January 30th, 2008 05:32 EST
Rick Holmes: The present day Sherlock Holmes
I once had a friend whose name was Rick Holmes. Rick was an extraordinary person; he owned his own detective agency. We were great friends, and he would often invite me to join him on his adventures. They were mostly boring cases, but one stands out clearly in my mind. One day, I was over at his apartment watching a football game when there came a knocking at the door below us. The landlord answered the door and called up to us, “Rick, it’s for you!” “Tell our visitor to come in,” Rick yelled down.
After being informed that he could enter, a man about thirty entered the room. His clothing was a little odd, and he had a Bluetooth headset on his ear. “Sorry to bother you,” the stranger said, “but I have a big problem on my hands.”
“No problem at all,” Rick answered. “Make yourself right at home, mister…” “Jones. Glenn Jones.”
As he threw his jacket on a chair and took a seat, Rick scanned him with one of his questioning gazes. “Now, Mr. Jones, what could a rich, left-handed bachelor require of me?”
“I see you know of me, Mr. Holmes,” said our guest.
“Not at all. No wife would ever let her husband go out in so out-of-date clothes, hence you are a bachelor. For the rich part, even though your clothes are way out of date, they are of the finest quality and probably cost a fortune at one time. The lefty part was easy because I can see from the bulge in your pocket that your cell phone is in your left pocket, and no righty would ever put his/her cell phone in his/her left pocket. Satisfied?”
“Wow. Now I see I have come to the right man. Let me explain my story. My dear father was a pretty successful businessman; and when he died, he gave most of his money to the company that he founded. The money that he had left is given to my mother and me every month. We get $30,000 a month. I do a few business things; but for the most part, I live at home. After my father’s death, my mother asked me to live with her because she was so distraught and needed help keeping up her house. I have recently been seeing a woman whom I love dearly. Her name is Maryann Federer. She is a little peculiar, for she always wants to go out at night. I am okay with this, though, for we communicate mostly by e-mail because she travels a lot. We have been seeing each other for six months, and we were about to be engaged. But last week, she disappeared. I have no clue where she is. The police think she must have just left on her own, but I know that she would never do that. Does any of this make sense to you?” “Before I tell you anything, I need to know a few things.” Rick said. “First, I need to know how you spend your money.”
“Oh. Well, I give most of it to my mother since she is providing me with room and board; and I have no desire to spend it all.” “I see. That is enough for me to know. Well, thank you for stopping by. I will get back to you shortly,” Rick said.
“Do you have any ideas?” Glenn questioned. “I have theories, but I need to know more. Come back tomorrow at ten.”
“Thank you so much, Mr. Holmes. Goodbye.” The next day at ten o’clock, Mr. Jones was right on time. After a brief greeting, Rick got right to the point.
“Mr. Jones, are you willing to believe anything I tell you?” “Yes,” said the man.
“Okay then. I know that this is going to be hard to believe, but there is no such person as Maryann Federer.” “What do you mean?” said Glenn.
“Maryann is really just a daughter of one of your mom’s friends. If you went away and got married, your mother would lose the money that you are giving her. Therefore, she hired her friend’s daughter to pretend to be your boyfriend. She thought you would be so distraught that you would never date again. I am so sorry, Eric. Your mom has done nothing against the law.” “Thank you so much, Rick. I am sad beyond belief, but now I will always know what happened to my dear Maryann. I will try my best to get over this. Goodbye.”
The now distraught Glenn shuffled out the room, and we never saw him again. We did, however, see something about him in the paper. “Look here!” Rick said one day several months later. “Remember that Glenn Jones? Well, he lived up to his promise of getting over his ‘girlfriend’. Look!”
He showed me the paper, which read, “Glenn Jones, founder of Strawberry Electronics, goes global and makes millions.” Well good for him, I happily thought.