The Codfish Carbuncle Case: Chapter 1
The Codfish Carbuncle Case
The gray morning sky clouds hovered over Nantucket. Howard Benson, a local fishmonger, drove down the street to his family’s shop, Howard and Son.
Jeremy was already waiting for him. He and his father caught local fish for the store with help from Sawyer, a family friend who owned a boat. On Tuesdays, it was Jeremy’s turn to fish.
Howard’s truck crunched over the gravel parking lot of the fish shop. Jeremy stood by the back door, in a blue jacket blowing on his hands to stay warm.
Howard got out of the car and sighed, “Hey Jay, what did Ma always tell you?”
Jeremy smiled, “Always wear gloves in winter. But they smell so bad after we get back.”
“Smelly hands are better than frostbite,” Howard said with a chuckle and walked inside. The backroom smelled of the sea, just as it had since the store opened in 1954.
“Did you get a good haul?” Howard asked, turning on the lights.
“Oh yeah! The best so far this year! See!”
The prep area was full of fish: flounder, bay scallops, clams, quahogs, black sea bass, halibut, and large Atlantic codfish.
Howard rubbed his hands together. “This is amazing! We’ll do well today, and we’ll have enough for chowder and baked cod for dinner!”
“Great! I’ll call Ma later and tell her to pick up crackers!”
“Ahem!” called another voice from the front. Sawyer, a big man with a bushy mustache and eyebrows, came in carrying a crate of mussels. “Before you call her, let’s get the seafood ready for the customers.”
“Right! You’re always ready to work Sawyer. Ever think about taking a vacation?”
Sawyer laughed, “I love this job. Besides, with two of my boats not working, I need to earn more money.”
“We get it. Sawyer, you write today’s specials while Jeremy and I get the fish ready. Let’s start with the cod.”
Jeremy picked out the biggest one first. “Sawyer caught this one.”
“It’s beautiful!” Howard said. “I bet Mrs. Johnson will be our first customer. Her daughter, Wendy said she wants to make bouillabaisse.”
“I know, Wendy told me that ever since her mom got that Julia Child cookbook, she’s been giving even Ma a run for her money.”
“I’ll tell your mother what you said if you don’t help me,” Howard said with a smile as he scaled.
Jeremy got to work right away. As he and his father gutted the cod, their knife hit something small and solid.
“What was that?” Howard asked.
Jeremy reached into the stomach with his gloved hand and pulled out a round, deep red stone with a purple dot in the center.
Both men stared in shock. Howard held it up to the fluorescent light, and it cast a red glow on the pale fish guts. “Either the shellfish are making gems now, or someone’s rich enough to use jewels as bait!”
Jeremy hurried to get Sawyer and brought him into the backroom.
“I’m a good fisherman, but this is amazing! Is it a ruby?”
“Maybe. I’m no jewelry expert,” Jeremy said.
“Whatever it is, it’s gorgeous!” Howard exclaimed.
“Hello? Is the cod ready yet?” called an older woman’s voice from the front of the store.
“Just a minute, Mrs. Johnson, but you have to see this!”
. . .
By lunchtime, the community was talking about the gem found in the day’s catch. Several people made offers, but Howard told them to wait until he set a bidding.
At two o’clock, a Rolls Royce pulled up outside the shop. Two men, one tall and one thin, came in while Jeremy wiped the counter.
“Can I help you?” Jeremy asked.
The thin man looked around the shop. “Sir, is this where the red gemstone is?” He spoke with a British accent.
“Oh yeah! It was inside a cod’s stomach. Our boatman, Sawyer, caught it.”
“May we see him?”
Jeremy called for Sawyer, who came in from the backroom.
“Are you the man who caught the fish that swallowed the red jewel?”
“Yes, I am,” Sawyer said, puffing out his chest.
“May I see it?”
Sawyer took out the stone, and the two men examined it.
“This is definitely the carbuncle. Please come with us to the police station, or we will use force.”
“Dad!” Jeremy cried out.
Howard ran to the front of the store to see what was happening.
“What the hell is going on?”
The thin man looked at him. “Sir, this man is under arrest for the theft of My Grace, the Duchess of Essex’s prized heirloom, the Crown Carbuncle!”
Editor: Lucy Cafiero
