Kristy Flannigan walked along Chicago's State Street, taking in the atmosphere. Her Christmas shopping finished weeks earlier, she was enjoying the sights, sounds, and feeling of the season. She wasn't a stranger to State Street at this time of year, as she worked at Marshall Field's over the Christmas season while going through Loyola. It rankled her that Field's was now Macy's and this New York icon was now defacing the Loop. The upside was Frango Mints would now be distributed on a far wider scale. And there still was the Field Museum
A true Chicagoan says "there's no such thing as bad weather, just bad clothes" in the winter. Kristy was an example of this. Perched atop her head and covering her ears was wool a stocking cap, in White Sox colors and with the descending "S-O-X" on the front. Her White Sox Starter jacket was open at the top, and revealed a white turtleneck with same logo in black. A scarf declaring her alligence to the Pale Hose went loosely around her neck, with the ends on the left hand side, front and back. On her hands she wore black mittens, as four fingers were warmer together. Her jeans were blue and tucked into fleece-lined leather boots.
After she decided she'd soaked up enough atmosphere, Kristy headed back to the South Loop office she shared with her twin sister Kelly. Kelly was in court today, so Kristy would have to deal with anybody who came into the office. Once inside the building housing their office, Kristy pulled off the mittens During the elevator ride, Kristy noticed a well-dressed woman, possibly in her mid forties. The woman got off on the same floor as Kristy and matched her strides to office door. They both stopped outside the office door that read like this:
Flannigan and Flannigan
Attorney at Law
Private Detective
The older woman looked at Kristy and asked awkwardly "are you looking for them too?"
"Nope," Kristy said. "Part of the firm."
They went into Kristy's inner office. Kristy hung her cap, scarf and jacket on the coat rack, accepted the woman's overcoat, and hung it up as well. Kristy's White Sox devotion was carried into the office as well, with their colors on pens and message cubes. On the wall was her framed Private Investigator's license on the wall.
"Good you're the detective," the woman said. "My name is Colleen O' Malley and I represent the South Side Hibernian Society."
Kristy's eyes lit up. "You've heard of us," Mrs. O'Malley said. She had the be a Mrs., Kristy figured, for despite her wardrobe, the visitor wore little jewelry, and didn't seem to be type to wear a ring on her left hand for the sake of wearing a ring.
"Your twelve-foot Christmas tree is a highlight of the season," Kristy said. "Especially with the gold start on top." Then it hit Kristy. "You're here about the star."
"Exactly. Somebody tried to steal it early this morning."
"Tried too?"
"The ladder he chose was too wobbly. He fell off it and broke his collarbone."
"Serves him right, but surely he's in no condition to try again."
"It's unlikely, but we're afraid that the publicity about this might encourage other attempts."
"Also, he probably had help setting up the ladder," Kristy figured. "Not to mention a truck or a van big enough to carry it."
"What happened to the suspect?" Kristy said after a brief pause.
"He was taken to Stroger Hospital."
Kristy contemplated this for a while. "All right, I'll look into this," Kristy said. She discussed her fee, plus expenses.
Her first expense was for the cab ride to Stroger Hospital. She identified herself to the staff and was showed to the suspect's room. He had a vague Middle Eastern apearance and practically sneered at Kristy from the first sight. "What do you want, woman?' he asked with a tone of utter contempt.
"You were trying a gold star from a Christmas tree and I want to know why."
"I don't answer to women or infidels, and you're both."
"Let's see, you're a Middle Eastern type and a misogynistic asshole. Not with Al-Qaida, but of like mindset. That inept robbery attempt tells me you're strictly minor league. You planned to steal the Gold Star to hock it to raise money for your pathetic bunch of Al-Qaida wannabes."
The suspect gave only a noise somewhere between a sneer and a grunt. That told Kristy all she needed to know.
Kristy left the room and found the cop assigned to the room at the nurse's station, chatting up on the nurses. Having relatives in both professions, she knew how common intermarriage was between them.
"Would you believe those two idiots tried to swipe the star with a ladder they bought the a couple days ago?" the cop said. "The store sticker was still on it, and they paid for it with a credit card. We got the other guy in custody."
"That's good to hear." Kristy said as she left.
On the way out, Kristy phoned Mrs. O'Malley. It ha been agreed to make it more difficult to approach the tree, but until then, the Gold Star was to be kept in a safe place. "I'll be taking it home with me tonight, but I want you to take it home with you for."
"Why?" Kristy wondered.
"It will be well known that I'll be taking it home, but I'm the only one who will know where it's going eventually."
"Okay. It makes sense now."
Kristy returned to the office and found Kelly sorting through some paper. "I finished up in court today." Kelly said. "What are you up to?"
"I'll tell you on the way."
On the walk to the el station, Kristy explained the whole thing to Kelly. "Why don't you come along, Kell," Kristy said. We might have some fun."
Kelly laughed. She and Kristy played the age-old pranks of identical twins while growing up; switching names, trying to confuse family and friends. It also came in handy during Kristy's case work as well. "You're right, but I don't have a pair of boots like yours," Kelly said.
"That part doesn't matter as much," Kristy said.
After dinner, the twins went to the O'Malley house. Kelly caused some initial confusion, but Kristy was able to explain things to the client's satisfaction. "Now that I look at you two, I notice each of you parts her hair her own way," she explained.
Kelly lifted the ornament and was surprised by the weight of it. "This must be real gold," she observed.
"Eighteen karat gold," Mrs. O'Malley confirmed. "We need a cherry picker bucket to put it in place."
"No wonder that clod fell off the ladder," Kristy said.
The twins took the start and returned home. While both loyal White Sox fans, their tastes diverged with other sports. Kelly jumped on the Bull's bandwagon when they started winning and never got off. Kristy cared more for hockey, but with the "no home games on TV" rule the Black Hawks' owner enforced, Kristy had to listen on the radio in her bedroom. Early in the third period, she thought she heard the front door open and close and some sort of commotion downstairs.
"Kelly?" she called out, and got no answer. Worried, she hurried downstairs and found herself confronted by an intruder who held one hand over Kelly's mouth and a knife to her throat. Whoever this man was, he wasn't related to the previous attempts, as he had a thick red hair and beard. Kristy's brain clicked rapidly. Kelly could try to break free once he relaxed his grip, but there had to be somebody else in the house…
Kristy turned her heard slightly, toward the kitchen. In the corner of her eye, she saw a blonde woman. "All we want to do is take the star," she said. "We'll tie the two of you up and leave it go at that."
"What did you do, follow us here?" Kristy asked as her wrists were bound behind her back.
"We took down your plate number and hacked into the computer records at the Secretary of State's office," he said removing his hand from Kelly's mouth and bringing the arm around her waist.
"You made things easy for us," the woman remarked as she walked Kristy to the couch. To that end, Kristy had to agree. The Gold Star was sitting on the Flannigans' coffee table. The hadn't even bothered to stash it somewhere.
The woman bound Kristy's ankles and asked, "How are we set for gags?"
"I didn't bring any," her partner said.
"They have dish towels in the kitchen. We can cut one into strips."
The man pulled a length of rope from his pocket and Kristy noticed something else emerge and fall to the floor. It looked like some sort of card, but she couldn't tell and had sense enough not to ask what it was. The man bound Kelly at the wrists and ankles and set her in an easy chair.
The woman disappeared into the kitchen but soon appeared with the dishtowel. She tore it in two lengthwise and made large knots in the center of each strip. She hand one to the red head and kept one for herself. The gags were placed into the twins' mouths and the knots secured behind their heads.
"Let's lay 'em on the floor before we go," the man suggested.
The woman had no objection and soon Kelly and Kristy were lying face down on the floor of their own living room, bound and gagged.
PART TWO
Kelly and Kristy struggled against their bonds, but their efforts, combined with the late hour caused them to fall asleep. They drifted in and out of sleep until dawn, when daylight ended most chance for sleep. The thieves had turned off the lights in the living room, so the two couldn't see much of anything. Now, Kristy could see a decorative glass bowl resting on a stand close to stairs. If she could get it to fall onto a hard surface, there was a way out.
With much squirming and rolling, Kristy managed to move herself into a position where she could knock over the stand. She swung her legs around, which upset the stand and brought the bowl crashing to the ground.
Next, Kristy manipulated herself until she could get one of the shards into her hands and saw away at her bindings. Once free, she stood up and stretched. Before she released her sister, Kristy said. "I know you liked the bowl, but we need to get loose.
"I can always get a new one," Kelly said. After she stretched herself out, she went to the phone and called the police. After she hung up, Kelly noticed Kristy carefully looking around the room.
"What are you looking for?" she asked.
"I though I saw something come out of the guy's pocket," Kristy replied. "Ah there it is."
"It looks like a business card," Kelly remarked as Kristy picked it up.
"It is. 'Midwest Antiques, Tim and Terri Cantwell, owners'."
"The two from last night?"
"Probably. It's on Roberts Road in Hickory Hills, off 95th Street."
"That's just past the Tri-State Tollway."
"That's where I'm going."
Kelly wasn't pleased. "What about the police?"
"You'll have to tell them."
Kristy hurried into the kitchen and emerged with an envelope of Pop-Tarts. "You can't go alone," Kelly said.
"I'm not going alone," Kristy insisted." I'm taking Little Tony with me."
Kelly rolled her eyes. "Little Tony" was the nickname Kristy gave to her .25 caliber Barretta automatic. Kristy soon left the house with the weapon and was on her way.
Kristy knew full well Kelly would give the story to the Chicago police, who would in turn notify the authorities in Hickory Hills. In fact, she thought the police would be waiting for her.
Kelly had her first surprise on the expressway. Since she was in the south bound lanes, heading away from downtown, traffic was lighter, and along 95th, she caught several green lights. On arrival at the site of the antique dealership, she found there were no police waiting. Perhaps one of the police departments --maybe bothâ€"had trouble believing the story. Kristy would have trouble believing it too, if it hadn't happened to her.
Kristy parked a good distance away from the dealership, as a good investigator always did. She opened the car's trunk, then tool box inside. The tool box had a roll of duct tape she kept handy for emergencies, and this seemed like one to her. She removed three strips and affixed them to her jacket.
Kristy crept around to the back way. She stood by the door and heard somebody approaching from the inside. Quickly, she jumped away from the door, against the wall.
A blonde woman emerged from the building. Kristy pulled her gun, pointed it at the woman and said "Terri Cantwell?"
"Yes?" the woman said and turned. She stopped short at the sight of Kristy's gun.
"Inside and don't make a sound," Kristy said.
Terri did as she was told. Kristy ordered the woman to first put her hands behind her back. Kristy wasted no time in securing the wrists then placed tape over Terri's mouth. There was a desk nearby, with a rolling chair. Kristy had Terri sit in the chair and secured the other woman's ankles.
"Terri what are you doing back there?" shouted her husband from the front.
A short time later, he came into the back room "There's a squad out front..." He broke off on seeing his wife tied up and a gun pointed at him.
"They'll make back here eventually," Kristy said.
A uniformed officer came in and on seeing Kristy's weapon pulled out his. "Who's the thief and who's the Crazy P.I.?"
"I'm the crazy P.I.," Kristy said as she set her gun aside. A plainclothes office came in next and after getting the story, told Kristy "Don't ever do it again,"
"I won't," Kristy said.
"One more thing," he said.
"What's that?"
"Merry Christmas."
THE END