Bakery Breakery

In my line of work, my phone tends to resemble a fur coat in summer. It stays on the hook. So, when I got an early call from a distressed Molly Looky, I wasted no time in making an appearance. Plus, she was an old friend. An old friend who just so happened to own my favorite bakery in town. I was happy to do her a favor.

Apparently overnight someone really needed a cookie and broke in. Smashed in, rather. No longer resembling a bakery, it felt more like a drafty disco. The shattered displays on the floor shimmering with rays of color from the morning sun. Tears fought their way out of Molly’s eyes with each cracking step I took over what once was her front window. “Molly Looky’s Breads and Cookies”, it used to read.

Before I could get out a word she was rushing over to embrace me.

“Thank you for coming so quickly, I wasn’t sure who else to turn to!”

I could feel the desperation and pain in her grip. She clutched me around the waist as if I could unfold my wings and fly her to another world where her dreams were not scattered beneath our feet.

“You’re an old friend, Mol, I’m happy to do you a favor.” A few pats on the back and a warm smile seemed to calm her nerves a bit.

As she withdrew from me and wiped away the tears, I started to feel a forgotten longing come creeping back. Whether out of panic or habit I handed her my card before turning to inspect the scene.

A.   Crumbull P.I.

The sleuth with a sweet tooth

She was anxious and stuck hot to my heel as I poked through the wreckage that lead further into the bakery. It didn’t bother me, but it wouldn’t aid my investigation either.

“Hey Mol, how about you wait up front here?”

She gave a slight nod and took a couple small steps back, choking back more tears. Poor girl.

Taking a rudimentary look around the place, I could tell that this would be a tough egg to crack. The mess this meringue madman made continued into the back. This is where the magic happens. But that magic was gone. And in its place kitchenware was cast about, decorations were dashed, and the floor was flooded with flour. It all seemed so random. At a glance I couldn’t make out any prints in the debris.

From my position I could see into Molly’s office where the computer’s screen saver illuminated further meddling. Papers were thrown about, many of which were crumpled. Someone was looking for something.

“Hey Mol!”

Molly was at my side before I could finish saying any more, she must have been watching from just around the corner.

“Yes? Yes? What is it? Do you know who did it? What have you found? Was it that witch across the street!? Did she - “

“Woah! Woah! Molly! Calm down,” I rubbed her back to settle her down, and she collapsed against my chest to let the tears go, requiring extra effort on my part to remain professional, “everything is going to be alright, Mol. I need you to be strong for a minute. Get yourself together. I know this is difficult. But was anything taken?”

As she pulled her head away she glanced towards her office and barely got the words out through heavy sobs, “Only my – “

Sniff

“secret ingredient – “

Sniffff

“for the – “

Sniiifffffffffff

“cookie contest”

At that her head once again found its place on my quickly dampening shirt.

This was bad. And not just bad. But really bad. Molly had been the Cookie Contest Queen for nine years running. Until last year when her bitter baking rival, Trudy, finally got the better of her. Trudy ran a bakery across the street called “The Good Stuff”, though I often found it to be the so-so stuff.

It all started to make some sense. To reclaim her crown, Molly had cooked up something incredible. Trudy finally had a taste for being the cherry on top, and she was not gonna let it go without a food fight. So, she breaks in, takes Molly’s ingredient, and makes it look like a basic b and e. With this year’s contest only a day away, I had to act fast. It’s time I had a talk with Trudy.

“I’m going to have a talk with Trudy.” I gently peeled Mol from my chest and wiped a tear from her eye. “I’m going to get to the bottom of this, there will be justice.”

A smile crept across Molly’s lips that further enflamed my spirits. “Sit tight, Mol.”

Trudging across the street I could see the lights on in back of Trudy’s shop and it didn’t take long for her to come around after I rang the bell and she didn’t appear at all surprised to see me standing there when she opened the door. She was caked in flour up to the elbows and there was an odd red substance on her apron.

“Well, well, if it isn’t detective donut. Come on in.” Her eyes lacked surprise like her tone lacked respect. She led me in a few paces, obviously trying to keep my visit brief. “What can I do ya for?”

I’d never had any reservations about which bakery I preferred, but it was time to play nice.

“Well Trudy, Molly’s place was broken into last night,” I motioned out the window and made a note of Trudy’s smirk, “and with the Cookie Contest coming up I just wanted to make sure our current queen wouldn’t be getting a repeat performance. You didn’t happen to notice anything strange last night or this morning? Any suspicious characters or troubling chatter?”

Her brows furrowed with a mocking doubt at my intentions, but I sensed she would be cooperative and congenial.

“No.”

Perhaps not.

It was clear I wasn’t going to get much more than that, so I decided it was best not to waste anymore of her time or my own.

“Alright Trud, there was some property stolen from Ms. Looky’s establishment, would you mind if I came back and had a look at – “

“Ooooh, its Ms. Looky now is it? That is awfully gentlemanly of you. Well, no, you can’t go back and take a look at my anything. And I don’t appreciate that snake sending you over here to ruffle my feathers. You ought to be ashamed falling for her tricks after all these years. I took her crown fair and square and I aim to keep it for a long long time. Now get out before I call the real cops to get you out.”

Ouch.

I decided to respect Trudy’s wishes and touch base with Molly before heading home to form a plan. I was not too pleased on returning to find Molly had nearly cleaned up all of the mess in the back.

“Woah, Mol, what are you doing? That was evidence you just mopped up.”

           A sorrowful concern washed over Molly’s face as she threw down the mop handle. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” I could see she was just a grieving woman trying to hold onto a bit of dignity for her cherished bakery.

“Never mind, that was my bad. You do what you gotta do. There weren’t any useful tracks or clues in it anyway. I spoke to Trudy, she wasn’t giving up anything. If – “

Molly spat out a hushed “witch”

“If you could, give me any information on this secret ingredient. Anything to aid my investigation.” I gave her a pleading eye, I was well aware of how sacred ingredients could be.

She bit her nail for a moment, apparently weighing the worth of her secret recipe. “I made only enough for the contest. There wouldn’t be enough time now to make another. All I can tell you is it involved cherry. I’m really sorry, but I couldn’t possibly say more. I know it’s not much to go on.”

Not much. But maybe just enough. “Cherry… Trudy had some red schmutz on her apron…”

“That’s it! That must be it! You have to go back over there and bring her down!” Molly was vicious in her request.

“I can’t, she threatened to get the ‘real cops’ involved if I hung around. But maybe…” I weighed my own options, between what was lawful and what was right. Trudy was guilty, I just needed the proof. “Maybe I can take a closer look later tonight. I might not be a ‘real cop’, but I’m not bound by real cop methods either. Don’t you worry Mol, I’ll nail this nougat nabbing ninny if it’s the last thing I do.”

Caught up in the excitement I gave Molly a tight hug and to my surprise she gave me a kiss on the cheek. Trudy was going down.

That night, under cover of the cold evening sky, I was making my way downtown, walking fast, no face mask and I’m hell bound. The wind behind Trudy’s shop prickled and whipped at me, persistent that I go no further, but I would not be deterred.

That the conditions were so trying was my only assurance that there would be no witnesses as I knelt down to get to work on the lock. Picking it was made difficult by an apparently amateurish previous attempt which mangled the insides. Could there be a third party who attempted to break in? I recalled the what I knew so far and set that notion far from my mind, focusing on the lock which gave way a moment later.

Desiring to leave as little a trace as possible, I took just a step in before removing my boots and continued my search a la socks. It looked as if Trudy had been working on her cookies deep into the night and decided to clean up in the morning. Fortunately for me. But aside from the lack of spic and span there was nothing more which stood out.

Thieves never tend to leave the items out and easy to identify. Though it would make for a welcome change of pace.

But then, in the beam of my handy flashlight, I noticed something which seemed out of place. Under the ovens, as if mistakenly kicked back, was a small plastic tub. I fished it out with a broom handle and bingo, inside were traces of a red substance which smelled of cherry.

When I got back home, I left a message with the Cookie Contest Commissioner telling her of the initial incident, Trudy’s unwillingness to cooperate and the faint smell of cherry I got when I spoke with her. I’m not a big fan of chocolate, but I wasn’t afraid to fudge the truth a little when it comes to justice. And luckily the commissioner was someone who took the baking business as seriously I did.

Early the next day, prior to the Cookie Contest Ceremony, the commissioner paid a visit to Trudy’s shop where she found the stolen cherry ingredient under the ovens. The container being somewhat easy to find. While not enough for criminal charges, Trudy was disqualified from participating in the contest.

I went to the Cookie Contest in support of Molly, though let’s face it, I was going to go anyway. I spruced up and wore my Sunday best. Molly had baked up a brand new recipe at home and she took first prize, the queen was back. For my part, I got to have a taste of her new batch. They were still warm. That first bite was heaven. It was chewy, but just chewy enough and it tasted of… cherry?

Just then, it all came to me. What really happened. The lock at Trudy’s, no prints in the flour, nothing else taken… she had set all this up. And played me like the frosted fool that I am. After being crowned, Molly disappeared. I didn’t see or hear from her again until a week later when her front window was replaced, and she reopened her shop. I went in for a strudel and she looked right through me,

“Enjoy, next in line please.”

Aint that the truth.

Just goes to show ya, in my line of work, it isn’t always so sweet.