All of our Spoons are Missing

Story by Keith Errington, image by Nimue.

Phil Fork, Cutlery Detective, had to admit he was struggling at his relatively new career. He had a couple of minor cases – last week he dealt with one where a fork had disappeared. It turned out to be in the owners’ apron pocket all along where it had fallen after dinner. That was hardly challenging. Then there was a cheese knife that was lost in a garden pond. To be honest, that was more of a retrieval job than detective work, and he hadn’t been able to get the smell of that weird mud out of his shoes. In the end he had to throw them back in the pond as they were starting to become sentient. But worse than any of these, there was a whole spate of spoon thefts – none of which he had managed to solve. What good was a cutlery detective who couldn’t find cutlery?

So, when Mr and Mrs Golgalenzi sent him an urgent message about the disappearance of a whole batch of spoons, Phil decided this was an excellent opportunity to put his record straight and reclaim his confidence. If he could find and return the spoons, then his career choice would be vindicated. There was something in the note about a missing daughter too. But missing spoons, that would be his salvation.

When he turned up at the Golgalenzi’s house, he had to sit through half an hour of them telling him how much they missed their daughter, Alice. How beautiful she was, how intelligent, how they couldn’t understand why she left, how much they missed her, had she been kidnapped? At this point Mrs Golgalenzi started to cry.

“Please help us Mr Fork, there is on-one else to turn to,” she said sobbing.

“I’m sorry,” Mrs Golgalenzi,” Phil explained, “I’m not sure how much help I would be finding your daughter – you see I’m a cutlery detective, not a people detective.”

“Cutlery?” Queried Mr Golgalenzi and looked at his wife meaningfully.

“SPOONS!” They both said together. “All of our spoons are missing; we think Alice took them with her.”

“Ah, well that changes things,” responded Phil. He thought for a moment, “So we know who the thief is then?”

“She’s not a thief!” Exclaimed Mrs Golgalenzi, “She just likes playing with the spoons.”

“Hmm” Replied Phil. “Can you show me the scene of the crime?” They looked blank.

“Where was the cutlery taken from?”

They showed Phil to the kitchen and pulled out the cutlery draw. Well, here was a tragic and horrifying sight thought Phil. A wonderful set of beautiful silver cutlery, a service for six, all laid out in little compartments, all filled save one. Here was an outrageous crime, thought Phil, never mind a missing girl, this was serious.

Phil turned to the grieving parents, “I will find your spoons. And I will return them to this very drawer.”

“And you will find our daughter and bring her back to us?” asked Mrs Golgalenzi.

“Yes, yes, sure,” confirmed Phil.

“She used to play in the orchard out the back, we have looked there, but it might be a good place to start?” suggested Mr Golgalenzi.

“Sure, sure,” Phil assented. If she is not there what is the point? He thought. But he knew it was important to keep the client happy, so he set off for the orchard.

–◊–

Thankfully, the orchard was small, and there was an obvious small clearing on one side where various toys had been abandoned. Phil looked around. There were some fresh indentations in the ground. Clearly, he thought, some kind of animal has been here, although it must have been fairly big, and its paws even seemed to have fingers.

There was a path heading out of the orchard on the other side. On one side of it there was something caught on the bark of a tree. Phil examined it – it was a small piece of torn cloth. Odd he thought, who would tear up a small piece of cloth and place it in a tree?

Not knowing what else to do, he followed the path. The orchard abruptly ended and random trees took over. There was substantial undergrowth on both sides of the path, and occasionally it became more difficult to follow. After a short while he spotted something on the floor. It was a small teddy bear. It hadn’t been there long as it was quite clean. Well, this might make things more difficult thought Phil, clearly this track is regularly frequented by small children. Absent-mindedly, he picked up the bear. On its dress were embroidered the initials AG. Probably the maker thought Phil and popped the bear in his pocket.

In the distance, he heard a young girls’ voice. These woods are full of children, thought Phil. How am I supposed to find one young girl amongst them? Then one of those flashes of inspiration came to him. One that he recognised as the mark of a true detective. He had read about them. It was known as a hunch. (Actually, when he first read about them, he walked bent over for days, then re-read the passage and realised it wasn’t that sort of a hunch.) Maybe, he thought tentatively, maybe, I can ask this girl if she had seen Alice. He headed off in the direction of the sound.

“Hello, young girl,” Phil announced himself as he entered the small glade of scrubby trees where the girl sat. There was a sudden scuttling sound.

“OH!” The girl exclaimed. “You’ve frightened them off! You horrible noisy man! It will take ages for them to come back now.”

“Erm, sorry” said Phil sheepishly. He didn’t feel he was very good with children. Then again, he wasn’t that good with grownup people – but he felt even more uncomfortable with the younger ones.

“So, what do you want?” The young girl asked.

Phil noticed that the dress she was wearing matched that of the bear he had picked up, and it too had the initials AG embroidered on it. That’s a prolific maker thought Phil, making children’s clothes as well as clothes for teddy bears.

“I’m looking for a girl,” said Phil. Then realising that might sound a bit dodgy, he added, “Or, rather, I’m looking for some spoons.”

“Well, I certainly don’t have any,” stated Alice (for, yes, it was she) rather louder than was necessary.

“Ah. Okay. Have you seen a young girl in these woods, possibly carrying spoons?” asked Phil.

“No, I haven’t. And if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. You scared off all my friends the spoonwalkers, just as I was talking to them.”

Phil thought it sweet that this girl had imaginary friends she talked to. Although this did make here a somewhat unreliable witness – she was clearly going to be of no help finding the spoons.

“Ah, right. Sorry to have disturbed you.” And Phil started across the clearing to the path on the other side. As he did so, he tripped over a tree root and landed face down on the forest floor. Next to his head, inches from his eyes, were six beautiful silver spoons. He had found the spoons! He stood up, shook himself off, and picked up the spoons.

“I’ve found the spoons!” He exclaimed excitedly.

Alice shook her head, raised her eyes and gave him a weary look. “I must take them back to the Golgalenzi’s! They will be so pleased to see them!” And Phil turned to go.

Alice’s eyes widened and she harrumphed in exasperation, stamping a foot as she did so. As Phil left, she followed him.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I know the way; you don’t have to help.”

“Help!” Exclaimed Alice. “I, I,” she found herself lost for words. What a silly, annoying man.

Phil was excited and eager to get back, but in his haste, he nearly lost his way and was somewhat mortified when the young girl following him called out to him and showed him the right way. He finally arrived back at the Golgalenzi’s house with Alice close behind.

“I’ve found your spoons!” exclaimed Phil, triumphantly waving them.

“You’ve found Alice!” exclaimed Mrs Golgalenzi as the girl came into view. “You are the best detective ever. Come inside and have some pie. And let us pay you.”

Well, Phil thought they would be excited to see their spoons returned but he didn’t imagine they would be this grateful.

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