Eggs Benedict
By John Borneman

Mr. Benedict Gross never saw the freight train before it ran him down. He only knew that it was shorter than he, that it was dressed in black, and that it had extremely hard elbows and shoulders. It burst out of Whitbred's Jewelers, tumbled over Benedict, then dodged angry car horns and waving fists as it ran across the street.

Benedict might have had a chance to avoid the collision, except that he had been involved with repositioning several full plastic shopping bags from his left arm to his right while simultaneously searching his pockets for the key to his coffee shop.

He recovered his wits from amongst the flotsam of his packages and began lifting himself up. He had almost evolved from Neanderthal Man into the fully erect position of Homo Benedictus when Edgar Whitbred tottered out of the jewelry shop and knocked him back down.

Edgar looked down on Benedict and yelled, "Don't just lie there. Stop him! He stole the Egg!"

Benedict mumbled derogatory terms about inconsiderate idiots and clueless shopowners and re-collected his bags. He noticed a quarter lying on the sidewalk not far from where his hand was resting. He stood up bringing the coin with him.

"Hah! A 2002 Louisiana quarter. Minted in Denver. Excellent. I've been looking for that one."

Edgar bounced on his toes with frustration while pointing across the busy street. Benedict smiled and spoke.

"Shouldn't you call the police?"

The jeweler shrieked and spun in a circle. Toward his shop door, back toward Benedict, back to the shop door.

"Okay, Okay. I'll see if I can find which way he went."

Benedict sighed to himself. Looks like the coffee shop will have to wait a few more minutes to open, he thought. He placed the coin in his pants pocket, mustered his dignity and his plastic bags, and threaded his way through the steady stream of traffic after the thief. The black streak had disappeared inside Richville City Park directly across the street from the jewelry shop.

Benedict survived his journey through the challenges of small town rush hour and loped through the park entrance. He supposed the thief made a beeline across the park to Union Street. A smart theif would have an accomplice waiting on the other side.

Benedict wound his way along the curving path that led through the park to the opposite entrance. The smell of lilac and fresh-cut grass swept past his nose as he rushed through the park. "Running through the park on a spring day should be a crime punishable by law," he grumbled.

Before Benedict could reach the park's Union Street entrance, he heard screeching tires and a tremendous "thump." He puffed on through the gate and was greeted by the dead body of Edgar Whitbred's thief lying in the middle of Union Street. Paralyzed cars fretted all around the body. All traffic on Union Street halted. One of the cars released a wailing woman. "I didn't see him! He just appeared! I didn't see him! He just appeared!" She looked down at the lifeless body and fainted.

Benedict glanced at the lady. A gentlemen was lowering her to the street and waving a morning paper in her face.

Benedict bent over the body and felt for a pulse. The thief's lifeless wrist didn't oblige. He searched through pants pockets, under cuffs and inside the socks, under the shirt and under the arms. He even managed to confirm that nothing out of the ordinary existed inside the crotch of the dead man's pants.

Edgar Whitbred finally arrived, nearly as pale and out of breath as the dead man.

At the same time, an ambulance and a police car rushed up, cleared a path through the gaping cars, and deposited two EMTs and a patrolman. Whitbred accosted Benedict by yelling loudly into the back of his jacket.

"Did you find the Egg?"

Benedict turned so that the excited jeweler was addressing the front of his jacket, rather than the back. He looked down on the jeweler's bald head. "Well, Edgar, if a black velvet pouch is this egg you're after, then yes, I found it clenched in his hand."

"That's not the Egg, you fool! That is what the Egg was in. Did you check under him? Have you looked around? How about these people. Shouldn't you search them? How about his car? Look for his car!"

Benedict raised his voice. "Edgar! For one thing, I've only been here a few minutes longer than you. I haven't had a lot of time for searching anywhere except on the thief. For another, this bag..." He waved the velvet pouch in Edgar's face. "...has a hole in it. Your egg must have fallen out as he ran. Finally, I don't have to look anywhere for anything. That is what police are for."

On cue, the patrolman walked up to Benedict and the fidgeting jeweler.

"Good morning, Mr. Benedict. Err, Mr. Whitbred, right? I need to ask both of you some questions about our dead friend, but first I have to get the ambulance and the traffic sorted out. Would you gentlemen mind staying here for few minutes?"

Benedict glanced at his watch and slumped. "Ok, Brad. But realize that a significant portion of Richville will be forced to face the day without their mocha cappuccinos!"

He placed his hand on the policeman's sleeve to detain him a moment longer. "Edgar said that the dead man robbed his jewelry store. I searched him before you arrived but found only an empty jewelry bag. The goods must have fallen out somewhere in the park."

He half turned and stared out over the park fence.

"You may want to consider calling for an officer to drive over to the other gate and keep people out of the park for a while. And block off this entrance as well. At least we will be certain that no one runs off with Edgar's property again."

"And hurry!" squeaked Edgar Whitbred. "Every second counts."

The officer acknowledged the frantic jeweler's plea with a nod but addressed Benedict. "Good suggestion, sir. I'll call it in before I let the ambulance go."

"Excellent. If it is acceptable, Edgar and I will wait inside the park." Benedict stopped and stared at the accident scene. He motioned to the policeman and leaned over to whisper in his ear. The policeman nodded as Benedict spoke, then turned back to face four angry citizens, three blocked cars, two impatient EMTs, and one dead thief.

Benedict took Edgar by the arm and guided him back into the park. They stopped at a bench that provided a view of most of the park, including the Main Street gate and Edgar's shop.

"Sit." They sat. Benedict, willingly. Edgar Whitbred with a little firm guidance. Benedict placed his shopping bags down next to the bench.

"Edgar, is your store locked up? You left rather quickly?"

The jeweler nodded. "Yes. I still had the doors set to lock automatically. I wasn't open for business, yet.

"He was there when I arrived. I park in the back. I opened the rear door and stepped inside. The thief jumped up from in front of my safe, stuffed the EGG into one of my velvet pouches and ran for the front door."

"Well, you succeeded in dragging me into this. Would you please tell me what in the world is going on?"

"Benedict! We have to find it. The armored car from the museum comes at nine o' clock. If I can't produce it, I'll lose my reputation, maybe my store!"

Benedict smiled at the jeweler. He held out his arm and showed him his watch. "Look, Edgar. We have about thirty minutes until it is nine o'clock. Take three of them and tell me what was stolen." He waved towards the gate.

"See! The police have arrived. This Egg of yours has to be here, and no one is getting into the park until we let them."

The small man took a deep breath. "Have you heard of Faberge Eggs?"

"I've heard of them, but I know nothing beyond the fact that they're very beautiful and very expensive."

"Well," Edgar continued, "over a hundred years ago, Czar Alexander the third of Russia commissioned Peter Carl Faberge to create the first Imperial Easter Egg as a gift for his wife, Empress Maria Feodorovna. Every year thereafter until the Russian revolution, Faberge created for the czars the most intricate and beautiful pieces of artwork jewelry ever seen."

"So your missing Egg is--"

"No, no, no. It isn't a Faberge Egg! But it is, if you will, the second best thing. A student of Faberge's, Jacques Bordeaux, created an egg of his own. He sold every thing he had and begged, borrowed, or stole the rest to acquire enough gold, emeralds, sapphires and pearls to create what he called the Feodorovna Egg."

"Your Egg?"

"Yes, my Egg-- No, not my Egg. The one I was keeping. Bordeaux created his egg because he felt that he was a better artisan than Faberge. He called it the Feodorovna Egg because he hoped to deliver it directly to the Empress and cut Faberge out of the Czar's favor. Whether his mad plan would have worked, we'll never know. His creditors and his victims, among which were Carl Faberge himself, had him arrested for bad debt. They sold the Feodorovna Egg to a private collector in France to pay Bordeaux's debts. There it remained - until last year when the curator of the Musée d'Orsay in Paris found it in the museum's storage rooms."

Benedict touched the adrenalin pumped jeweler's arm. "Slow down, Edgar. I understand. How did you get the Egg?"

"It is now on a world tour and is currently here in Richville. It has been on display at the museum. Last night the curator came to me to ask if he could use my safe for the Egg. He assured me it was for only one night. Their security people found out about a plan to steal the Egg. They thought that if they secretly moved it to my store, they could fool the thieves. If it is gone, I'm ruined."

"It appears," Benedict observed, "that the thief or thieves were not easily fooled."

Edgar dropped his head. "No, I guess not." He caught Benedict's eyes and pleaded, "Now can we try to find it?"

Benedict gave him a pat of assurance on the leg and stood up. He studied his watch. It was eight twenty-eight. Although it promised to be a warm day, he felt a breeze fight its way through the park and past his face. Richville was fortunate that it had a city park with so many trees. Wherever playground equipment or picnic tables did not rule, the trees and flowering bushes did. Trees are good for kids. He smiled. Trees are also good for Benedicts.

Benedict placed his hands in his pockets and took an opportunity to breathe in the lilac smell. The Louisiana quarter, still in his pocket, touched his fingers. He looked back at his shopping bags on the park bench then turned to face his companion.

"Edgar, do you like Easter?"

Whitbred rolled his eyes and croaked, "Easter! What? Aren't you -- Aren't you going to look?"

"Does that mean no? Well, no matter. Edgar, you may search around if you wish, but stay here in the park, please. I'm going to take a walk. I'll be back soon." He picked up his bulky shopping bags and walked over to the policemen standing at the gate.

Benedict talked briefly to the officers. After a small argument, one of them relented and took one of the bags from him. As Benedict walked away, Edgar ran up to the policeman who was reaching into the plastic bag.

"Well, what are you going to do? Obviously, he's not going to be of any help."

The policemen smiled at the little man and pulled his hand out of the bag. It held a bright purple plastic Easter egg. Edgar Whitbred collapsed onto the grass in a pile of frustration.

Edgar Whitbred had given up all hope. The police were nowhere to be found. Right after Benedict left they disappeared into the park's trees. He had attempted to locate the Egg himself, but was unsuccessful. He leaned against a tree, laid his head back onto the rough bark, and closed his eyes. As his breathing slowed, he realized that he was hearing faint sounds of singing.

The singing became louder. It was definitely from outside the park. He could now make out words, faintly over the sounds of cars whooshing past.

"This ol' man. He played three. He played knick-knack on my knee..."

Edgar opened his eyes and saw Benedict. The man's six foot six inch frame made him appear gigantic next to the twenty or so small children that he had in tow behind him. Boys and girls were tied together with clasped hands. The first child's hand clenched firmly inside Benedict's big right hand. The last child's hand clenched inside the hands of a woman who was struggling to keep up the pace. Benedict marched his snake of children through the park gates and wound its way towards Edgar. Benedict was actually singing louder than his followers, and a little off key.

"...with a knick-knack patty whack, give a dog a bone. This ol' man came rolll linggg hommmmme!"

The children laughed. Benedict gathered them around him. He stood quietly in the middle of the group and waited for their silence. It soon came.

"Okay, kids. Here's the deal. Mr. Whitbred -- that gentleman over next to that tree -- has decided to have a surprise Easter egg hunt for Mrs. Beaman's Central Elementary Pre-School Class. That's you, right?"

Cheering started again, but then faded under the spell of their tall pied piper. Mrs. Beaman gave a hesitant smile at Benedict's effortless control over her class.

"Now, Mr. Whitbred and Officer Michaels have hidden fifty plastic eggs all over the park. For every egg you find, I'll give you a quarter." He held a quarter up for them, so they'd know he was telling the truth.

"And...Mr. Whitbred has hidden a very special gold egg in the park. Whoever finds that egg, will receive this!"

Benedict opened his second shopping bag and, with a touch of the dramatic, pulled out an eight-inch tall pure chocolate rabbit wrapped in green see-through plastic. A bright blue bow held it closed.

"Understand?" Twenty solemn heads nodded, eyes fixed upon the chocolate bunny. One worried-looking Mrs. Beaman nodded, too.

"Good. Then...go!"

Twenty children instantly disappeared into the park.

Benedict strolled over a to a nearby bench, sat down, stretched out his legs, and crossed his ankles. He sighed and watched the boys and girls with half-closed eyes. Laughter and delightful "tag, you're it" kind of screams filled the air. The policeman, the teacher, and the jeweler moved slowly towards each other as they watched the children. The policeman smiled. The teacher fidgeted. Edgar tried to keep from fainting.

Twenty minutes later Benedict had given out over ten dollars. The quarters provided courtesy of a nearby twenty-four-hour laundromat and one of his twenty-dollar bills. Almost all of his plastic eggs had been recovered and placed back into his shopping bags. An unbidden doubt formed in his mind. He mentally grabbed it by the scruff of the neck and threw it out.

"Ahh! I see you found a blue one! Your name is Billy. Right?" He watched the boy nod his head up and down. Benedict placed a quarter into the little boy's dirty hands. The policeman must have really enjoyed hiding the plastic eggs. This egg seemed to have been recovered from inside a rotted tree stump.

"Benedict!" Edgar marched up to the park bench where egg-finding court was being held.

"I want you to know that I am holding you responsible for the loss of the Feodorovna Egg! This madhouse you've created hasn't done any good. It's nearly nine o'clock. Even if I get the police to listen to me rather than you, and even if they can clear these children out and find the Egg, you've still ensured that my reputation is destroyed!"

Benedict looked out over the top of Edgar Whitbred's head. He noticed that a few children had stopped hunting for eggs and were playing games under the supervision of the kindergarten teacher. A single bead of sweat formed on his forehead and began to roll towards his nose.

"And another thing!" Edgar continued. "How do I know that you didn't find the Egg on that clumsy thief and hide it for yourself? How do I know that you really did search him? Maybe it's still in his pocket and some county morgue employee is stealing it as we speak. And how-- "

"Edgar, be quiet. You've gone too far."

Edgar's mouth shut.

Benedict fumed for a moment at Edgar's accusations, but realized the stress that the little jewelry store owner must be under.

The groaning and straining noise of a large truck shifting from first gear to second broke their standoff. They all watched as the museum's armored truck drove past the park and stopped outside Edgar's jewelry store. The armed guards began to lower themselves slowly out of the cab.

Edgar took a deep breath, frowned his eyes, and straightened his shoulders. "Well, I guess I'd better face the music." He nodded to Benedict and began walking to the park gate.

At that moment, Benedict felt a tug on his right pant leg. Looking down he saw a sprite-like little girl with large eyes and two red pigtails tied up with pink ribbons. The girl's smile overflowed her face and spilled onto Benedict. She opened her clenched-together hands. Inside, laid a three-inch-long, jewel-encrusted, enameled gold... masterpiece.

Benedict smiled. "Edgar?"

Edgar turned.

"Maybe you'd better take this with you?"

Benedict presented the giant chocolate rabbit to the bright-eyed little girl and congratulated her solemnly in front of all the other children. He then picked his shopping bags up from the ground and wandered across the park towards the Union Street gate.

Edgar stood next to Officer Michaels and watched Benedict leave. He had run back over to the park as soon as he had placed the Egg in the custody of the armored-truck drivers. He knew that by the end of the day he would have a great deal of explaining to do to a great deal of people. But not yet. First, he had to know something else.

He looked at the officer. "How? How did he do it? That silly insane plan actually worked! He had plastic eggs with him. He had a chocolate rabbit with him. He was walking past my shop, which is not on the way to his coffee shop. How?"

The policeman smiled. "Do you believe in coincidence?" Edgar looked confused so he continued. "We've had several police cases in which Mr. Benedict found himself involved, and the same type of thing always happens. As my chief tells it, Benedict Gross has been blessed with an abundance of fortuitous chance."

Edgar shook his head in disbelief. "I still think it is coincidence. I can't believe this happens to him all the time!"

"Well, have it your way." The officer began to walk away but paused and turned back towards the jeweler.

"By the way, Edgar. We've arrested the theif's accomplice. I imagine that right about now she is spilling the details to the DA."

Edgar glared at the officer. "Her?"

"Yeah. Odd situation. Mr. Benedict whispered to me that a smart theif would have an accomplice waiting for him. He suggested we start our questioning with the lady who fainted. He was right."

Edgar Whitbred shoke his head and slumped down onto a park bench. The policeman grinned and nudged him gently on the shoulder.

"Say! Tell you what. I'm off duty. How about you close the shop and join me for some breakfast. I read in last night's paper that Benedict's coffee shop is offering a new morning breakfast special."

"Oh?" Edgar shrank at the thought of having to face that man again so soon, but he did owe him an apology...and a thank you. "Well, okay. What's the special?"

Officer Michaels couldn't resist cracking a large smile when he answered Edgar.

"Eggs Benedict."

The End

Story copyright John Borneman, published by the Fortean Bureau
http://www.forteanbureau.com