EoMEoTE#15: The Hard-Boiled Edition

Nick Henslay sat in his chair, staring at a copy of the Daily Ovoid. It was a small item on page four that had his attention. Below the latest reports on the comings and goings of the rich and famous were two short sentences.

RYETH BUTTERY, NATIONAL TOAST COUNCIL PRESIDENT, DISCOVERED FACE-DOWN IN SCRAMBLED EGGS. FOWL PLAY SUSPECTED.

Just two days ago, Buttery had walked into Nick's office, promising the PI a lot of bread for a 'small' job. Ryeth Buttery was a powerful man, but he'd cracked more than a few shells on his way to the top. "I've heard about you, Henslay", said the slightly fried-looking exec. "I know you can be...discreet." And he proceeded to tell his story.

Nick waited till Buttery was finished. Telling the NTC chief this job was not what he considered 'small', he then insisted they get all their eggs in a row before he'd agree to take his case.

"So you're saying Ben Adique, your second-in-command, is selling company secrets to Erskine, Grundy, Green and Schultz?"

Buttery nodded.

Henslay whistled. E.G.G.S. was the most powerful manufacturer of ready-made breakfast foods in the country. If they were to get their hands on The National Toast Council's production processes, it would destroy the company for sure.

Nick told the Toast man he'd get back to him in a couple of days, he'd need to think things over before deciding.

Not a man accustomed to waiting, Ryeth's face first steamed, then fell, like a goat-cheese souffle. "You're supposed to be the best', he grumbled as he stood up. "I don't like this, but I don't suppose I have a choice."

He tossed a neatly wrapped stack of bills on Nick's desk. "Consider that your retainer. I expect to hear from you Wednesday."

As he watched Buttery close the door, Nick let out another whistle.

It wasn't that he was afraid to ruffle the feathers of the upper crust, but something in the man's story stunk like a carton of rotten eggs. If Nick was about to find himself in hot water, he wanted to be sure of the steaks.

The detective looked down at the newspaper in front of him: it was Wednesday's edition.

Had someone learned of Buttery's visit to the PI? Or was the murder unrelated?

Either way, Nick knew on which side his bread was buttered: he was going to find Ryeth Buttery's killer.

Taking over for the perpetually busy Cooksister, this month's End of Month Egg on Toast Extravaganza is slipping into a well-tailored suit, donning a fedora, fighting the urge to slap/kiss a sexy dame, and solving crime. This month, write your EoMEoTE posts like a piece of Noir, like a hard-boiled detective story.

The rules, as always, are pretty dang simple.

Your post must contain:

1. Some sort of egg

2. Some sort of carbohydrate

You can leave a link to your entry here in the comments, or send them to me at thehappysorceress at gmail dot com. I'll accept entries all next week, and post the round-up the following.

So, dust off your manual typewriters, and get cracking!




Tagged with: Food and Drink + EoMEoTE + Eggs + Toast + Noir + Fiction + Events