The Case of the Weird Notes P. II

Dear sleuthy readers,

I am as much a fan of riddles on post-its as the next sarcastic Goth person that comes along, but I am NOT a fan of running around. Not even when there are sales all over town do I run around. Yet, this seems to be an exception. What? It’s not like I have better things to do and I’d like to meet the person who’s doing this so I can kick the crazy out of him. Also, I may be a teensie weensie bit curious. Yes, I guess I’m human after all. Damn it.

The second post-it led me to the park where there’s a row of daisies by one of the benches. On the bench was the next post-it which led me to the local library, which in turn led me to the fountain in town where the final post-it read:

 Find the man with the hat

He’s sitting in the bloody café

He’s got a message for you at that

But hurry or he’ll walk away

The audacity. For all he knew I had tons of cases that needed my attention. For all he knew I had three torrid love affairs to maintain. For all he knew I was an international spy. And pregnant.

Okay, not sure which of those is most unbelievable.

The café, I knew, had to be Café Rouge. And lo and behold, there was a man with a hat. He also had a flower tucked in the breast pocket of his cheap suit, as well as a moustache fastened under his nose.

“Are you post-it guy?” I asked. And of course he looked up at me with a mischievous smile drawn on his middle-aged face as he drew out a long and purring “yes.”

Now, dear reader, why do you think he wanted to hire me?

a)      He was indeed a poet and wanted to hire me to find his Muse

b)      He had a mystery to solve and needed my help

c)       He had lost someone and needed my help

d)      He was playing a prank on me

Oh, the joys of mysteries.


Penelope out!


Mood:  Tolerating life.

Hair: Messy.

Clothes: Black, black, red.

Random word of the day: Pellucid (meaning: easily intelligible, clear).


The Case of the Weird Notes

I love notes, they help me keep track of stuff I’ll forget to do. Yep, notes and I have a special kind of relationship. Usually I lose them on an hourly basis no matter where I put them. Once I even managed to lose one I had stuck to my forehead. I’d like to think it’s the Penelope Curse, but I’m probably just immensely stupid. But you know, in a good way.
Imagine my surprise when I actually found a note on my desk as I came into work. It wasn’t in my handwriting or PI Addison’s. It said the following…

Though you can’t see it, it’s still here

My friend likes hiding in the changing dark

Don’t worry, it’s not far, it’s near

Get a handle on it or you won’t see the smile mark

Very poetic, huh? And weird. It might, therefore, be a poet. I mean, it’s probably a totally normal way for a weird guy to hire a PI, no? The main question, I want to know…how the hell did he get in the office? A weird guy with breaking-and-entering skills. Alarm bells, anyone?

After a hot chocolate I put on my smart socks and figured out the riddle. The ‘friend’ in the riddle is clearly another post-it. It has to be in this office, because it’s close-by. This office is mostly file cabinets and drawers and ‘the changing dark’ could refer to a drawer. If you close it, it’s dark (for whatever is in there) and when you open it, it’s light. Also, there was a smiley sticker on one of the drawers in PI Addison’s office that wasn’t there before. I also know he couldn’t have done it, because he ain’t exactly the smiley face type of guy. Men…they don’t make them like they used to.

The other post-it said this:

You can’t find me, I’m not here

I’m quite far, I’m not near

Like the breadcrumbs you must follow

Find the flowers in a row

Yep, this definitely has to be a weirdo poet who doesn’t have a day job and probably wants me to find out which pigeon stole his sandwich at the park. After I find him first, of course. Like I don’t have better things to do…Actually I don’t. Most people are on holiday to some hot country, including PI Addison. Well, he’s still in England, though right now, that’s pretty hot too. *insert self-pitying sigh* Boredom + weird riddles = why not?

Who do you think the crazy poetic post-it person is?

You’ll find out next time. If I haven’t melted by then. If you don’t hear from me in a week…avenge my death.


Penelope out!


Mood: on fire. (It’s technically not a mood, but I’m making it one!)

Food: Ice cubes pressed upon my person.

Clothes:  too short (but nobody sees me, so it’s okay).

Snacks: Ice cream (that must be eaten in record time).

Extra comments: DAMN, it’s hot!

Random word of the day: pyrolysis (meaning: the chemical process of decomposition under the effect of heat).


The Mini-Case of the Missing Pen

Dear sleuthy readers,

You know those days where your boss is a cranky-pants and likes to complain to you about it while you have better things to do. Yeah, love those days. In this case, such a day turned into a case. A mini case. A silly case. But I’m still sharing it with you. You’ll see why.

I was sitting at my desk, typing up one of my files when PI Addison was grumbling something about losing his favourite fountain pen. It was engraved and everything. Now, I’m not one to stand between the love of a man and his pen so I suggested I’d help him find it, since I’m good at finding lost things…and I hate typing up files.

The first thing you should do when you’ve lost something is retrace your steps. So I asked Addison where he’d last seen his precious baby and where he’d been between that time and now. First of all I was to understand that his pen was NOT his precious baby, second he hadn’t left his office and he’d seen it there this morning.

That’s an important clue because it means it’s still in the office, but when we went to look EVERYWHERE, it wasn’t there. So what happened? Did a dragon eat it? Did a mouse kidnap it? Did it fly out of the window to marry another fountain pen?

Think outside the box, people. The box may be snug and comfortable but that is usually not where the truth lies. The only thing that was also in the room, along with the pen was Addison himself.

Upon forcing a search on Addison, he discovered the fountain pen in his breast pocket, hidden under  his jacket. This didn’t do much to improve his sunny disposition but hey, I said I’d found it and I did.

Unfortunately I don’t get paid for small mini-cases like that, so scurrying back to my files.

Luckily the Goddess of Mysteries smiles favourably on me because at that moment a dishevelled-looking woman dashed into our office. There’s nothing like a damsel in distress to spice up your day. She wanted our help, but do you know why? No, you don’t, but you may guess…


a)      She had been mugged nearby and was looking for help

b)      She had attacked her ex and needed somewhere to hide

c)       She had jumped out of a moving car because her mother was being a Hyacinth

d)      She had lost her six year old son


Hmm, it’s probably fair if I give you a vague clue that you probably won’t understand…Here it is:


What isn’t lost can’t be found,

What isn’t yours can’t be bound.

The truth isn’t hiding if it’s in plain sight,

And two wrongs don’t make a right.


Weird and vague, right? Good. I have to keep you busy until I lift up the veil a bit more next time.

Until then, dear sleuthy reader.


Penelope out!


Mood: Curious.

Hair: Messy. But in a good way.

Food: Skittles. It counts.

Random word of the day: Vulpine (meaning: fox-like; cunning).