For the last hour, Theodore had been tailing this small, rat-like man through the streets of the city he lived in, ever since he'd observed the rat-man acting suspiciously while eating lunch in the park a few blocks from his apartment. It only took a few minutes of following him to confirm that the man was in fact up to something, and Theodore had a pretty good idea of what it was. He'd seen the signs a million times before, and this man fulfilled at least seven of the ten things Theodore had trained himself to look out for.
It seemed he would find out if his hunch was correct soon though, as the man appeared to have arrived at his destination: a small, derelict apartment building in what were considered the slums of the city. Theodore crouched behind a parked car on the street while the man waited to be buzzed in.
"Hello?" inquired a sultry voice, slightly marred by the old intercom's outdated speakers.
"H-hi, it's...it's Randall, from...well, it's Randall," the rat-man stuttered noticing his wedding band as he pushed down the button to respond. "Can you let me in please?" he asked hurriedly, removing the ring and stuffing it into his pocket.
The woman didn't reply, though she did oblige his request. The rat-man disappeared into the building, and Theodore stood up from behind the car.
An unshaven old man in a white tank-top was sitting on a stoop across the street from the apartment building, smoking a cigarette and watching Theodore watch Randall. After the latter had left, he whistled to get Theodore's attention.
"Yes, hi, hello?" Theodore said, turning around on his heel and acknowledging the man.
"What are you doing, following that guy like that?" the old man asked, suspiciously.
"Oh, it's my job to follow him!" Theodore beamed proudly, crossing the street to where the man was sitting. He pulled a business card out of his pocket and presented it to the man. "My name is Theodore Venkman, and I'm a detective who works on special cases."
The man took the card and looked at it, before glancing back at Theodore and crumpling it up. "I don't need a detective for nothin', sorry," the man said, dropping it onto the sidewalk.
"That's fine," Theodore said, bending down to retrieve it. "Would you mind if I sat here with you and waited for that rat-looking fellow to come back out?"
"It's a free country," the old man grunted, punctuating himself with a drag from his cigarette.
Theodore pushed up his thick brown glasses with the heel of his wrist as he sat down on the steps next to the man. "Thank you sir," he said, as he stuffed the business card back into his front shirt pocket.
"I ain't a sir, you can call me Griff," the man wheezed, smashing his cigarette butt into the side of the stoop he was perched on and dropping it onto the sidewalk below.
"Well Griff, I'm Theodore. Nice to meet you," Theodore responded, flashing a grin he believed to be much more charming than it actually was.
"You just said that," he said, motioning to the rectangle poking out of the detective's pocket.
"Oh, right..." Theodore mumbled, looking off into the middle-distance.
Wordlessly, the man offered Theodore a cigarette from his pack, taking another for himself. Though he'd quit a few months previous, Theodore was never one to turn down a free smoke, so he happily obliged.
The man would give him several more over the course of the next two hours, as they both sat and waited for the rat-man to exit the building across the street. The man didn't seem to mind Theodore's company, though he didn't speak much and often mumbled incoherently when he did. Theodore liked him.
Finally, the rat-man emerged from the building, with his shirt wrinkled and his hair slightly askew, looking exponentially more nervous than before. He fished his wedding ring out of his pocket, looking at the building behind him ashamedly in the process. Wriggling it back onto his finger, he began walking in the same direction both he and Theodore had come from earlier that day.
The old man had noticed this too, and looked at Theodore as the man grew smaller in the distance. He raised an eyebrow and took a drag from his cigarette.
"I've got to give him some sort of head start, don't I?" Theodore asked, standing up.
The man shrugged. "Guess so. Never been much for huntin' humans," he said, smirking for the first time since Theodore had met him.
"I've never looked at it that way," he said, smiling back. "Thank you...uh..."
"Griff."
"Right, sorry. Griff. Thank you Griff, for the cigarettes and stimulating conversation. It's been a pleasure." He bowed slightly.
"Same," Griff said, waving him away.
Theodore crossed the street and began walking briskly in the direction he'd come from, leaving the smoking old man to his thoughts.
---
A few blocks later, Theodore was within scouting distance of the rat-man (whose gait was much calmer than his), and slowed his rambling pace. Luckily, they had entered a part of the city that had plenty of small shops and sidewalk vendors, so he could maintain a safe distance while not arousing suspicion.
At one point, the rat-man stopped at a jewelry stand, admiring whichever knock-off watches the vendor believed he could sell that week. Swiftly, Theodore walked directly behind him, putting two fingers into the rat-man's back pocket and extracting his wallet, putting it into his own coat pocket immediately.
After taking a few steps to ensure no one (especially the rat-man) had noticed his theft, he stepped into the foyer of the shop next to the vendor and opened it up, inspecting the driver's license within. Memorizing the address, he folded it back up and returned it to his coat pocket.
He pretended to be very interested in a poster on the shop's wall while he waited for the rat-man to finish admiring wares and walk by him, something he did almost immediately. After he'd passed by, Theodore removed the wallet from his coat pocket and threw it on the ground behind the man.
"Sir! Sir!" Theodore exclaimed, trying to get the rat-man's attention. "You dropped your wallet!"
The rat-man turned around, confused. After he'd realized Theodore was talking to him, his face turned red as he turned around to face him. As he did so, Theodore picked the wallet up off of the ground and handed it to him, smiling politely.
"Th-thanks," the rat-man said, his eyes lingering on Theodore's face for a second longer than they should have.
"No problem," Theodore replied, nonchalantly turning around and walking in the opposite direction, the rat-man's address bouncing around in his head.
---
After walking for about an hour, he'd arrived at the house whose address matched that on the rat-man's license. Theodore knocked on the door politely. After counting to sixty slowly while he waited for someone to answer, he did it again. After counting one more time (time time to ninety), he began pounding on the door with both of his hands like his life depended on it, while screaming that he needed "help" and that there was a "murderer" outside "chasing" him.
Within seconds, the door opened and Theodore fell inside, landing flat on his face. Turning around onto his back, he looked up at the unamused face of the woman who had answered.
"I knew someone was home," he grinned, rocking himself to an upright position.
"Who the hell are you?!" asked the woman, through gritted teeth.
"My name is Theodore Venkman, and I'm a detective who works on special cases," he said, as he took the used, half-crumpled business card out of his shirt pocket and handed it to her.
Theodore continued on. "It has been brought to my attention that you require my services. I am happy to provide them fo-"
The woman became much, much angrier and interrupted Theodore. "What on earth are you talking about? I don't need a fucking detective! Now get off of my floor and out of my house before I call the police!"
Theodore spoke calmly, trying to diffuse the situation. "Ma'am, I would advise you to calm down. Given the current state of things, I don't think you shoul-"
"The CURRENT STATE OF THINGS?!" she bellowed, face turning red. "The current fucking state of things is that you have come into my house uninvited, soliciting services that I don't need, all while I am extremely busy! Now GET OUT!" she yelled, pointing to the open door.
Theodore stood up and took two steps towards the door, lingering on the threshold. His eyes narrowed, and he looked at the flushed, wheezing woman he'd met less than thirty seconds previous. He took a deep breath.
"Your husband has been cheating on you with a woman that is approximately half your age, whom he probably met online," he said, calmly stepping outside. "And unless he lacks a brain stem, he is perfectly aware that you are cheating on him as well."
The woman did not say a word to Theodore. The color that had so vividly painted her face only a few moments ago was gone, and her teeth were no longer gritted against one another.
After a few seconds, she spoke. "H-h-how d-dare you accuse me of that!" she sputtered, face turning crimson once more. "You don't even know me, or my husb-"
This time, Theodore was the one doing the interrupting. "Your nails are recently manicured, your hair has been recently dyed and your skin has been recently bronzed. Judging by the fashion in which your husband's infidelity occurred the two of you haven't had sex in...oh, I'd say six to nine months?" The woman's face drained of color once more. Theodore was afraid she might pass out.
"Yes, about," he concluded coldly, still maintaining eye contact with the woman. "And he's been so, so good to you, until today. But you haven't been as good to him, have you?"
The woman was silent, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.
"No, you've been with someone else for a while now. At least three months, yes? If I may hazard a guess, I'm going to say he's your...yoga instructor?"
"Pilates," the woman whispered, burying her face in her hands.
"Damn!" Theodore exclaimed, honestly heartbroken. "I was so close!"
How did you know?" she sobbed, looking at him through her fingers. "I've been so good at hiding it...so good at hiding it..."
"It was your bra," Theodore answered brightly, pointing at her chest. "It's a little too big for you, but clearly well-worn. Any time that women participate in an activity that involves strengthening chest muscles, their breasts can reduce in size. Especially when it is large amounts of activity over a short period of time. You've been visiting him more than once or twice a week, haven't you?"
"Every day," she sniffed, wiping the tears from her eyes. "I go to his studio every day and Randall doesn't even notice. It's like he doesn't even care about me any more. He made it so easy..." Her body began shaking silently as she sobbed to herself.
Theodore touched her shoulder robotically. "I could tell that he didn't want to cheat on you. He was more anxious after the act of copulation than he was before. That's not normal," he said, solemnly. "But when you make it obvious that you are sleeping with other men as you have, what choice did you give him?"
His question went unanswered. The woman pulled herself together enough to speak again. "You expected me to actually pay you, for this...detective work?" she asked, anger rising in her watery voice.
"Well, yes," Theodore replied, slightly hurt. "I figure that you'd be seeking my services eventually, since your husband isn't the sneakiest fellow, and you'd likely be suspicious of his infidelity. And since I am truthfully advertised as the most inexpensive infidelity-specializing private detective in the phone book, you'd come to me first. It's human nature to be frugal. My services essentially cut out the middle-man, ensuring that your case is solved quicker than it would have been had you come to me on your own terms. Plus I figure this usually gives the spouse that is cheated on a chance to make a preemptive strike against the one doing the cheating. I didn't know beforehand that you were cheating on your husband as well, or I wouldn't have even bothered taking this case. It would have worked itself out eventually. Your husband has a guilty conscience."
The woman stared at Theodore in disbelief. "What kind of detective are you?" she asked, awe-struck.
"A specialized one," Theodore said, stepping off the porch and onto the sidewalk. "I'll be sending you an invoice for my services," he said, walking away slowly.
"On second thought," he added, stopping and turning around to face the woman whose life he'd just shaken, "Maybe I should send two. Have a good evening, ma'am."
His pace picked up, and soon he was at the end of the woman's street. Just as he was about to turn the corner, a silver luxury car beat him to it, coming from the opposite direction. Inside was the rat-man, Russell, on his way home. Noticing Theodore standing on the corner, he glanced at him casually before realizing who he was and yelling something inaudible to him from the inside of his car. Theodore wasn't the best at reading lips, but it was definitely not a friendly greeting.
The man slammed on his brakes and hurriedly climbed out of his vehicle to confront him, but Theodore was already gone.
No comments:
Post a Comment