“Where is he?” Detective Stryder demanded.
“Flew the coup, sir.”
Detective Stryder turned to the newbie in blue, “have you searched the house? Thoroughly?”
“Of course sir, that’s the first thing we did,” came the slightly indignant response to her growl.
Leslie Stryder heard the sullen undertone and backed off her own demanding voice, adapting a more conciliatory approach, she smiled.
“Ever heard of the ‘Santa syndrome’ officer ….” she paused for the kid to fill in his name.
“Jenkins, sir” the young cop replied shaking his head.
“Well Jenkins, it’s like this; sometimes a thief will try any escape he can find, some like to go up and out the chimney flue,” she saw the light bulb blink on over his head as the concept sunk in.
“Like Santa, oh that’s just sick.”
Jenkins walked over to the fireplace and shined his light up only to find creosote falling into his face. The flashlight crashed to the floor and Jenkins doubled over in a wracking cough. Stryder rushed to him snatching a portable oxygen mask and thrusting it on his face. His coughing ease but did not let up entirely. “OFFICER DOWN!” She shouted loud and clear and was rewarded with a pair of the hazmat cops she’s brought along.
Jenkins’ breathing was still labored as the hazmats loaded him onto the gurney and wheeled him away.
Stryder donned a respirator before scraping some of the residue from inside the flue. “Fluxonite!” She swore inventively for several moments. “those dirty filthy rotten fornicators of livestock. Fluxonite, that’s all we need.”
She backed away from the flue and yelled down the stair “Grimes, get the lab boys up here we’ve got a smoker!”
Word count 283
For the Just Jot it January Challenge # 11 at lindaghill.com It’s not too late to join in. 😉
Thanks to M. Oinker for the prompt: Flew/flu/flue
Til next time ~Peace ~JPP
Crone and Curmudgeon 