joegoda | The Framing of Jon Smith

11622 / 50000 words. 23% done!

"Dick didn't see anybody, he said." I sipped my Jameson, slowly. I needed a buzz, not a burn.

"Hmm." Rosie hummed.

Stitch looked over at the corner where Dicks was playing. "Do you think he..."

"No," I said emphatically. "Dick is a good cop. I trust him, explicitly. If he said he didn't see anyone around the body, he didn't see anyone suspicious."

Stitch looked back at me, his hound-dog face with his ever-sad eye serious. "So... how did you see her?"

Stitch had lost his left eye in a sewing accident. The needled broke on a down stroke and embedded itself where it could do the most damage. He was still a first rate tailor. He just did his work by hand, now. Charged more, too.

"I did my thing," I shrugged. "She had to have come out of the door not ten minutes before I got there."

"Could your thing have been looking at a time earlier?" Rosie asked. "You know, like it's gotten stronger or something?"

I barked a short laugh. "Not likely, Rosie. I've been like this for the last fifteen - twenty years. Five or ten minutes is the only window I have."

"So..." Vinny paused.

"How come I didn't see her when I got there?" I finished for him. "I was there for a good ten minutes before I started using my thing."

"'Zactly." Vinny drank red wine. He always drank red wine. I don't think it mattered what type. Sometimes, if there was a vampire among us, I think it would be Vinny. "Why didn't you see her?"

"That's my question. Where was she? Hidden in plain sight?"

Stitch nodded. "Mary isn't a magic user, is she? I mean, the rules and all"

The rules, in this case, went 'If you are a cursed individual, then you cannot be a magic user, as you are a part of the magic.' Something about if you're part of the river, then you can't push the river or some sort of Zen crap like that.

I shrugged. "She's not supposed to be. Doesn't mean she isn't. That's why I have to find her, to find out. I have to talk to her face to face."

Rosie, the ever-loving mother of us all, nodded grimly. "I know she has a place down by the river, way south on Riverside. By the old Warehouse district. Not a place for a kid like that."

Stitch snorted in his beer. "A three hundred year old kid, you mean."

Rosie shrugged one shoulder. "A kid is a kid."

"Well, kid or not, I need to ask her some questions." The Jameson quit burning. It was almost time to call it a night. "You guys keep an eye out for her, okay?"

Nods all around, sprinkled with "you bet." and "Sure."

Dick sauntered over to the table, ducking under a low beam that threatened to whack him good. "So, did you see me trounce the bad guys?"

Stitch gave him the eye. "No, Dick. You always trounce the bad guy. What's to watch?"

Dick looked hurt. "My style! My form! Nearly perfect, this time."

"Which means you didn't stick any of the other players," Vinny said.

"Exactly!" Dick pulled up a chair and saw the serious side of the conversation he just missed. "What's up, companions? What did I miss?"

"I was telling them about Mary," I said.

"What about Mary? Which Mary?" He looked at our faces. "Oh. Mary at the murder."

"Yeah." I waved at a nearby waitress to bring my tab. "I have to go find her, Dick."

Dick raised a hand as if he was signaling traffic to stop. "Maybe I should go, Johann. Official police business and all."

I nodded. "I think you should, as well. But I have to find her just to satisfy the cat of my curiosity."

Dick nodded. "I can dig that, brother, but still... What are you going to ask her that I won't?"

"Nuthin, I reckon." I shrugged. "I just may ask them differently. Like, how could she be there and not be there at the same time."

"Oh, I know that," Dick said smugly, ordering a Guinness while I paid my tab.

I stared at him, blankly. "Would you mind sharing, Mister Cop person?"

Dick just smiled and said, "You didn't see her because you were seeing a shadow, old chum."

"A shadow?" Vinny raised an eyebrow. "How did Jon see a shadow of someone that wasn't there?"

"She was there all right," Dick said, holding on to his mystery like a kitten with a ball of yarn. "She was just hidden away."

"Really?" I was interested, seriously. "How so? Mary doesn't do magic, Dick."

Dick nodded and sipped his Guinness as it arrived fresh from the waitress' hand. "Yep. The rules and all that sort of thing. Mary didn't need to do magic, old son." Dramatic pause, with teeth. "It was done for her."

"By who?" Vinny pounced. "Jon said you didn't see anyone there."

"And I didn't, Vincent." Dick turned serious and looked at me. "I got to thinking about Mary and why I didn't see her and why you did. So, I went back to the crime scene and I took a friend. You know Jack, yes?"

Jack, known locally as Jack of Shadows and by those who knew him as Ugly Jack was a well known magic snitch. Short, gnarly limbed, nearly bald headed, and probably birthed under a bridge somewhere, he could smell magic if there was any being used. On good days, he could also tell you who was using it, if he recognized the scent.

"Yeah," I admitted, "I know Jack. I don't really like him."

"Oh, he's all right," Dick said, "if you stand downwind of him."

"Okay, so you took Jack to the scene." I urged him onward. "And?"

"Jack said that there was some big magic being done there. He said it had been done in the last 24 hours."

"Did he know the source?" I peered at him over the shot glass of Jameson.

"No," Dick said, shaking his head. "He said it smelled weird and strange, and he couldn't quite place it."

Rosie sighed heavily, her breasts making waves that could be felt across the room. "Dick. honey. You are the only normal person I know that doesn't hate everything magic."

Dick just smiled enigmatically. "My secret, love. Everyone has a little magic, you know. Just not everyone believes in it."

I sighed, but without the dramatic result that Rosie created. "So... Ugly Jack smelled big magic, and he didn't know where it came from."

Dick shook his head negatively. "I didn't say he didn't know where it came from. I just said he didn't know who it came from."

"Potato, patatoe," Stitch said.

"Not so, Stitcheroo," Dick said. "Who is not where, where is not who."

"Dick," I muttered, "what did jack find out?"

"Another mystery, my friend." Dick drew big on his Guinness. I waited him out. "He said it came from everywhere more than anywhere."

I sighed. "So, I need to go talk to Jack. I mean, I really want to talk to Mary, to find out what she knows that I don't. I really don't want to talk to Jack..."

"Nobody wants to talk to Jack, Jon." Vinny said grimly.

"But maybe I can pick up something you missed, Dick."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, old son." Dick shrugged. "Good luck, but I think I told you what he told me verbatim."

"No offense, Dick," I shrugged. "I just think another set of ears might help."

Stitch hiccuped. "I don't know why you don't use Sparky."

"Who or what", Dick asked, "is Sparky?"

"Sparky is a salamander," Stitch said. "He's my friend."

Vinny sneered. "He's your pet."

Stitch shook his head negatively. "He is NOT a pet, Vinny. He talks to me, so therefore he's not a pet. He's a friend."

Rosie laid a hand on top of one of Vinny's. "He's Stitch's friend, Vinny. Let it be."

Vinny opened his mouth, caught sight of Rosie's grass green eyes, and closed it again. I suspect there may be more to Vinny and Rosie than meets the eye. Or, perhaps there is exactly what meets the eye there. Regardless, Vinny nodded and was silent for once.

"Stitch," I shook a finger at him and was speechless for a few seconds. "I think you're a genius."

He smiled broadly. "Shhh. Don't tell anyone. Most people think I'm an idiot."

Which, by the way, is exactly what Stitch is. One of many village idiots who make their living by playing the fool, 24/7. He's not stupid, just a bit slow, but a sweeter, more gentle spirit you would never find.

"I don't understand," Dick said. "What can a lizard do?"

"Oh, a lizard can't do much at all, Dick," Stitch said. "But a Salamander can do a lot. A Salamander can start a fire, and a Salamander can find a fire."

"Find a fire?" Dick still looked confused. I had to step in or Stitch would weave a world of confusion that Dick would never get out of.

"Salamanders," I explained, "have an affinity to all things fire. They can create fire, because that is part of their nature. They can also find fire, or in the case of Mary, matches, which..."

"Which create fire," Dick said, nodding. He looked at Stitch. "Is this Salamander thing a common knowledge thing?"

Stitch shrugged. "I don't know. All I know is that I woke up one day and Sparky was sitting next to my bed, drinking hot tea."

"Drinking hot tea?" Vinny looked skeptic. Can't say I blame him. "Really?"

"He wouldn't drink cold tea, now would he?" Stitch asked.

"No," Vinny said quietly, accepting minor defeat. "He wouldn't."

"Did you bring Sparky with you, by any chance?" I was hopeful.

"He's not here right now," Stitch said, "but he'll be here shortly."

"Stepped out for a bit?" Dick asked.

"Stepped out for a smoke," Stitch replied.

"Of course," Vinny said. "What else."

In answer to Vinny's questions, a voice, low and melodic, acidic and a bit Jersey sounding said "Me, numb nuts. I'm what else."

"Sparky!" Stitch reached down and produced a long, scaly lizard who was bright red with large green eyes. In one hand was the butt end of a cigar and on his head was an old battered fedora, tiny sized for his tiny sized Salamander head.

Now, I was very curious. I had never heard that Stitch had a pet, let alone a pet Salamander. Let alone a pet Salamander who smoked cigars, wore a hat and talked like a bad tempered Jimmy Durante. And oddly, it is a thing that did not surprise me. And so, my curiosity was not that Stitch had a pet Salamander at the exact time I was hunting for a fire bug, my curiosity was how did all of this happen right now, right here and how come this was the first I had heard of Sparky. Mysteries upon mysteries. And they could wait till later.

"Everybody, this is Sparky." Stitch held the Salamander up in one hand, which was fairly easy, as Sparky was only about five inches long if you didn't count his tail, which wound around and down Stitch's arm. "Sparky, this is everybody."

"Huh," Sparky huhed. "And I thought the world was much bigger than just five people."

"Sparky," I said, "I have a question for you."

"Yeah?" Sparky eyed me. "What's yer question, round boy?"

Okay, so I'm a bit round. So what?

"Do you know the little Match Girl?"

"Yeah, I know her." Sparky rolled his eyes. "Every Salamander knows Mary. What about her?"

"I think she's involved in a murder."

"Yeah?" Now I had his attention. "For reals? No kiddin'?"

"For reals and no kiddin'," I said. "What I want to know is can you find her?"

"She's lost?" Sparky removed his fedora and scratched between his eyes. "She's not down by the river in the hovel she calls a home?"

"I dunno," I told him. "I was hoping that you could tell me."

"Nope," Sparky said. "I ain't the amazing Kreskin. I can't tell where anyone is unless I see them."

Dick closed his mouth. Normal folk don't often hear from talking animals. It's not that animals can't talk or don't talk. It's just that normal people don't believe they can, so normal people never hear them. Dick opened his mouth again and closed it again. Then he opened it again and asked "The amazing who?"

"Kreskin." Sparky sighed and blew out a smoke ring. "Go look it up, buddy. It'll take more time than I want to explain."

"Okay," I said, "so, what do I need to do to help you hunt down Mary?"

"You could buy me a burrito," Sparky said.

"Really?" I looked up at Stitch. "A burrito? Really?"

Stitch shrugged. "He eats a lot."

"Okay. One burrito coming up." I waved down a waitress and ordered a burrito.

"With extra hot sauce," a tiny voice said.

I ordered extra hot sauce. And one more Jameson's.

"Okay, Slick." Sparky jumped onto the table from Stitches hand and walked over to look me in the eyes. "Once I eat a bit, take me down to the river and we'll go Match Girl hunting."

"It's dark, Sparky." Not that I mind the dark, but it had been a fully day all ready.

"So?" The Salamander picked up a peanut from the free lunch bowl. "Can you think of a better time to see the fire?"

"What fire?" Dick asked. "Personal curiosity, you understand."

"You're a cop, right?" Dick nodded. "There's gonna be a fire in the warehouse district, about a block away from that shack that Mary lives in." He looked at one slim wrist at the tiny black wrist watch on it. "In about an hour. Maybe less."

"Maybe less," Dick wondered.

"Depends on how quick Slick here," the Salamander indicated me, "finishes his whiskey."

"How," Dick pushed, "could you possibly know when a fire is about to be set. Unless you're the one doing it."

"Not me, Dick." Sparky put an extra emphasis on Dick's name. "It'll be some bum down at the dock who falls asleep smoking."

"How could you know that?" Dick challenged.

"Firelight moves at the speed of light, and some fire moves even faster than that." Sparky bit into the burrito that had just arrived. "Think quantum, chum. Think tachyon, think tunneling. Hell, think whatever you want. I just want to be down at the dock to see the fire, or else it's gonna be a whole lot worse than if I wasn't there."

"Really?" Vinny was incredulous. His feelings may have been a bit bruised because here was Stitch's pet, who wasn't a pet and was indeed talking. "Are you going to put the fire out or something?"

"Do I look big enough to put out a fire?" Sparky smirked. "What are you? Stupid or something?"

Stitch gasped. "Sparky! No need to be rude. It was just a question."

The Salamander looked up at Stitch and shrugged. "Sure, boss. Whatever you say." He turned back to Vinny. "Look, chum. There's a lot of things I can do. I can't put out a fire. But I can direct it. You know? As in what direction the fire goes? And if I'm there, then I can direct the fire to stuff that's less flammable. Capish?"

Vinny Capished and nodded. "Okay, I capish. AND I want to see this Salamander in action. Jon, finish that whiskey and let's go."

Sparky held up the burrito in one hand and shook his head. "Not till I finish this bomb off. Man, this burrito stinks. After we find the Match Girl, somebody owes me some Real Mexican."