The Case And The Hunt

Act I: Scene III

DATE: Monday, Oct 28th, 1946
LOCATION: The Big Apple Bar
TIME: 8:02 PM/20:02 hrs

Hey, it stopped raining!

I had already questioned the owners of the other bars Amelia had sung at on the weekends before her disappearance. I received the same answer with every location. There was no sign of suspicious activity with her or anyone else. Meaning until I find something significant enough as an addition, I will be right back at the beginning with even more questions than answers.

I will be counting an additional step to being a private eye. If ever you are in a moment when you feel surrounded by questions rather than answers, the best thing you can do is take a breather and go over the clues you've acquired from the beginning. Always start with your notebook.

Her looks: Naturally curly red hair, blue eyes, freckled face, medium height, and weight. Last seen in a dark blue dress.

Her history/occupations: Former team member of The Memphis City Gazette and bar/casino performer on weekends.

Miscellaneous clues/tips: Tough and diligent.

Remember: even the smallest thing could become the biggest further down the road.

Even so, I looped the notes in my head over and over, yet nothing came into my mind. I had to keep searching for answers and my only hope of where to start the next portion of Amelia's disappearance was at this location. The Big Apple. One of the oldest bars in south Memphis. I needed to find someone in charge of this location. Someone who knew Amelia before she was taken.

Luckily, that wish would quickly come true.

The waitress was an ample older woman with a dark red dress, a pink and white apron with curly hazelnut hair. She had the face of an evil stepmother with the most hideous makeup I've ever seen applied on a woman. Blue eye shadow, red lips, bright pink cheeks. She looked like a man dressed in a woman's clothing. I am not saying it is a man, but she is eerily reminiscent. She brought me a glass of whisky I could only believe was a serving of gasoline on ice after I took a sip.

I cleared my throat and offered my thanks. "Say, miss, where is that one dame who used to sing every other weekend? I forget her name, but she was a pretty girl. Something Tidwell."

"You must be talking about Amelia." She croaked. "I can't say I know where she is. Though, a little birdy told me she was missing. Not that I believe it, but it could be possible."

I shook my head. "Doggone it. A real shame. I hope she is alright. I wished I ask her to dinner when the chance was mine."

"I'm afraid it would do you no good, sir. She was courting someone at the time of her disappearance. Poor Hugo, I wonder how he is."

Wait, what?

"I beg your pardon, ma'am. Who?"

"Hugo O'Donoghue. The man courting Amelia Tidwell. She's a blessed girl, sir. Because he is a catch."

A first possible suspect? Only time will tell. But for now, I had to learn more about Mr. O'Donoghue if I wanted to include him in the case. Remembering Step #11, I began thinking of a story to tell this waitress. "Now that name sounds familiar." I dig my first few inches. "Not sure where I've heard it, but I have. Would you mind clarifying more about him?"

"He's a fetching fellow." She sat across from me. "He's tall, muscular, clean-shaven, the voice of God himself." She shivered from his description. "What a hunk! She never spoke about him, but he always drove her to and from her home. I would always see them in the alleyway behind the building talking to each other. Even as it rained, they would always stand and talk for hours just outside of their vehicle."