Phantom in the Night by Clare Kauter

Author:Clare Kauter [Kauter, Clare]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Clare Kauter

The Gerongate Gazette offices were located in a brick building a little out of the CBD. I guess the newspaper didn’t make enough money to afford the same rent as the three massage parlours and cat accessory shop on the main street – although to be fair, they were almost definitely fronts for drug businesses. (Except the cat place. I’m pretty sure the cat owners in town just really loved buying treats for their feline pals and thus kept the store in a prime location. If there was a pig-specific shop it’d be right there next door, kept afloat solely by me.)

We strode into the newspaper building like we actually had permission to be there and approached the guy whose picture was on the byline for all the Runny Pooer articles, Garret Tingle.

“We need to ask you some questions,” Mum announced as we came to a stop in front of Tingle’s desk. She sat down on the chair with Hercules-Athena on her lap, seated upright with her legs out in front. I was worried she wouldn’t like it but I guess her curly tail was comfy because she didn’t let out a peep. Or an angry squeal. (Which was lucky, because pigs can scream louder than jet engines. Literally. No, I mean it. I know you don’t believe me. Look it up.)

Leaning forward slightly, I checked out what he was looking at on his computer. The browser was open to a yawn-worthy article about a young entrepreneur who’d opened a series of businesses here in Gerongate. Glancing around at the empty desks, I wasn’t ultra surprised that Tingle was researching options for when he inevitably lost his job at the newspaper, but he could read on his own time.

“Sorry to interrupt you in the middle of pretending to work, but –”

“I am working!”

“Whatever. We want to ask you about the Runny Pooer.”

His eyes widened and he gripped the edge of his desk, white-knuckling it like we were going to drag him away to prison or something. “Who are you? Bloggers? A rival newspaper?” I swear he actually bared his teeth at us. “Back off!”

I put my hands up. “Dude, calm down. You’re making me and Janine look stable.” He didn’t relax his face. “You should be worried about that.”

“Why are you here?” he demanded.

“We’re investigating the Runny Pooer.”

“Investigative reporters? Get out! This is my story!”

“Private investigators hired by the shire council,” I said. “Stop being so weird.”

Tingle seemed panicked. “You’re trying to catch him?”

“Don’t you want to find out who did it?” Mum asked with a frown. Hercules-Athena honked her agreement. “That will give your series of articles a nice sense of closure.”

“Sure, one day, but you can’t nab him yet! I’m barely getting warmed up!”

I raised my eyebrows. “You want him to go free so you can keep writing about him?”

“Yes! He’s got at least three poos left in him, by my estimation.”

I narrowed my eyes. “How could you possibly know that?”

“Most people have a lot more than three left in them,” Mum said.

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