Regular viewers will recall that back in 2017, Haldis wrote Mr. Pinkerton and The Christmas Cake wherein Fraser Fortune and Drew Lawson from Mummy Dearest (which I accidentally deleted from my site???) request an interview with Miss Butterwith and Mr. Pinkerton.
Well, here is that interview. (At this point, I think Haldis has written more about Mr. Pinkerton than I have!) :-D :-D :-D
Mr. Pinkerton and the Interview
Mr. Pinkerton had an itch. It was right below his left ear. He tried an ear flick. No, it didn’t help. He lifted his hind foot and twisted to give a good scratch, and the man across from him leaned forward.
Mr. Pinkerton froze.
The man Froze.
The man, Mr. Pinkerton had been introduced to him the previous evening at the bookstore’s annual Christmas party, was named Fraser Fortune. He had requested an interview with, in his words, a ‘crime solving cat and a botanist’ for his mysterious show. He had been sitting here, across from Mr. Pinkerton for nearly half an hour and he had yet to ask a single question. Mr. Pinkerton was beginning to think that Fraser Fortune had actually just wanted an interview with the botanist.
However, Miss Butterwith was busy organizing the evening’s festivity of wassailing. And Mr. Pinkerton was quite capable of giving an interview. He was perfectly capable of paying attention and answering questions.
Mr. Pinkerton twisted and scratched the annoying itch, and then faced forward again to continue his staring match with Fraser Fortune.
There was a small glass ornament sitting on the table next to Mr. Pinkerton. He wondered if he could just reach his paw out and just nudge….
“Hey,” said another man, Fraser Fortune’s partner, Drew, as he came to sit down next to Fraser Fortune. “I told you you didn’t need to wait for me to start the interview.”
Fraser Fortune turned to Drew and hissed, “He’s a cat.”
“Uh, yeah,” answered Drew. “But he’s a ‘crime solving cat’. What’s more mysterious than that?”
“I would much prefer a talking cat”, muttered Fraser Fortune. “I thought we would be interviewing the botanist.”
“Meow,” said Mr. Pinkerton, indignantly. How could this man sit across from him and say he was not worth interviewing? And that he didn’t talk. Of course he didn’t talk; Fraser Fortune had yet to ask him any questions!
“I think you insulted him,” said Drew.
“He’s. A. Cat.” Fraser Fortune hissed, again.
Mr. Pinkerton stood up, turned around, and sat down again, his back to Fraser Fortune. It seemed a good time to groom. Mr. Pinkerton licked his paw and then rubbed it behind his ear, down his cheek, and then licked the paw again.
“Yep,” Drew said, laughing. “You definitely insulted him.”
“Fine. You do it then,” Fraser Fortune grumbled.
‘Um, ok?” Drew cleared his throat and then raised his voice. “Thank you so much for meeting with us, Mr. Pinkerton.”
Mr. Pinkerton turned around to face Drew. He seemed like a nice man.
“Meow,” greeted Mr. Pinkerton.
“So, uh, Mr. Pinkerton, how did you and Miss Butterwith get started assisting the police in solving crimes.
Ah, thought Mr. Pinkerton, their first case. It was a very exciting time that introduced Inspector Appleby to their acquaintance. It started out as a job, but quickly evolved to a long and lasting friendship.
“Meow, meow, brreow, mew.” Mr. Pinkertons began his tale. He started kneading his paws as he got more into his story. He told of gorgonzola, cat nip, tiny fish, and finally finding the man who grew the gorgonzola.
A gruff laugh sounded behind Mr. Pinkerton. Inspector Appleby was standing, practically bent double from laughter. He straightened up, wiping a tear from his eye.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Pinkerton,” said Inspector Appleby. “I do love listening to you tell that story.” He turned to Fraser Fortune and Drew. “He means gongora, not gorgonzola. It’s an orchid. Also, there were no tiny fish. It was microfiche. Mr. Pinkerton tends to think in terms of what he finds important. Like cheese, and fish, and catnip. And Mr. Pinkerton, you got that catnip mouse at the village fete. It didn’t have anything to do with the case.”
Mr. Pinkerton was inclined to disagree with that as Mr. Pinkerton found that catnip mouse to be very important. Especially during the boring parts of the case.
Fraser Fortune and Drew were now staring at Inspector Appleby as if he had just sprouted whiskers. Cat whiskers, not that fuzzy caterpillar that currently lived above Inspector Appleby’s upper lip. But then Fraser Fortune seemed to rally and stood up to face Inspector Appleby.
“Good evening, Inspector Appleby,” greeted Fraser Fortune, flashing what he probably believed was a killer grin. “I’m so glad you’re here! I’m wondering if you could elaborate on what Mr. Pinkerton just reported?”
Inspector Appleby rocked back on his heels and gave Fraser Fortune a rather assessing look. He offered a grin of his own.
“You didn’t understand a word he said, did you? No, you didn’t.” Inspector Appleby laughed again.
“No, I mean, yes, it was just….” Started Fraser Fortune.
“His dialect,” finished Drew. He was grinning. He seemed to be enjoying his flustered partner.
“What are you laughing at?” Fraser Fortune grumbled at Drew. “You didn’t understand him, either.
“I readily admit to not speaking cat,” laughed Drew. “Now if it was antient Egyptian cat….”
“Meow,” said Mr. Pinkerton.
Drew’s jaw dropped.
“Well, there you have it,” stated Inspector Appleby.
“What?” demanded Fraser Fortune, looking between Inspector Appleby, Mr. Pinkerton, and Drew. “What did he say?” He asked his partner.
Before Drew had a chance to answer, Geoffrey came up behind Inspector Appleby. “We’re about ready to go. Did you ask Drew and Fraser if they wanted to join us? We’re going wassailing,” he added for Fraser Fortune and Drew.
“Meow,” said Mr. Pinkerton.
“Well of course you’re coming, Mr. Pinkerton. Up you go.”
Mr. Pinkerton jumped up and settled on Geoffrey’s shoulders.
Drew looked at Fraser Fortune, who shrugged. “Might be fun. We’d love to join you.”
As they headed for the door, Mr. Pinkerton heard Fraser Fortune whisper to Drew, “What did he say?”
“Uh, well, taking into account the accent, and the question about pronunciation, and….”
“What did he say?” Fraser Fortune repeated.
“Such is the curse of Amon-Ra, king of all gods,” answered Drew. Then he laughed.
“Apparently Mr. Pinkerton enjoys the same old movie I do.”
Fraser Fortune grinned back at his partner and snorted, “Cats!”
Exactly, thought Mr. Pinkerton.