"The turkey, Mr. Holmes! The turkey!" Cyrus Peterson wheezed as the wind sucked the trailer door shut behind him with a rickety bang.
"Yeah? What about it? Has the microwave brought it back to life, and it's got your wife cornered by the instant grits?" Holmes twisted around in the LazyBoy so he could get a good look at the man's face. He always liked it when people got all excited and wheezy like that.
"Look! Look at this! Look what my wife found hidden in the giblets!" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a brilliant, shiny blue stone, about the size of a bottle cap, but with the unmistakable image of Elvis Presley twinkling like a lightning bug in the palm of his hand.
Holmes sat bolt upright. "Holy crap, Peterson! This is a real big deal, man! Do you know what this is?"
"Not really," said Peterson. "A diamond maybe. Some kind of precious stone. I bit it to see if it was real and I think I chipped a tooth."
"Not just a precious stone. The precious stone. It's the King of all precious stones!"
"It can't be!" I exclaimed. "Not Tammy Faye Whinette's Blue Garfunkel!"
Holmes and Peterson gaped at me, then took a step back.
"Geez, Bubba, calm down. It's the Garfunkel alright. I can tell by the size and color, and of course by the image of Elvis. It's been on the radio every day, and the newspaper says there's a $1,000.00 reward for its return. I'm bettin' it's worth a whole lot more than that."
"A grand! Great God almighty!" Peterson plopped down on the settee, just missing a hole in the Naugahyde and a protruding britches-ripping spring. He sat there with his eyes bugged out, just staring at us.
"That's the posted reward, and I'll bet Tammy Faye would be willing to pay a lot more to get this gem back without any embarrassing drama."
I remarked, "If I remember right, it was lost at the Blue Bird Motel."
"Yep. Less than a week ago. 'Little John' Horner, who works at the Blue Bird's RV Wash and Vacuum Service Center, was accused of taking the stone from the glove box of Tammy Faye's pink Pace Arrow. The evidence against him is so strong, that he's been locked up in the county jail ever since." Holmes put on the bulldog mitt and shuffled through a pile of newspapers. Directly, he pulled out one of the papers, smoothed it out on the coffee table, and read the article:
"'The infamous Blue Garfunkel was stolen from country music legend Tammy Faye Whinette yesterday. It disappeared from the glove compartment of the singer's 30-foot pink Pace Arrow while it was being washed and vacuumed. 'Little John' Horner, 19, was arrested at the scene after being identified as the only possible suspect.
Jimmy 'Red' Ryder, bellman and third-shift fry cook at the Blue Bird Diner, told officials he noticed the teenager coming out of the RV, 'looking mighty suspicious-like.' Based on the description provided by Ryder and the fact that Horner had an outstanding warrant for driving 45 miles per hour in a 35 zone, Sheriff Bradstreet acted swiftly to arrest the suspect.
'Since he was off-duty and had gone home for supper, we had no choice but to classify Horner as a fugitive,' Bradstreet said. 'Hell, we didn't know if he had really gone home or not. All I know is it was a real serious business. They called me out in the middle of Bassmasters.'
Horner was unavailable for comment, because he fainted dead away when told he was being arrested for the theft. The sheriff said that when asked about the missing gem, all Horner would say was, 'What the hell is a Blue Garfunkel?' and 'Why's it called a Garfunkel if it's got Elvis's face?'
'He was being a smart-ass,' Bradstreet continued. 'So I threw him in the slammer. That boy's gotta learn one way or t'other that I don't take no lip in my jail.'"
"Huh. So much for 'thorough investigation'," Holmes said thoughtfully as he tossed aside the paper and the bulldog mitt. "All we gotta do now is figure out what happened between the open glove box and the turkey giblets. Bubba, it looks like our little cogitatin' game has gone from passin' time to fightin' crime! Here we got Elvis, Elvis was in the turkey, and the turkey came from Hank Baker, who just does what Mama says. Now we gotta get serious about findin' this guy and seein' what he has to do with it. The easiest way to find him is to let him know have his stuff. I reckon the first thing I'll do is put a note on the bulletin board at the Piggly-Wiggly."
"What are you gonna say?"
"Hand me a pencil and that 'You Just Won a Million Dollars' envelope, Bubba. Now then. 'Mr. Hank Baker – looks like you lost your cap and turkey in front of this store. Come by the Baker Street Bayou Trailer Park and Laundromat, Space 221B, after supper tonight, and claim them."
"That oughta do it," I nodded.
"Yeah," said Peterson. "But how you gonna make sure he sees it?"
"Well, he's already in trouble with Mama for losing his cap. The bird was probably the big surprise he'd planned to get back onto her good side, so he's got to be keeping an eye out for news about it. And where else would he look but the place where he lost it in the first place? And since I put his name on the note, anyone who knows him will tell him about it. Here, Peterson, go stick this up on the board at the store."
"What store?"
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Peterson. You've been hanging around Bubba too long. The Piggly-Wiggly! The one you found the stuff at! It's the only one in town, for cryin' out loud."
"Right," Peterson's cheeks pinked up a bit. "Uh… what you gonna do about the Garfunkel?"
"Don't you worry about that. I'll keep it here, safe as sardines in a can. By the way, Peterson, pick me up another turkey while you're at the store. Even if it's a self-bastin' Butterball, it's only right that we have one to give Baker to replace what you're about to eat."
After Peterson had pulled out of the trailer park, Holmes grabbed the stone and held it up to the light. "This is something, ain't it? Just look at the way Elvis sparkles. That's the reason it was stolen, you know. All good stones have something special that makes people just have to have 'em. It's the work of the devil, I tell you. The big, older ones go back centuries, and have lots of stories of murder and mayhem attached to 'em. This stone is less than forty years old, and I'll bet real money it's well on its way to a checkered past."
He handed me the stone, and something about the way Elvis was curling his lip made me want to throw it out the window. It was creepy.
"It was discovered by Eugene Garfunkel, proprietor of the Passin' Thru Convenience Store and Wedding Chapel in Las Vegas. He was heating up a Big Bean burrito in the store's microwave when, suddenly, there was a huge explosion that blew his butt all the way over to the pork rinds. When he came to, there was a five-foot crater where the microwave used to be, and when he looked in the hole, he saw the faint blue twinkle in Elvis's eyes. The strangest thing about this whole incident, the story goes, is that the burrito exploded at the exact instant the King himself passed away on the throne.
Tammy Faye picked it up at auction when Garfunkel needed to raise money to get the hole fixed in his floor. She's been claiming it's the reason for her comeback. So the question is, who would risk prison time and the curse of a pissed-off big-haired country western singer for this shiny little rock? I'll hide it in the Folger's can until it's time to let Miss Whinette know we've found Elvis."
"So, you think this Horner fella is innocent?"
"Beats me. Could be."
"Do you figure that the other guy has something to do with it?"
"Baker? Nah. I have a feeling that Hank Baker hasn't got a clue that his turkey was worth a whole bunch of Mama caps. I'll know for sure when he comes around to claim his stuff."
"So what are you gonna do in the meantime?"
"Take a nap, I suppose."
"In that case, I'll be moseying along. I got my doctorin' to do; lance a couple of boils on the butt of humanity. If it's okay with you, though, I'll come back around this evening. I want to see for myself how this all turns out."
"Come on back in time for supper. It's two-for-one pizza night at Mrs. Hudson's Pizza Parlor and Beauty Salon. I'll ask 'em to send over a couple of double-deluxe meat-eater's specials for us. I'll get her to take a close look at the Jimmy Dean's sausage, just in case there's any more surprises hidden in food items today."