Olga, with a curious, tilted head. “But, I was never in the back of my space vehicle.”
I no longer surmised the cigarette lighter was simply borrowed, but was lifted for a much greater purpose, and I filed that reasoning under brilliant deduction number seven-hundred and seventy-one.
My first inquiry towards my date with solving my first interplanetary case was to ask about weight limitations to her space vehicle.
“My weight is only a quarter of the maximum limitation, so another passenger would…”
We both nodded with the same train of thought. “Do you have a rival or even a friend that was not selected for your mission, but might’ve hitched a ride in the back, escaping detection?”
“Why do say friend,” asked Olga.
I explained an enemy would’ve left her on Earth to die, in Lone Pony, no less.
“My Solarnaut partner, Polarfa was the only Plutonian that knew of my secret ignition cigarette lighter. I was chosen over her. The rule was for only one to take the trip because the thought of losing both of us would set back Pluto’s Interplanetary travel back light years, since we were both tops of our class.”
I suggested we simply wait at the vehicle for her return, since she needed the vehicle to get back to Pluto.
Olga looked downcast, and after much goading from me, she finally revealed there was only one caveat, only known to her. She had only four hours left before she was to return to her home planet. “The vehicle’s coating can only sustain Earth’s atmosphere for a set period of time, and then it will start to deteriorate as well as the coating on my face.”
It’s a good thing I have a strong ticker, because I almost fell to the floor with this added wrinkle to solving the case. This was sizing up to be my greatest challenge, an astronomical mystery with a time limit and two lives at stake. I had to act fast and I didn’t have much to go on. Woe is me.
Olga did let on that Polarfa knew about Lone Pony because the remote location was chosen in advance. She had a penchant for alcohol since there was none on Pluto, she added.
“I now know her motive, Olga. Your space friend wanted to get drunk, and using you for her ride back. She knew she couldn’t do that alone, so I bet she wasn’t too upset when you were chosen.”
“But, how do we find her?”
“Al, the alcohol aficionado,” I smiled. On the surface, Al wasn’t a very good resource, but I was guilty of getting leads from him that led to collars. I led Olga to Al’s favorite back alley, behind Henry’s Hot Dogs From Who Knows Where.
Al was wetting his beak when we approached. I immediately noticed he sported a flesh colored smudge on his cheek.
“An attractive woman traded a kiss on the cheek for a swig of whiskey. A good trade until her head began to expand. I never been that drunk to see something like that,” he slurred.
“Where can we find her,” I asked, my brow moist with sweat.
“She wanted more whiskey than I was willing to supply so I pointed her towards Bucky’s Beer Bistro,” Al slobbered, wiping his nose with his sleeve.
Olga and I dashed the quarter mile trek over and pushed through the bi-fold doors and saw Polarfa, up on a bar stool and belting out Karaoke. She was slinking slowly through the singing portion of Blondie’s “Rapture,” and bouncing through the rap ending. Her moves were mesmerizing, as the house was cheering her on. Bucky had a wall-of-fame of Karaoke Krooners and Polarfa was an instant addition. Her velvety voice was out of this world, pun intended, however her flesh colored makeup was starting to wear off.
Time was of the essence and I didn’t want my interplanetary friends to out stay their welcome, so I signaled Olga to head towards the Pacer to prepare her exit. I grabbed Polarfa off of the stool and announced to the crowd the party would continue outside. The masses followed as I carried her over my shoulder towards the classic space vehicle. Little did they know they would be treated to an alien ascent they would never forget, even though no one outside city limits would believe them in this town of eccentricity.
I dumped Polarfa in the passenger seat, and Olga explained to her the dire situation. An exchange between them followed that sounded like two chipmunks fighting over a nut. Polarfa finally nodded her understanding, and returned the cigarette lighter back to its rightful place.
The space vehicle fired up, as townsfolk looked on with mouths agape. The two Plutonians exposed their real alien forms below their made up exterior, rendering a mixture of swears and expletives from the awed citizens. Olga bid me adieu with a wink, bellowed “Pluto is a planet,” and then sped off, one hundred yards away, and then vertically up towards outer space.
The aliens succeeded on their time sensitive fact finding/pleasure trip, “The Case of the Missing Cigarette Lighter” was solved, and all was well in the one-horse town called Lone Pony.
Moray Writes 