Little Bobby Snooks was fond of his books,
And loved by his usher and master;
But naughty Jack Spry, he got a black eye,
And carries his nose in a plaster.
"What are you thinking about Bones?" Booth asked as they strolled down the street, choosing to walk instead of drive, in the hopes of taking in the neighbourhood and talking to some locals.
"I was wondering if there is any chance we will be here around eight." She replied.
"Why?"
"I think we should talk to Willie Winky."
"You want to see him run in his nightgown." Booth clarified jokingly.
She nodded seriously. "Maybe we should bring Angela in as well. She would enjoy that."
"Actually." Booth mused, suddenly serious. "That might be a good idea. Tell her to bring Hodgins as well."
Brennan quickly phoned, and was just putting her phone back in her purse when a child ran up to them.
"Are you here about Peter Piper?" he asked breathlessly.
"Yes." Booth replied. "What's your name?"
"I'm Bobby. Bobby Snooks."
"Do you read lots of books, Bobby?" Booth asked casually.
The boy smiled. "Yes, I love to read. I've read all your books." He said to Brennan, who looked down at him stunned.
"You must be a very good reader." She finally announced. "They're not meant for children."
The boy shrugged. "That's what Jack said."
"Who is Jack?" Brennan asked.
"Jack Spry, he's my best friend, he's very naughty. That's him over there, with the broken nose." He pointed to a kid hanging a fake spider in a tree. "We saw him last you know."
"Really? Peter Piper, you mean?" Booth smiled.
"Yup. He went off with the fat man of Bombay." Bobby said seriously. "About nine o'clock, after his argument with Miss Contrary."
"Why weren't you in bed?"
"Just cause Wee Willie says so, doesn't mean I have to go bed. He's not my parent." The boy sniffed in indignation.
"Who are your parents?" Brennan asked curiously.
"Tommy Snooks and Bessy Brooks of course." Bobby answered. "We live over there, next to Jack Jingle."
As Tommy Snooks and Bessy Brooks
Were walking out one Sunday,
Says Tommy Snooks to Bessy Brooks,
"Wilt marry me on Monday?"
~MG~
Jack Spratt could eat no fat, his wife could eat no lean..
And so between them both you see, they licked the platter clean.
Brennan watched Bobby run away as a tiny woman walked under the tree with Jack's spider in it.
There was a shriek, and then a string of curse words that made Booth blush.
"Who is THAT?" Brennan asked, as Booth grabbed her by the arm and pulled her down the road.
"My guess, is Miss Muffet." Booth shook his head.
Brennan looked impressed. "She can really curse!"
"Having spiders dropped on you your entire life will do that, I suppose." Booth checked his watch. "I wonder if Georgie knows anything about the fat man of Bombay, and his pipe."
"His pipe?"
"The fat man of Bombay smokes a pipe."
"How do you know?"
Booth rolled his eyes. "You're really something else Bones."
"Thank you." She smiled.
They trudged along until they came to a fat man leaning on his gate.
"Sir, Could you tell me which house belongs to Tommy Tittlemouse?" Booth asked.
"Sure, but he ain't home." The man chuckled. "He'll be out poaching fish. Better off to wait till supper, then he'll come home to fry them up."
Booth sighed. "And you are?"
"Jack Horner."
Brennan reached out and pinched Booth.
He winced. "Do you know anything about the death of Peter Piper, sir?"
"Nope." Jack huffed. "I was away that week, a plum pudding contest in Wisconsin." He leered at Brennan. "I was the judge."
"Apparently." Brennan said, looking at his girth.
The man chortled. "Why don't you go talk to Jack Jingle? Over there? His wife's brother was visiting, he sells Gin. He drops in once a month or so. He was chummy with Piper."
"Gin?" Booth grinned. "Bombay Sapphire?"
Jack Horner nodded and winked.
"Well, that's good to know." Booth said to Brennan as they strolled away towards the Jingle residence.
"So what's the story about Jack Jingle?" Brennan mused. "I assume by the look on your face that he has a rhyme as well?"
"Little Jack Jingle,
He used to live single;
But When he got tired of this kind of life,
He left off being single and lived with his wife.
Now what do you think of little Jack Jingle?
Before he was married he used to live single." Booth whispered quickly.
Brennan nodded. "Very logical of him."
Booth stared at her. "So what? When you get tired of being alone, you'll get married?"
Brennan shrugged. "You don't have to get married to live with someone. I've done that before."
His jaw dropped. "What?"
"Pete." Brennan remembered. "Nothing we ever did was messy. Very, very dull. And he knew nothing about me." She reached out and rang the doorbell of the house they were now standing in front of.
The door opened, and a thin man stood in front of them.
"Jack Jingle?" Booth questioned.
The man shook his head. "Jack Spratt. Jingle lives in back. One of those hidden duplexes." He sighed. A very large woman with blonde hair and rosy cheeks came into view behind him. "Who is it?"
"Someone for Jingle." He called back., before his eyes widened. "Is this about Peter Piper?"
"Did you know him?" Brennan asked.
"Just to talk to. Bought some pickled peppers from him. Nice guy."
"Right, well.." Booth stepped back. "Thanks."
The door closed.
They walked around the side of the house and came face to face with a pretty woman with her hair in ringlets.
"Hi. I'm Bo Peep. Are you looking for me?" She smiled.
"Are you married to Jack Jingle, and the sister of the Gin salesman?" Brennan responded, irritated that these women were so pretty.
"I am."
"Has Georgie ever kissed you?"
"Not for years. He's such a player. A real fear of commitment that one." Bo Peep said sweetly.
"Where is Jack?" Booth interrupted.
"Feeding the sheep. I'll get him to call you. We have them in a paddock at a farm a few miles away." She took the card Booth held out, and walked away.
"This just gets weirder and weirder." Booth muttered.
"One of these people pickled Peter Piper." Brennan reminded him.
"If I were him, I might want to pickle myself too."
"On Gin?"
Booth's eyes widened. "We should get Cam to run a tox screen!"
There was a fat man of Bombay,
Who was smoking one sunshiny day;
When a bird called a snipe
Flew away with his pipe,
Which vexed the fat man of Bombay