Henny and Lloyd have settled into their dream jobs. Private eyes. Their careers have gotten off to a solid start, and they solved some tricky mysteries, but now some doozies come their way. An innocent request to accompany a young lady on a trip to visit college friends turns into a suspenseful hunt for a murderer. A seemingly easy assignment to guard a valuable Victorian Charles Dickens themed music box turns into a frantic hunt to find a murderer. A fretful request by a grandfather to help separate his granddaughter from a man not worth her time leads Henny and Lloyd into an intricate web of family tension and murder. A boxer goes missing on the eve of his challenge for the middleweight championship of the world, and Henny and Lloyd are hired to find him and get him to Madison Square Garden. Or else. Follow the adventures of two crack detectives, with a side dish of crime noir. Join the boys in their exciting, off-kilter adventures and watch them succeed where few others in their line of work could ever hope to.

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Dani unlocked the apartment door and we entered. “Mom?” she called. No answer. “Mom!” she tried again but still no answer. “She wouldn’t have gone out. Let me go find her.”

Henny and I walked through the vestibule into the living room, or in this case, let’s call it a drawing room. And I don’t mean for an artist. The room was enormous and had two red sofas and plush, upholstered, blue chairs spread around. A quick count showed me eight paintings hanging on the walls. Some fancy tables, a chest of drawers, and ornate table lamps graced the room. In such a lavish setting I felt it a requirement to stand up gentlemanly straight.

Dani returned. “I can’t find her.”

“How many rooms this place have?” Henny asked. “Looks like Baskerville Hall.”

“Eleven.”

I spoke up. “You looked in every room?”

“I looked in the two rooms where she might be. She wouldn’t be in my bedroom or bathroom, would she?”

Henny shrugged. “Miguel didn’t see her go out. And she was here when you left. Give us a tour.”

“Does she have a cellphone?” I asked.

“Yes, but there it is.” She pointed and I saw a phone sitting next to a lamp on one of the end tables.

“She often leave it behind?” Henny asked.

A crack in Dani’s facial facade appeared. “No,” she said. “No. Never. She always makes sure I have mine…so she can find me.”

“Let’s be certain she really did go out,” Henny said. I could feel his interest rising. A missing person!

“Oh, all right.” Dani gestured impatiently to the drawing room. “She’s not here, right?”

“Right,” I said. “One room down, ten to go.”

We went room to room and what a place! The idea of someone living in the same city as I did, having so much space to herself, even with two people living in the apartment, appalled me. Why was life so unfair?

“There, happy?” Dani said. “Only the library is left. Follow me.” She bustled down a hallway to a half-open door at the end. She stepped back and waved Henny and me inside. It being a library, it didn’t take long to read the writing on the wall. Mrs. Hortense Cabbington lay on the hearth of a large fireplace, dead as a mackerel, a bloody poker lying nearby.

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