The Misadventures of Pedro, the Detective

By LUIS NELSON RODRÍGUEZ CUSTODIO

A clueless detective, accompanied  by a drunkard and a prostitute, will make many shameful mistakes.

Laughter guaranteed.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BadPress
• Release date: Oct 7, 2020
• ISBN: 9781071567012

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Table of Contents

The Misadventures of Peter, The Detective

The Misadventures of Peter, The Detective

1

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Peter was a detective, or so he thought.

Having realized a crash course through correspondence (truth be told, he couldn’t remember the details), five years ago and losing his job at the factory, decided to try his luck by renting a cheap flat in a marginal neighbourhood.

He had to paint it with cheap paint and rearrange the electric cables that were hanging like a clothesline.

But in the end and with the meager funds he had, the place looked pretty good.

The course promised fame and fortune and so he in spite of everything was content. Enough

time had he spent dreaming about this.

Clearly, it would not be easy for he did not look like the detectives in the movies.

Standing at one metre sixty, weighing in at a meager fifty kilos with a long nose (his work colleagues nicknamed him Big nose).

This tiny description, along with his lightly squinting eyes, we could resume in technical form that he was short and unattractive, to top it all off, he was half bald, however the three last concepts wouldn’t be recognized even with torture.

When encountering people who were taller than he (which was most of the time), he would catalog them as being abnormally tall.

Him short? Never!

After qualifying and not finding any work in the detective agencies who despised him in a most Olympian manner, he had to find special ways of making money to eat and pay his bills. Mowing lawns, working as a gopher in a construction company and other menial tasks that he thought were not up to his standards.

Finally, he found a job in a factory in which he lasted only three months before being fired for the exact same reason that he was not tall enough to reach the higher shelves of the depository.

Arriving at the hostel where he lived, he stretched out on his bed and imagined he was rich and famous.

To get out of poverty he trusted in games of chance, for this, once in a while he would try his luck at the slot machines.

Having obtained some cash, in reality very little indeed from his earlier method, he decided to change his life.

He rented an office of third category in a fourth category neighbourhood. It was apartment 3b on the second floor.

He was able to purchase an old scratched desk, two chairs with wobbly legs in a second hand shop, which he tried his best to fix with wiring. If the numerous clients that would visit, if they didn’t look down, there wouldn’t be a problem.

The desk was easy. He had many useless papers at home, so he placed them on the desk as a double meaning, hide the scratches on the desk and look busy at the same time with a multitude of cases pending. He also got hold of telephone, which of course was not connected, yet, but it looked good and looked professional.

Most of the cash he had left was spent on a small can of paint and a fine paint brush. He had to put some kind of advertisement on the window of his door.

He dedicated the following hour painting an advert on his door.

After so much work (more costing than he thought), this was the end result

Peter Dominguez Detetive.

When he was excitedly contemplating his magnanimous work, out came a young couple from apartment 5b, kissing.

As the young man was passing his door, he looked at the brightly painted lettering, immediately incited his girlfriend to read it. At that moment, both burst out laughing.

_What are laughing at? – asked

Pedro angrily.

The young couple kept walking singing in chorus:

_There’s a c missing, there’s a c missing, singing while descending the stairs.

Peter looked at his work decidedly and had a doubt. He put his hand in his back pocket and pulled out his folder and examined the pamphlet the school had sent him when he completed the course.

He compared it with the writing on the door and realized there was a letter missing.

Damn C"! he said through clenched teeth, remembering the Mother of the creators of the language.

Making an effort to calm himself, he took the lid off the can of paint resumed to paint a c with slow precision in a tight spot. (Like a girdle, would say a peasant), between the e and the t. He walked a few paces backwards to admire his work:

_It turned out well – he said, with the resignation that comes with the inevitable.

Entering his office, he hanged his diploma in the most visible spot and exited again heading towards the local daily paper where he took out an advertisement in the classifieds offering his services.

After concluding this latest task, he noticed it was six in the afternoon and with a proud step walked to his hostel humming a pop song. He was happy, now he was a real detective, with an office and everything.

He dined early, so as to build up his strength, for that will be his capital gain, he lay down, determined to wake early the next day to open his amazing office. That night he dreamt he resolved a great crime, and the whole world admired and applauded him.

2

He woke early the first day for the opening of his business.

At seven in the morning, with a notebook and pencil ready to jot down all the numerous cases he will have, he declared his agency officially opened, in other words, he opened.

It was ten in the morning, and nobody had set foot in his office, it was still early.

Five in the afternoon was not early. The only thing you could hear was the sound of footsteps from the other tenants going up and down the stairwell.

Two or three times he thought somebody was knocking at his door, but the footsteps went past his door.

At eight in the evening he closed, demoralized, but consoled himself that the customers had not seen the advert and that the following day he’d have better luck.

Next day, he did not hurry to open as early and opened at nine instead.

A little after midday he was thinking where he could go to cut grass, just to keep busy.

Unfortunately for him his phone was not yet connected. The manager told him they would be connecting his line in a few days, since he had already made a solicitation.

When his phone is connected, he will put another advert adding the phone number, since he doesn’t even have a cellphone.

Furthermore, it would be easier for future clients to make an appointment by phone.

While thinking this, he jumped filled with joy that someone was knocking at his door.

Immediately an idea occurred to him. He took the receiver from the phone and yelled:

_Come in, it’s open!

_Good afternoon, may I come in? – greeted the visitor, of fortyish years with graying hair.

_One moment – he said covering the receiving end of the phone -, _sit down. I’ll be with you in a moment – lifting the phone to his ear, he pretended he was having a conversation: _Thank you very much Mr. Ambassador. I’m happy that you are satisfied with the way we resolved your case.

_In our agency we resolve every

case quickly. What will you recommend?

_Very well, even though we are very busy – while saying this he looked sideways at his client who had an unexplainable smile that intrigued him.

_Very well Mr. Ambassador, I must leave you for I have another client waiting – continuing he hung up the receiver and directed his attention to the client –

_How can we help you, Sir?

_Martinez – said the afore mentioned - _But in reality my name is irrelevant because I’m not a client. I’m from the phone company and I’m here to connect your phone.

Halfway through listening, Pedro’s face resembled traffic lights, first yellow followed by an intense red. He opened his mouth to explain, but nothing came forth. He looked like a fish out of water.

The civil servant, still smiling, connected the phone line, while the supposed detective was observing him uncomfortably.

Finishing his task, the visitor greeted him again a good afternoon and added:

_Almost forgot, send my regards to

Mr. Ambassador – as he exited, he let out a raucous laugh that could be heard from the bottom floor. 

3

At 7:20 late afternoon, the same day, is when our detective who had never investigated found the day a total loss, until someone knocked on the door.  

He repeated the same thing as earlier come in, it’s open without the phone, just in case.

This time, the person who entered was a middle-aged woman, a little on the plump side but elegant.

Peter realized that it was only in the movies that blonde bombshells seek the services of a detective.

_Good afternoon Madam. Please take a seat – he invited.

_Good afternoon – she answered, adding: I need your help.

Our agency is at your service – he said in a flattering tone, trying to be courteous with his only client -.

_Tell me Madam.

_Carmen Espino – introducing herself – _I’m here for the following reason: I’ve been married now for twenty years. My relationship with my husband has always been good, but it’s been more or less a year that the situation had started to deteriorate.

_He hardly speaks to me, before he was a homebody, now he’s out all the time. Furthermore, he goes out every afternoon and returns late at night. He never tells me where he goes.

I suspect he’s cheating on me, but

I can’t follow him, he would notice.  _That’s why I’m here. Can you help?

_Of course, Madam! – he said abruptly, and with more enthusiasm necessary for a professional.

_How much will it cost?

_Let’s see...my fee would be three-hundred pesos per day. I think, that in two to three days of investigating, we will know what to expect. How’s