'There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you" -Maya Angelou

A/N: I originally wrote this story as an extremely belated Christmas/New Year's/Birthday present for my best friend Trixygirl. It is a prequel to a musical we were involved in writing called 'The Case of the Perfect Man', which was also the first (and hopefully not the last) show we performed in together. Trixygirl starred as the character Police Chief Frank McGinnity, and I starred as my first male lead Rick Sponetti (Yes, we both played males...long story...). We were both very invested in our two characters, who appear as rivals to those who would see the show from a distance. Of course, we saw the possibility for much depth and hidden stories within our two characters, and the past which intertwines them, and so (with a push from Trixygirl herself in a birthday card she wrote me) this short story was born. It includes a few subtle references to 'Perfect Man' and its characters, but I still believe that it can be read without any real knowledge of the show and its events.

This original student-written musical, set in the 1920's town of Murray, told the story of Nellie Miller, an innocent yet independent young woman, who joins forces with Private Detective Rick Sponetti and former hairstylist Garry Gimball. Working together, this unlikely trio hopes to uncover the truth about Jasper Wolfe, a 'perfect man' who Nellie fell in love with through the 'Faceboard'. As the investigation progresses, with tough gangsters and a conniving girl pack watching their every move, it is soon revealed that no one, not even Jasper himself, may be who they seem to be.

You can find a video montage of this show here: watch?v=ckU1BIRGf30

I am still very much in love with this production, and despite now a new production called 'Hotel Olympus' consuming my life (sometimes a little too much), I still consider this show the best and funnest musical I have ever had the privilege to be a part of. It will forever have a place in my heart, as will Rick, who along with the challenges of playing a strong, male lead, gave me so much experience and confidence in my acting and storytelling ability. And so, without further ado, I hope you enjoy this little short story.

Sincerely,

Sophie

P.S. Please don't kill me 'Seussia' fans. The wait for the next chapter, and Act 3, still remains, but I promise you that it will not be forever. Blame VCE, not me.

The Mystery Beyond the Man

A Prequel Short Story based on the musical 'The Case of the Perfect Man'

"Papa! Papa! I solved another mystery!"

On hearing the loud, slightly squeaky cry, Police Chief Sponetti turned his head slightly, his eyes shining bright as he spotted his son Ricardo running quickly towards him out of the school gate. When he met his father, still in his work suit and one of his iconic large detective's coats, the boy struggled to keep still, jumping from foot to foot with joyous anticipation, desperate to tell his father the day's news.

"I found this little boy, and he was crying because he had lost one of his special toys. And then came along these older boys, who had said that the little boy-his name was Gary-had accused them of stealing it, and had then taken their coins and hidden them." Ricardo started, his voice coming out in airy breaths, yet filled with triumph. "But then, I saw one of the boy's hands, which had little specks of sandy dirt in the fingernails, which you can only find in the dirt near where all the big tree stumps are. It was also where the boys had been sitting. And then, when we got to the spot, I found out that they had also stolen lots of other things. So, I stopped them, and the big boys got in trouble, and Gary got his toy back, and-"

A large laugh paused Ricardo's breathless dialogue, his father's smile grown even larger. Crouching down so the two were at equal eye level to each other, Mario ruffled his son's wavy brown hair. "Right on the money, again Ricardo. If you keep this up, you might even be better than your old man."

"I see you have quite a smart boy on your hands, Mario." Ricardo looked up, his eyes soon meeting those of the man whom he'd seen speaking to his father earlier. It was a policeman, he knew that quite clearly, and from the number of badges he was wearing, his tightly polished hat and carefully crafted moustache, Ricardo could tell that this man was a few ranks lower than his father.

"Ricardo, this is Inspector McGinnity. We work closely at the Police Department together," Mario said, unaware of his son's silent deductions. "You may have seen him around my office a few times when I had you in to help me with some of my cases. Frank, this is my son, Ricardo."

The young boy extended his hand out to the Inspector, just like he had seen his father doing on many formal occasions to new acquaintances. "It is very nice to meet you, Inspector. I hope one day we may meet again when you require my services in a particularly tricky crime."

Inspector McGinnity smiled, looking across to Mario and then back to Ricardo. Taking the confident boy's hand, he shook it firmly, the spark of potential in the child's eyes so very familiar.

"I look forward to it."

For all who knew Mario Sponetti, from those who noticed the increased stress lines on his old worn head to the people closest to him that he spent longer and longer apart from as time went on, all learnt that his work was his life, and that it would only end when he did. He was a man who has dedicated his career to helping others, and while to some he often seemed refined and stern, inside he held the heart, warmth and joy of a father and husband. In his life he had one singular moral, which seemed to the surprise of many to lead to his untimely demise:

No case left cold. No lead left untouched.

And no heart left unsolved.

It was the hands of a unknown criminal that the Police Chief had taken one bullet too many, saving the lives of many innocent civilians in the process during a bank robbery gone wrong. It was an ending that had shocked the entire city, especially the police force. They had been on the case of a rogue group of teenage gangsters for months, their Chief burying himself right into its most dangerous waters. The day that his life had ended was meant to be the end of the line for the crooks, but one stray bullet changed everything, and left one man dead, while the other escaped the police without a trace of evidence.

His funeral on the other hand, had been no surprise. It was attended by almost the entire city, thousands of people and families having known personally or had their lives touched by the work of the late police chief. The ceremony had been a celebration of a man who was modern, meticulous and more than anyone could ever be. As Mario's coffin was carried out, the snow covered church was silent, the physical memory of Mario departing them all for the last time.

Frank McGinnity readjusted his police hat, watching as the crowd began to disperse into smaller conversation. His navy blue umbrella stood tall as a light shower started to emerge, people slowing retreating to their cars or back into the church. As he surveyed the area, his gaze landed upon three familiar faces, surprisingly alone on this significant occasion, all still standing where Mario's coffin had been placed into the hearse quite some while ago.

"No lady such as yourself should be battered by this cursed weather. Those were some of his most famous words, if I recall correctly," he told her, the inspector moderately making his way to the older lady's side, offering his large umbrella to shield the family from the arriving rain. As she took it, Frank took off his hat, sombrely. "My condolences again, Ms Sponetti, to you and your entire family from both myself and the entire police department. Your late husband was a good man, and the whole city will feel his absence as much as we feel it now."

Nina Sponnetti, Mario's now widowed wife, put on her best smile, the usually overly bubbly lady now as solemn as the long black lace dress she currently wore. "Thank you, Inspector McGinnity. Your force has done so much for our family, and even after his death, you still continue to. I know Mario was honoured to have known such brave men like yourself."

Nodding, Frank looked to the two children beside Nina. Huddled next to her in the rain and cold was her young daughter, six year old Charlotte's usually sunny blonde hair hidden by her black woollen hat. Her son Ricardo, now twelve years old, stood a few steps away, the back of his slightly too-large suit turned towards the group.

"I know this a hard time for all of us," he continued, directing his attention Ricardo, as he put his hand on the shorter boy's shoulder. "No one will ever replace your heroic father, but I and the rest of his force are here to support you, your sister and your mother. Remember, if there is anything you need, please-"

"Shut up!" Ricardo shouted, startling his mother and sister. His face was now turned to meet the Inspector's, his blue eyes filled to the brim with boiling emotions. "You don't care about me, or my father! All you care about is getting a bigger paycheck and a promotion. If you really cared about my father, you would be doing your jobs right, and finding the man who killed my dad. You're all cowards! I hate you!"

"Ricardo!" Nina said, sharply. As she tried to grab her son, Ricardo ran through his mother and sister, brushing them apart. Hastily, the young boy retreated to the back side of the church's exterior, roughly colliding with people who were equally shocked at the unfolding scene. Tears returning, his sister Charlotte followed after him, leaving his mother and Frank alone.

It took a short while for Nina to speak again, her son's outburst greatly frightening the now single mother. "I deeply apologise, Inspector. Mario's passing; it has taken quite a toll on Ricardo. He grows more distance and his temperament worsens every passing day- I feel that soon I may no longer be able to protect him, and that I could lose him entirely." She turned to Frank, her face now displaying an expression of regret. "I know that it will hurt him, but I feel that we must cut off all links between your force and our family, so that we will be able to grieve and rectify our family once again. All his files and work have already been given to your department, which you can use as you see fit. I have only done this in my family's best interests- you must understand this, Inspector."

Frank nodded, understanding the woman's situation all too well. He shook Nina's hand once again, and upon tipping his hat to her, he departed the church. Yet before he left, his eyes caught glimpse of Ricardo, the twelve year old staring at him with a look of pure grief and resentment from the shadows of a distant tree. He almost went back, the Inspector longing to make amends with this curious boy, but just as he gained the thought, Ricardo was gone, disappearing from view just as quickly as he had arrived.

"Chief McGinnity, sir. There's someone demanding to see you."

Frank barely looked up from his newspaper, unconcerned at the new arrival to his office. Today had been another long day for the police chief, their biggest case in months running dry with evidence, and with their once small city now booming, it was getting harder for the chief to even pin down a simple suspect to the crime. As he swallowed the last part of his cinnamon donut, he fully focused his attention on the young, scrawny female in front of him.

"Alright," he grunted, folding his newspaper and tossing it upon one of the teetering piles on his file-flooded desk. "Just get them a coffee and tell them I'm not available for the next week. And get me one while you're at it, and a pastry too. Oh, I just remembered- the floors need cleaning, and the windows. I expect that done before the end of the day, kid."

Mary Bingham suppressed a groan, instead straightening her posture as she continued to stare at the police chief. She had only just recently, and not without complications, received this provisional job under the police chief, and already her tongue was sore from the amount of times she had been forced to bite it. "Sir, I don't think you understand. This fellow; he says he knows some information about the recent case of Jefferson's murder. I think that the best course of action would be to interview him, get the facts from him immediately, and-"

Her firm speech was interrupted brutally by an abrupt collection of raised voice coming from behind Frank's office, both people in the room flinching, with the police chief wildly getting to his feet and striding towards the newly formed ruckus. As he pushed his way through the gathering crowd of officers, Mary close behind him, he gained view of the source of the ruckus, placed right at the entrance to the police station. He arrived just as an unknown figure straightened his coat, one of the officers seen conversing with him just finishing cursing at the stranger before storming off in disgust through the crowd.

The figure himself was quite tall, the man's height emphasized by his slightly stick-like figure and broad shoulders. With his grey trilby, black suit and dark wool coat, he held the appearance of the typical magazine detective, yet it was his proud, confident and majestic stance which really made him stand out against the roughly police officers. When the mysterious figure turned to face the now feeble Police Chief, he revealed a face harsh, yet overweeningly charming and curious, his face seemingly ageless with experience, passion and also adversity.

"I take it you must be the Police Chief," the man said, quickly continuing before Frank had a chance to open his mouth. "I must say, from a first impression, your staff could do with some immediate sorting. I only happened to walk through the door to find one of your senior inspector's is in fact a compulsive gambler and black market trader. Who knows what I would have found out if I had even given this joint a proper look round."

As the Police Chief's face started to turn a deep shade of red, the older man's fist tightening at his side, his intern continued to look at the mysterious and overwhelmingly brave man in awe. "I did try and contact your department earlier in the week, and was starting to believe that this place had in fact shut down. That is, until I came across your newest employee." The man turned to Mary, giving her a polite smile. "It's good to know someone in this shambles of an institute has some form of smarts about them. A shame I can't say that about your 'proper officers'."

Mary suppressed a gasp of admiration, Frank's temper exploding into the face of the strange man. "Now, listen here, you big shot! I don't care who you think you are, or how smart you think you look as you try and intimidate my officers. This is no place for amateur blowhards- not in this police department and not in my city. Whoever you work for, I'm not takin' any interviews on the case. This is confidential information, so why don't you run back home to your wife and leave the crime solving job to the professionals?"

Taking off his hat, the man turned back to Frank, unfazed by the Police Chief's futile attempt of intimidation. "You must have mistaken me. I am no reporter, nor am I your simple gentleman. I am in fact a specialist in the detection business, having solved some of the biggest and most peculiar unsolved cases that resided in your department's rubbish tip of an archive in the past two years, and also felt the brunt of them."

"This particular case which you are struggling to find a lead too…the man identified as Hubert Lexington, who was murdered in the thick of night while waiting for a taxi outside the Columbus Street Hotel. If you hadn't of hastily interrupted me, then I could have swiftly told you that it was his brother, Gregory who killed him. Thought, it was Hubert's wife who coordinated the entire operation- after her surgery following a failed pregnancy, she wouldn't have had the ability to commit the murder. So, she coordinated a scenario, with Gregory committing the murder under classical west European assassin tactic he learn while he was training there in a failed, covered up operation for the retired war forces. Hubert's wife would get the life insurance, and they could gamble it all away at the nearby bar run by the Crayfishes, which Gregory has been a financial sponsor of after a rather bloody incident of his uncle's forty years ago. I would imagine if you went there this very minute, you would find Gregory gambling away his brother's life insurance, with Hubert's wife, the very woman that inspector I made break out in some abusive form of the English language is having an affair with, sitting right beside him. That last part wasn't a difficult leap, considering the cufflinks he was wearing, most likely a gift from her, which happen to be a stolen, one of a kind item belonging to Hubert's very own jewellery empire. "

Stepping forward to Frank, he put his gloved hands in his coat pockets, straightening his posture even further so he towered over the Police Chief. "I didn't come here for a fight, McGinnity. But then again, I thought your job was supposed to clean up the city, not brush the dirt under its already worn carpet. If I were you, Chief, I would start taking your legacy seriously, and instead of hiring people who can get you a free drink at the bar, hire and recognise those who can get your criminals behind bars once and for all. And most of all, honour the work this department and its people have done in the name of justice."

At his final words, Frank's rage diminished, his mouth gaping from both the extremely personal remark and the man's complex analysis of the case. Meanwhile, while as shocked as her boss, Mary's eyes grew soft, seeing the previously dominant man in front of her pulling back slightly, the raw grief in his face so evident. This confused Mary even further, now gaining the sneaking suspicion that this man was far from a stranger, to both herself and the Police Chief. Yet, it seemed that only this fellow realised his connection to them, or at least acknowledged it.

"If you do require my assistance or knowledge on any matter which may have arisen again," the stranger continued, his hand going into his suit pocket, quickly taking out a small business card and giving it to Mary. "You know where to find me." Putting his hat back on, giving a small tip and wink to the stunned, and presently blushing junior detective. He soon left the police station, the grand swish of his coat the last thing that any of the officers saw of him.

It took a while before anyone could react, most hastily scuttling back to their offices and to their respective jobs, fearful of the reaction of their still red Police Chief. Mary was the only one to remain calm, the young girl remaining by Frank's side, as if she was waiting for him to dismiss her. When he didn't, she handed him the man's card, before leisurely walking through the office to get her boss the strongest coffee she could possibly make.

Frank remained staring at the door leading out into the city, where the plucky young man had exited, for some time afterward. Slowly, his gaze managed to move down to the card which Mary had placed in his uniform pocket, the Police Chief carefully sliding it out, part of him not surprised, but rather apprehensive, by the message which was typed onto it.

Rick Sponetti, Private Detective. –'No case left cold. No lead left untouched. No heart left unsolved.'