Ma Beagle's Blues

Monk was the first one in the house. He saw a family portrait on the wooden walls. He saw Big Time, Burger, Bouncer, Bankjob, Bugle and Baby Face, with Ma Beagle smiling in the center. Wanted posters of other family members also graced the living room. But the calls for help were coming from the kitchen.

He went through the door and found Ma Beagle, an old dog-faced woman in red jacket and dress, sporting a flower in her hat, ropes tied firmly in the usual strategic areas, and a furious expression.

"Don't just stand there," she ordered Monk. "Let me loose."

Monk wondered if it was a good idea. He quickly glanced around the kitchen. He was 90 percent sure it wasn't a trap. But then, he was 65 percent sure that Ma Beagle would try to escape once he let her go. Contrariwise, he was also 75 percent sure that if he let Ma Beagle loose, she's be more likely to cooperate. He was also 95 percent sure that it would be the decent thing to do. Morever, he was 100 percent sure that a confession while being physically tied to a chair was inadmissable in court.

While Monk was impaired by his indecisiveness, the others entered the room.

"Scrooge," spat Ma Beagle. "And his idiot pilot."

"He's no longer my pilot," McDuck fumed. "And what loathsome thing have you done to my precious money?"

"I ain't got your dough, Scroogie," Ma Beagle stated. "Will someone untie me?"

Disher obliged, and got a knuckle sandwich for his trouble.

"Now where are my boys?" she asked, angrily.

"If we knew where your larcenous litter was, we'd be after them already," McDuck told her.

"I want to see them right now!" screamed Ma Beagle. "I bet it was you who pulled that trick on me. I want them back!"

"We don't know where the Beagle Boys are," Disher repeated.

Sharona rolled her eyes.

"Well I want them back!" Ma Beagle yelled. To herself, she muttered. You say your loot's gone. Then she must of took it."

"Who?" asked Doofus.

"Daisy Duck?" guessed Launchpad.

"Why Daisy Duck?" McDuck asked him.

"I don't know, I never met her. It could be her just as well as anybody else."

"Why did I ever hire him?" sighed McDuck, to noone in particular.

"Because he's the best, the bravest . . . " started Doofus."

"Will you be quiet about your helter-skelter hero," McDuck responded.

"He's not the worst flyer . . ." Sharona started.

"Yes he is," interrupted Disher.

"I bet I crashed more planes than you've gave out tickets," Launchpad countered.

"Will everyone listen to me!" Ma Beagle screeched, right into Monk's ear.

This went on for a couple minutes.

After rubbing his right ear (then the left, to be even), Monk spent his time taking in the crime scene. No sign of money, no marks on the floor or table indicating any coins had been there. Ma Beagle was definitely not involved. There were signs of a struggle. Not much of one, whoever she was had won the Beagle Boys over to her side, against their very own mother. He was 60 percent sure that it must of been a very attractive young girl. He smelled the faint scent of a perfume, he presumed that it was 'Black Magic.' Trudy wore it on their first date. Besides, the young girl theory was, of course, the most reasonable answer. But things hadn't been that reasonable lately.

But how many boys were there? Monk looked at the table. Seven tin bowls, cleaned up. Could it be that Big Time, Burger, Bouncer, Bank Job, Bugle, and Baby Face had all went against their mother.

There was no sign indicating Mega Bytes involvement. No electronics anywhere. If Bomber had shown up, there would likely be an aero-plane nearby. Nothing, even during Launchpad's crash Monk had scouted the territory. No motorcycles, that ruled out Biker Beagle. Other Beagles would necessitate the presence of a car, so they couldn't of been there. It was just Ma Beagle and her seven favorite boys.

Monk was 90 percent sure that Ma Beagle would talk. She wanted her gang back, with or without McDucks money. Having her brood revolt against her was worse than losing the chance to get three cubic acres of money. She was Ma Beagle, and her boys had better watch out.

"Everybody!" tried Monk. "Can you pay attention?" I have a plan."

The crowd argued on.

"Hey, is your boss saying something?" Launchpad asked Sharona.

Sharona turned to Monk.

"Adrian?" she asked kindly.

"I have . . . a plan, what to do," Monk repeated, hesitantly.

Sharona glared at the others.

"ADRIAN KNOWS WHAT TO DO," she yelled.

McDuck payed attention. Doofus and Disher stopped shouting.

"Speak up laddie?"

"I don't want to listen to the milquetoast," Ma Beagle complained. "I want my . . . ."

"QUIET," yelled Launchpad.

Ma Beagle pouted.

"Ma Beagle, whoever has your boys," explained Monk, "has Mr. McDuck's money."

"That's supposed to be a secret," Disher objected.

"I already told her, you numbskull," McDuck interrupted.

"Let the milquetoast speak!" Ma Beagle put in.

"I can get your gang back, if you help us recover Mr. McDuck's money."

"WHAT?" shouted McDuck, pulling out some feathers, and whacking the nearest person to him (Disher) with his cane. That thieving hag? Work with her, to get back my money?"

Disher rubbed the lump on his head.

"Quiet Scroogie," Ma Beagle objected. "He's right. I can get your cash anytime I want. I want my boys back from that imposter!"

"Impost who?" asked Launchpad.

"Never mind," muttered McDuck.

"Sit down in the living room," said Ma Beagle, putting on a show of being hospitable. "I'll give you some of the desserts I made for my boys who are still in the slammer. They'd spoil if I mailed them now, so now I might as well give them to you."

"Great!" exclaimed Doofus.

"What did you put in them?" Sharona replied, "Cyanide."

"I WAS GIVING THEM TO MY BOYS! Do you think I'd hand them poison."

"Trust her, lassie," observed McDuck. "I know what she puts in her cantankerous cakes, and it's anything but poison. Besides, I'm going to watch her so she does not try to escape."

Monk, Sharona, Launchpad, Doofus and Disher all had a seat on the worn-out living room chesterfield. Monk, of course, felt very uncomfortable.

At last, Ma Beagle came out with a tray of messy desserts. She was followed by Scrooge McDuck. who came out with a exasperated expression.

Monk took the least messy of them, what Ma Beagle called a 'Raspberry Revolver Pie.' Sharona took the 'Strawberry Short File Cake.' Launchpad had the 'Dig-out Dutch Chocolate Surprise.' Doofus took the 'Tapioca Tommy-Gun Turnip Pudding,' and Disher eagerly grabbed the 'Huckleberry Hand-Grenade Cheese-Cake.' McDuck, ever so cautiously, took one of the colossal 'Blueberry bran-bomb muffins."

"Are you sure that Doofus should have the pudding?" McDuck asked Ma Beagle.

McDuck sat down, and began to carefully nibble the edges of the muffin.

"He doesn't know how to fire it," she said, sitting on an armchair, "Anyway want to hear my story, or don't you."

"Yes, we'd appreciate it," said Sharona, starting on her cake.

"I broke all seven of them out of the big house for my birthday," Ma Beagle bragged, pointing at the Beagle family portrait (Monk and Disher fought the urge to arrest her). "It was like a reunion, all seven of them home at once. I could of gone. . . insane putting up with the goofs! Big Time and Bank Job arguing about who the leader was. Bouncer and Baggy acting the stupidest, because, of course, they both are. Burger eating me out of house an home. Bugle annoying me with his stupid bongo drums. Baby Face being, generally, underfoot. It was . . . heavenly."

"Yowtch!" screamed Launchpad, who had almost busted his beak biting into a shovel. The handle subsequently crashed into his head.

"Oh excuse me," apologized Ma Beagle. "How did that get in there?'

"I could only imagine," muttered McDuck.

Monk looked dubiously at his, admittedly delicious Raspberry Revolver Pie.

"It doesn't make sense," he thought. "Why would she put it in a pie? It'd never pass a metal detector."

He continued eating neatly on.

"Then she came here one day, just after my boy had finished supper. They were on their latest plan to rob Scrooge's money, and I was giving my imput. More like the whole plan, really."

"We're all so proud of you," sneered McDuck, who had eaten the blueberry bran and had wisely decided not bite the bomb.

"Then she came," spat Ma Beagle.

"You already covered that," said Sharona.

With a clang, she bit into a metal file. She quickly threw it over her shoulder.

"Who is she?" asked Monk. "Ugh . . . wipe, wipe, wipe, wipe."

Sharona handed him several wipes.

He had bit the bullet, one of six in fact, that went along with the Colt revolver Ma Beagle had baked into the pie. He removed it from the final piece of pie, wiped it, and placed it gently on the table. Then he wiped his face, and continued to gag.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Ma Beagle went on, again. "How . . . "

Monk rushed the washroom, and proceeded to wash out his mouth.

"Wait for the lad to return," McDuck fumed. "At least I'm not paying him by the hour."

Two minutes later

"I'll get him," Sharona sighed. "Adrian? Adrian? Your wasting time."

A half minute later

"I'm finished," announced Doofus, who had picked the machine gun clean.

"Here, have Mr. M's pie," offered Launchpad, still nursing his beak. "Something tells me he's not going to eat it."

"Can I have your cake too?" asked Doofus.

"Nm, that's fwor me," chewed Disher, grabbing it.

He neglected his Huckleberry Hand-Grenade Cheese-Cake, to gulp down the rest of the Dig-out Dutch Chocolate Surprise.

"Aw," sighed Doofus.

"Just what I need," complained Scrooge, consulting his watch. "Two human garbage disposals, and a defunct detective wasting my time.

"Hey!" shouted Ma Beagle, "Is that a cut at my cooking?"

One minute later

Monk finally returned, to see Ma Beagle and Scrooge McDuck fuming, and Disher and Doofus both eating with their mouths full.

Sharona gave him the glare, and his seat.

"Who is she?" Monk asked her.

"She is me," Ma Beagle announced.

"Huhm?" garbled Disher, eating the last morsel of the Dig-Out Dutch Chocolate Surprise.

"My double," the old woman sobbed. "She told my boys she was the one. She then challenged me to a meanness contest. And she won! My boys tied me up, and left with her on some scheme to steal McDuck's moolah."

"Burst me bagpipes," said Scrooge sarcastically.

"One more question," Monk asked. "Does Burger like McDuck chocolate bars?'

"He likes everything," Ma Beagle replied.

"Well, this led us nowhere. What do we do now?" McDuck asked, .

"Look up Glomgold," Monk answered. "He's the one most likely to hire someone to impersonate Ma Beagle, to set up a plan to rob the money bin. But it doesn't add up. There's something more to this case."

"I'll tell you why it doesn't add up, you blithering idiot," McDuck objected. "She's fed you a pack of lies."

"Adrian knows what he's doing," Sharona put in.

Monk explained his observations to McDuck, his theory about the woman, and how it could explain the presence of another Ma Beagle."

"Well, laddy," McDuck replied, "You may be right. But if your not . . . ."

"It should be Glomgold," Monk replied. "Still, why would he need to have someone impersonate Ma Beagle? He could strike a deal with the Beagle Boys without resorted to that. Of course, it could have meant paying them himself. But something's wrong. I'm 70 percent sure there's more to it. I haven't solved the case yet."

"Well, you said he probably has it," Sharona told him.

"Then question him," McDuck told them. "Tonight you can stay at me mansion. That way you won't be able to charge me exorbitant motel fees. And if you don't solve the case, it'll mean I can charge you three $200 a night."

"Why do we have to pay for Disher?" Sharona objected.

"Well take it," said Monk.

Sharona rolled her eyes.

"Lieutenant Disher's choking!" exclaimed Doofus, suddenly. "Launchpad, you've got to save him."

Disher was blue in the face. He had eaten all of his huckleberry hand grenade cheesecake, including the hand grenade. It was now stuck in his throat.

Sharona rushed over and performed the hymelick maneuver.

Disher coughed off the grenade, and his face went from blue to red.

"Where's the pin?" asked McDuck.

"I swallowed it," groaned Disher.

Monk raced to the grenade, carried it into the kitchen, and placed it neatly in the refrigerator. He and the others hit the floor in the living room.

"BANG!

The fridge was ruined, and various weaponry and desserts were scattered all over the kitchen, as well as the living room.

Five minutes later

"I expect you to pay for that fridge, copper!" said Ma Beagle, surveying the damage.

"I better call Duckworth to drive us home," spat McDuck, staring at Disher. "Before we have yet another incident."

"Why get Duckworth?" asked Launchpad. "I can fly you home."

Monk felt faint.

"I fired you, remember," observed Mr. McDuck.

"Shoot, I forgot," Launchpad said, dejected. "Come on Doofus."

The two of them went outside, and took off in the biplane, scraping some trees in route.

"Good riddance," fumed Mr. McDuck. "Fortunately I own an oil company, so we can drive back. Otherwise all three of us would have to take a twenty mile hike over these hills."

"I'm not paying for your phone call, Scrooge," Ma Beagle responded. "Even though we're temporarily working together, you'll have to cough up a quarter."

Scrooge looked at Monk, Monk looked at Sharona, Sharona produced the quarter. And gave them her glare.