Orchard Press Online
Mystery Magazine
June 2003
Foul
Mouthed
a short-short story
by Dorothy Baughman
Copyright © 2003 Dorothy Baughman. All rights reserved.
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Dorothy Baughman has been married 42 years, has three children and four grandchildren, and lives in Eclectic, Alabama. She has been a freelance writer for over 25 years and has taught a workshop at Samford University for the Alabama Writers' Conclave. Dorothy's writing has appeared in numerous publications, including Women's Circle, Harper's Weekly, Dogwood Tales, Alabama Living and Vermont Ink. Her mystery romance novels include The Ghost of Aronov Point, Avalon 1980; The Secret of Montoya Mission, Avalon 1981; Icy Terror, Avalon 1984; and Secret Wishes, Secret Fears, Avalon, 1987. |
Walter Cummings laughed to himself. Old Pop Bryant always tried to poor mouth about his money. Walter knew he kept lots of money in the old safe in the back room of his pawn shop. The old duck didn't have anybody or anything to spend his money on except his pet parrot and that despicable little capuchin monkey.
He eased his crowbar in the back door. Thank God, the parrot had a cover over his cage. Pop kept his pets in the shop much to the amusement of the neighborhood children. Everyone loved Greta, the monkey and old C'pn Hook, Pop called him. The parrot never did anything but squawk at the kids, but they loved him anyway. Pop told them he was deaf.
Walter hated both the animals and he was in quite a bit, always trying to hock something, but Pop knew better than to take much from Walter. It was usually hot.
Walter managed to stay one step ahead of the cops at best.
He chuckled to himself as he pried open the old rusty safe. He had been watching one day when Pop opened it.
"My God, it's full of cash!" Walter hatched his plan right then. The door squeaked open.
"Sssh, the crook said to the door. "Don't get the monkey started or that crazy squawking parrot,' he said absurdly to the safe.
He could hear the animals moving around in their cages. He filled the sack he carried full of cash.
"Stupid old man, keeping this kind of cash around and those idiot pets, a nutty monkey jumping all over everything and everybody. and the dumb parrot."
Walter decided he would look around the store; never know when he would come up on something he could use.
He crept around nosing into shelves and showcases, his flashlight making stabs into the darkness. He shined it in Greta's face and made the little monkey jump around turning her water dish over and making noise in general.
"Humph, better be quiet, old Pop's liable to hear me upstairs."
Pop Bryant lived above his small establishment. He couldn't hear well either, but Pop had been here for years.
He passed by the parrot's cage and tapped it gently. "Hey in there, you old crusty seabird, did you know Walter was going to be a rich man and get the heck out of this neighborhood?"
Walter did a little dance, chortling to the pets, "Yes, Walter's a rich man, you old idiot bird, whoopee!"
He left the safe door ajar, and slipped out into the night.
Greta was still bouncing around her cage and C'pn Hook was screeching and flapping his wings.
The next morning Pop Bryant fiddled for his keys to open the door. Something wasn't right. The animals were still bouncing. He let Greta loose. She swung on his shoulder, chattering.
"What's wrong, guys? Something disturb you in the night?" He turned and found the parrot's food bowl upside down and food strewn everywhere. C'pn Hook just squawked and swung on his swing. Pop looked around and spied the open safe.
"Oh, no," he said and pushed the door back. Sure enough, his cash was gone and several jewelry cases were missing and the gun case was broken, three missing.
He rushed to the phone and soon two officers were on the scene asking the standard questions.
Who do you suspect? Anybody have a grudge?
"Anyone could have done it, said Pop. It's not the best neighborhood, you know, lots of drugs, street walkers, etc."
The officers did not look happy over this. It sounded like Pop might be halfway blaming the police.
"We can't be everywhere, sir," one said.
"Oh, I know that," he said, "but that was my life savings! Don't trust banks, folks rob them too. Could have been anybody. Lots of vagrants around here too, you know."
"Yes, sir, one officer said with a raised eyebrow, "but vagrants seldom break into stores. Anybody been hanging around here watching your store or strangers coming in?"
Pop frowned. "No, no more than usual, couple of gang members tried to hassle me yesterday, just kids."
"Sometimes 'just kids' will do anything, sir."
The officers were about to wind up the initial investigation when Walter walked in. He thought coming around would take suspicion, if any, away from him.
"Well, geez, Pop, I see you had a robbery. Take anything?"
"Robbery is the key word, here, Walter. Guns, jewelry, and my safe was jimmied and my whole life savings gone. Over $100,000!
"Gosh, Pop, I'm sorry," and to himself he thought, "I didn't know it was that much." He had not had time to count it all.
"Maybe you should'na kept that kind of money in the store."
One officer tapped Walter on the shoulder. "Do you live in this neighborhood, sir and what is your name?
"Walter P. Cummings, Jr. and yes, I live up the street a ways. Done quite a bit of trading with old Pop here"
"See anything amiss last night, Mr. Cummings? The other officer asked.
"Can't say that I did, Officer. But whoever did this is gonna be a rich man, looks like.
Greta was still sitting on Pop's shoulder giving Walter the evil eye, but who would pay attention to a capuchin monkey?
"Well, I'll be going, Pop, see you around officers," and he started for the door.
He walked by C'pn Hook's cage and poked his finger at the old parrot.
The old bird squawked and fluttered his wings at Walter and just as he got to the door, C'pn Hook squawked again.
"Walter, Walter," he squawked out and did a little dance. "Walter's gonna be a rich man, you idiot bird."
Pop and the policemen did a double take and they grabbed Walter as he tried to run.
"What did you say, C'pn?" Pop asked, but C'pn had spoken and that was that.
"I thought you said that old bird was deaf! Walter screamed.
Pop just grinned. "I thought he was. He never said a thing."
"Well, he certainly 'fowl mouthed’ you, my friend," said one of the cops, laughed and cuffed Walter.
Greta hopped off Pops shoulder to C'pn's cage, grinned and screeched at Walter as he went out with the police.
Contact the Author - dorothyb@eezznet.com