Constance Caraway P.I. ~ Episode 29

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Constance Caraway P.I. ~ Episode 29

…you Florida gals haven’t lived until you’ve eaten at a White Castle…

“Back to the University, Eddie!” Constance orders.

“Yeah and don’t spare the horses, I know!” The gregarious cabby is all jacked to get some action. It seems that while waiting for the other two, they were not just twiddling their thumbs. “Hey, show ‘em what you found when you jimmied that lock.”

“Fanny?”

“I couldn’t resist,” Fanny holds up what appears to be a device, electronic in nature.

Constance looks at Martin, who shrugs his shoulder. “Put it in the trunk. We’ll make some sense out of that back in the city.”

The Packard’s trunk is unlatched and the unlatched portfolio is placed inside, as if it were cursed.

“Say, can we get something to eat, I’m starved?” pleads Eddie.

“Any suggestions? I don’t know if we have time to waste.” Connie inquires.

“Hey, my tummy is growling. We passed a White Castle on the way down, over on Halsted. It’s on the way and you Florida gals haven’t lived until you’ve eaten at a White Castle. No waiters or tipping!”

“Sliders,” Martin confirms with some disdain. White Castle Restaurants are burger joints famous for their size: small, requiring more than one to fill you up. The white castle building is modeled after Chicago’s Water Tower, one of the few structures to escape the Great Fire of 1871.

“Alright, eating at a castle sounds romantic,” ever the conduit for positivism, Fanny adds her Eddie's Cousins-001approval. “Let’s go inside.”

“My treat,” Eddie insists. “My cousin Harold (#2 if you’re keeping score)) owns White Castle stock; says it’s the best investment out there. They call it fast-food; I call it heaven, in three bites or less.”

“Heaven and hell intersect at Halsted & 179th Street.”

“What’s that Marty?”

Martin need not clarify.

All of a sudden Eddie swerves to miss a wayward black sedan. His passengers are jostled about. “That goof almost hit us! He must be on his way home from the tavern!”

Once they safely gain White Castle’s dining area, standing at the counter, Eddie does the ordering, “A Variety Sack of 30 and three Cokes.”

Constance picks out a booth by the front window, where Homewood meets Glenwood. “Busy street,” she comments.


Constance Caraway P.I.

Forever Mastadon


page 28

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