Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine. Vol. 40, No. 6, June, 1995

“Ah, Thaddeus, Thaddeus,” sighed Edgar. “An experienced detective goes beyond simple appearances. Have I ever told you about the case of the Baldheaded Countess? Or the case of the Bogus Bosom? I thought not. You say she told you she is a possible client and wants to see me about a case?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tell me, Thaddeus, have we had more clients or bill collectors in this office recently?”

“Well...”

“And would a bill collector come in here and say he is a bill collector? Of course not. He would say he is a client, and if he is a bill collector who has been unsuccessful in getting to see me in the past, he might try a disguise — he might perhaps dress up as a woman. Things are not always what they seem, young man. Now stop scratching that pimple, and show this so-called lady client in.”

Even Snavely had to be impressed with the disguise. Edwina appeared to be a petite blonde in her well-cared-for middle thirties. Her expensive red dress fitted her so well that any due bill she might have tried to hide, no matter how thin, would have to be hidden in her handbag. She flowed into the dingy office and seated herself in one of the upright chairs facing the desk. From the doorway, Thaddeus’s eager eyes followed her every move until she sat down and crossed her legs. Thaddeus blinked and looked at Edgar.

“You can come in also, Thaddeus,” Edgar said. “I would like you to take notes of this meeting. It might be educational for you.

“And now, Ms. Lamore,” said Edgar, turning his piercing eyes on the client. “If I may hear your story.”

“My problem is that my cockatoo is missing.”

“Mmmm?”

“Yes. You see, I recently had to go to Denmark for an operation. I had my cockatoo when I left the United States, but when I returned, I discovered it was gone.”

“And that surprised you?” asked Edgar with an arch smile.

“Of course. I had grown very attached to it. I would give anything to have it back.”

“I can understand that,” said Edgar sympathetically.

“A cockatoo is a parrotlike bird from Australia,” offered Thaddeus. “They make very good pets, and...”

“I know what a cockatoo is,” said Edgar. “Please continue, Ms. Lamore.”

“I lent Foo-Foo — that’s my cockatoo — and her stand to my next door neighbor, Igor Cranston. Foo-Foo never needed a cage. She would fly around my living room when she wanted to, but she always returned to her bird stand. I was never afraid she would fly away. Igor said he would take care of her while I was away. He seemed like such a nice man. Now they are both gone.” She took a tiny handkerchief from her handbag and dabbed it under her eye.

Edgar applied his most comforting smile, but his sharp eyes never lost their inquisitive glint. “I’m sure we can help you, Ms. Lamore. There is a fee, of course...”

“It is Miss Lamore now. My husband passed away two years ago and left me with quite a bit of money. I have been well taken care of...” Edwina cast a sideways glance at Thaddeus. “At least monetarily. Money will be no problem.”

Edgar stood up and reloaded his meerschaum from a tobacco can in the desk drawer. “It would help if you could describe your cockatoo and your neighbor in as much detail as you can. Thaddeus, take notes.”

Edwina put her handkerchief in her handbag. “Foo-Foo is all white with a beautiful white crest. She can count to ten. Igor is bald, five foot eight or nine, and can probably count much higher. I made the mistake of telling Igor how valuable Foo-Foo is, but I never expected him to move away while I was gone and take Foo-Foo with him. He knows how much I loved my cockatoo.” Edwina leaned closer to the notetaking Thaddeus so he might more accurately record her words. “I have a lot of love to give, you see, so I lavished all my affections on Foo-Foo. She was all I had at the time.”

She looked sadly at Thaddeus. Thaddeus scribbled faster.

“I had circulars printed and passed around the neighborhood asking for the return of my bird,” continued Edwina, “but so far I have had no response. Now I feel I must have professional help to find Igor and Foo-Foo.”

“Did this Igor Cranston ever tell you what his occupation was?” asked Edgar.

“All Igor ever said about his work was that it had to do with money.”

“Mmmm...” offered Edgar. He blew a heavily aromatic cloud to the ceiling. “That’s not much to go on, but we will do our best. Now if you will return home, Miss Lamore, you can leave your problem in our hands. We will contact you as soon as we have any information.”

As soon as the door closed behind Edwina, Edgar turned to Thaddeus, “There is more to this game than meets the eye, Thaddeus. Tell me what you observed about our client.”

“Well, she seems to miss her cockatoo...”

“Just as I thought. You insist on seeing only the obvious. What about the disguise?”

“The disguise?”

“Of course. It was just about perfect. To anyone but a trained observer, it would appear that an attractive, probably sexually hungry woman was interested in finding a missing cockatoo.”

“That’s what she said...”