“I want results,” said Bellis, “and I want them fast. I need the culprit banged up at the hurry-up. And if I do not have the real culprit, I will have to make do with the next best thing. Do I make myself clear?”

“Very clear,” said Jack. “Please stop doing that to Eddie.”

“Always the little bear’s protector.”

“Eddie is my friend. Please let go of his paw.”

Bellis let go of Eddie’s paw. Eddie gave it rubbings with his other one.

“You wouldn’t want any harm to come to this dear little chap, would you, Jack?” asked Bellis, smiling horribly. “Such a pity that would be.”

“There’s no need for this.” Jack glared daggers at the chief inspector. “We are doing all that we can. We want to sort this out as much as you do. Especially after what happened to us.”

“What?” said Bellis. “What is this of which you speak?”

“Jack’s talking about Old King Cole’s,” said Eddie. “That’s what you were talking about, wasn’t it, Jack?” Eddie made a frowning face at Jack.

“Ah,” said Jack. “Ah, yes. That’s exactly what I was talking about. Very upsetting for me, that was. I didn’t sleep a wink last night.”

“Yes,” said Bellis. “You certainly look like shi –”

“Two Big Boy’s Blow-Out Breakfasts,” said a waitress. A long dolly waitress, with long dolly legs that went right up. “Excuse me, sir, if you would.”

Bellis rose from his chair and gazed down upon the two detectives. “Results,” said he. “And fast. Or else.” And he drew a rubber finger across his rubber throat. “Enjoy your breakfasts.”

And Bellis departed.

“What a bastard,” said Jack.

“Language,” said Eddie. “There’s a lady present.”

“Oh, that’s all right,” said the waitress. “I’m not much of a lady. A couple of drinks and I’m anyone’s, really.”

“Really?” said Jack. “What time do you finish your shift?”

“Jack,” said Eddie.

“Sorry,” said Jack.

“Six o’clock,” said the waitress.

“Jack,” said Eddie.

“Might we have a pot of coffee, please?” said Jack.

The waitress departed and Jack watched her do so.

“Please keep your mind on the case,” said Eddie. “You’re as randy as.”

“I think she fancies me,” said Jack.

“Of course she fancies you,” said Eddie.

“I have a definite way with the ladies,” said Jack, preening at his trenchcoat lapels.

“You don’t,” said Eddie, tucking into his breakfast.

“I do,” said Jack, now tucking into his. “Amelie says that she loves me.”

“Well, of course she would.” Eddie thrust breakfast into his mouth, which made his words difficult to interpret.

“Because I’m so handsome and nice,” said Jack, although there was much of the, “Beccmmnth mmn sm hndsmn and nnnce,” about the way he said it.

“No, Jack,” said Eddie. “That’s not why and you know it.”

“It is why,” said Jack. “Sort of.”

“Not,” said Eddie. “It’s because you’re a meathead, Jack. Amelie could aspire to nothing better than marrying a meathead. Any meathead.”

“That’s rubbish,” said Jack, spitting muffin as he said it. “She loves me for me, not for what I am.”

“Don’t kid yourself,” said Eddie, spitting pancake back at Jack. “You have meathead status. Why do you think she wanted you to take her to Old King Cole’s? What was that fight you got into about?”

“I never mentioned to you that I’d got into a fight.”

“Evidence,” said Eddie, making a breezy paw gesture towards his partner against crime. “You punched someone. And someone else – a lady, I presume – struck you several times with a sequinned handbag.”

“You really are a very good detective,” said Jack.

“I’m a special detective,” said Eddie. “But believe me, Jack, cruel as it sounds, she loves you for your status.”

“Well, all thanks for that,” said Jack.

“All thanks? I thought you’d be devastated.”

“Well, I’m not, you cruel little sod.”

“Less of the little.”

“I’m not ready to get involved in another relationship,” said Jack. “I’m still smarting from the last one. I’ll settle for the deeply satisfying shallow sex and have done with it for now.”

“You’re a very bad boy,” said Eddie.

“I’m a teenage boy,” said Jack. “What do you expect from me, sincerity?”

“Stop now,” said Eddie. “It’s too early in the day for such honesty. Tuck into your breakfast, then we’ll get this hypnotism thing done. Then –”

“Then?” said Jack.

“I really don’t have a clue,” said Eddie.

Their breakfasting done and their bellies distended, the two detectives dabbed at their mouths with napkins and grinned at one another.

“It’s not a bad old life,” said Jack.

“It has its moments,” said Eddie.

Jack went up and paid the bill.

And took the waitress’s telephone number.

Jack wound up Bill’s car and he and Eddie entered it.

“So, where to?” Jack asked.

“The circus,” said Eddie, “that’s where.”

“I don’t like the circus,” said Jack. “I’ve never been one for clowns.”

“Odd that, isn’t it?” said Eddie. “Clowns are such a popular thing at the circus, but you’ll never find anyone who actually likes them. Odd that, isn’t it?”

Jack shrugged and said, “I suppose so. So where is this circus?”

“I’ll guide you,” said Eddie. “But please drive slowly or I’ll throw up in your lap.”

Jack drove slowly, with considerable care. He followed Eddie’s guidings and eventually drew up the car before a rather colourful funfair affair in a part of the city that he’d never been to before.

Jack looked up at the colourful banner that hung between colourful posts. “Count Otto Black’s Circus Fantastique,” he read. Aloud.

“You’ll like the count,” said Eddie. “Or at least I hope you will.”

“You do?”

“Yes,” said Eddie, “because then it will sort of balance things out.”

“It will?”

“It will,” said Eddie, “because I can’t stand the sight of him.”

The sight of him was something to behold. At Eddie’s urging, Jack knocked upon the colourful door of a colourful gypsyesque caravan. This door opened and Jack beheld Count Otto Black.

Count Otto Black was tall. He was beyond tall, if such a thing is possible. Beyond tall and well gaunt with it was the count. High above on his facial regions were wonderful cheekbones, just beneath deeply set eyes of the deepest of sets. And just above a great black beard that nearly fell to his waist, the count’s nose was a slender arc; the count’s hair, long and black. Count Otto Black wore wonderful robes of rich purple velvet and plush. Mystical rings adorned his long and slender fingers.

“Count Otto,” called Eddie. “Hello up there.”

Count Otto Black gazed down upon his visitors.

“I must be off now,” said Jack.

“No you mustn’t,” said Eddie.

“Oh yes, I really must.”

“So,” said Count Otto Black. And it was a long and deep “So”. “So, Eddie Bear, you have returned.”

“Like the old bad penny,” said Eddie. “You look well.”

Jack looked down upon Eddie Bear. Eddie looked far from at ease.

“Let’s go,” whispered Jack. “I don’t like this fellow at all.”

Count Otto Black took a step back and the colourful door began closing.

“No, please, your countship,” called Eddie, “this is very important. We’re sorry to bother you, but it is important. You are the only one who can help us.”

The colourful door reopened a tad.

“We need you to use your special powers.”

“Ah,” said the voice of the count. “You are hoping once more to become Toy City’s greatest hypnotist.”

“No,” said Eddie. “Not that.”

“I still bear the scars on my ankles,” said the voice of the count.

Jack looked at Eddie. “I thought you said –”

“I did apologise for that,” said Eddie, ignoring Jack.

“Only after I kicked you over the big top,” said the voice of the count.