“Look, Gus…I said I was sorry, all right?”
“Sorry isn’t gonna cut it this time, Shawn.” But, the way Gus said it, it sounded more like, “Dorry idn’t gonna cud id dis dime, Shawn.”
Shawn flinched as he looked over at the angry Gus sitting behind the wheel of his car. Gus had two black eyes – not one…two. But that wasn’t the worst part. Covering his nose was a large, bulky white bandage complete with a cotton compress shoved up his nostrils. Slowly, Shawn reached his hand over to touch it. Gus swatted him away at the last minute.
“When someone says they got it, you’re supposed to get out of the way,” Gus grumbled to Shawn in his nasally voice.
“Dude, I thought when you said ‘I got it,’ you meant ‘I got it - Shawn, that you’ve got it.’”
“That doesn’t even make sense!” Gus exclaimed.
“Doesn’t it?”
“No!”
“Come on. It can’t be all that bad.” But the glare Gus gave Shawn told him he should stop.
“You don’t understand, Shawn. I can’t smell a thing. You know the Super Smeller is an important part of me! You might as well have cut off my arm or something.”
“Don’t be such a dramatic Guster buster.” Shawn inched his arm toward Gus’s face again, but Gus swatted it away much more forcefully this time.
“Why are we at the station, Shawn? I should be at home, resting from your stupid pointy elbows.”
“My elbows are far from pointy. You know I have an aversion to pointy things. Can you imagine if I was afraid of my own elbows?”
“Shawn!”
“Right, okay. Juliet called and said that they could use some psychic deciphering with a breaking and entering case.”
“And you need me why?” Gus asked, sounding pissed off.
“Because you know the spirits are much more shy when you aren’t around. Something about your amazing resemblance to Philip Michael Thomas makes them feel like they are going to get the justice they deserve.”
“Stop playing, Shawn, and let’s get this over with,” Gus demanded, getting out of the car.
“Dude, maybe you should start wearing one of those sweet white suits over the pink shirt. That would look dope!”
Inside the station, they found Chief Vick, Detective Lassiter, and Detective O’Hara on the observation side of one of the interrogation rooms. When the two walked in, all three of them froze in the middle of talking and looked at them with wide eyes.
“Gus! What happened?” Juliet was the first to say.
Glaring at Shawn, Gus said, “Someone doesn’t know the meaning of ‘I’ve got it.’”
“Dude! I told you! I thought you meant--.”
“Okay, we don’t have time to go into this right now,” Karen interrupted, seeming flustered. But she couldn’t take her eyes off Gus. “Are you sure you’re up to this Mr. Guster? That looks pretty fresh.”
“He’s fine, Chief. Gus once played an entire game of t-ball with an ear infection. He’s tough as nails.”
“Double ear infection, actually,” Gus threw in with a smile.
“Okay,” Chief Vick said, looking back and forth between them. She then pointed to three homeless men sitting on the other side of the glass. “A Mr. Gregory came in today and said that he arrived home to find the door to his home ajar when he clearly remembered closing and locking it. Upon further inspection, he discovered that his antique pocket watch was missing. He ran back outside to find these three gentlemen in the ally behind his house. When he began to question them, they all fled.”
“Let me guess – they all say that they didn’t do it?” Shawn asked.
“Wow, psychic! That was amazing!” Lassiter said, his voice soaking wet with sarcasm.
“Lassie, I get the feeling you aren’t being sincere,” Shawn said, looking wounded.
“Gee, you think?”
“All right, gentlemen. That’s enough.”
“Chief, this is ridiculous!”
“Do you have a better idea, Detective?” Karen asked Lassiter, crossing her arms. “Because, last I checked, none of these guys was talking and we couldn’t find anything on them. We need something to get us going.” Lassiter just rolled his eyes.
Rubbing his hands together excitedly, Shawn said, “All right, let me at them.”
“Be my guest, Mr. Spencer. We’ll be right here.” Shawn and Gus went back into the hallway and Gus grabbed Shawn before he could proceed into the room with the suspects.
“And just how do you intend on figuring this one out, Shawn?”
“Gus, are you doubting me now? After all these years? You know I can read people like a book. I’ll just walk in, look them in the eye, and figure out who looks the guiltiest.”
“Sounds like you don’t need me. I’m going home,” Gus said, turning to go. But Shawn caught him.
“You can’t leave! You’re my anchor…my rock! I can’t do this without you. Besides…you’re my ride home.” Gus rolled his eyes, then motioned to the door with his hand. Shawn smiled and flung it open, took one step inside, then recoiled back.
“What’s wrong?” Gus asked as Shawn bent over in the hallway, gasping for air.
“You didn’t smell that?”
“Funny, Shawn.”
“Dude, I’m serious! Those bums smell like a mix of rotting sewage, rotten meat, and you after your last trip to Fat Burger.”
“I told you not to get me a milkshake, Shawn!” Gus yelled. Just then, Karen came walking out.
“Is there a problem, gentlemen?”
“No, Chief. The spirits were just a little…overwhelmed by the task at hand. I need a minute.”
“Well, hurry it up. We have plenty of other things to do,” she told them impatiently. Her eyes focused on someone approaching them from behind. “Oh, hello Mr. Gregory.” Shawn and Gus turned to see a grandfather type gentleman with round glasses and a big smile approaching them.
“Sorry it took me so long. This station feels kind of like a maze! I must have gone down twenty hallways before I found my way back here,” he smiled.
“Mr. Gregory, this is Shawn Spencer and Burton Guster. They’re…assisting us with the investigation,” Karen said, choosing her words carefully. Shawn raised an eyebrow at her and she shook her head.
Mr. Gregory smiled at Shawn and shook his hand, then gasped when his eyes fell on Gus. “What happened to you, son?”
“Pointy elbows,” Gus mumbled.
“Perfectly round,” Shawn corrected.
“Like little jagged rocks.”
“Little? Now that’s just plain mean, Gus.”
“Gentlemen,” Karen said, getting their attention with a stern look. Mr. Gregory looked between the two with a confused expression as he reached to his inside pocket and pulled out a pipe. Shawn’s eyes honed in on the small packet of cherry-flavored tobacco he used to fill it.
“No problem, Chief. We’ve got this,” Shawn told her with a smile. She nodded, then went back to the observation room with Mr. Gregory on her heels.
“We got this?” Gus asked after they were gone.
“Sure we do. Mr. Gregory smokes cherry-flavored tobacco. That means whichever of these guys smells like that tobacco was in his house. All we have to do is use the Super Smeller to…” Shawn trailed off, his eyes wide at Gus.
Crossing his arms smugly, Gus smiled. “I’m sorry, use the what? What were you saying?”
“Oh my gosh,” Shawn whispered quietly.
“Don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone, do you Shawn?” Gus laughed.
Shawn shook his head, then grabbed the front of Gus’s shirt. “Walk me through it.”
“What?”
“Walk me through it. Remember when I helped you be the psychic when your uncle Burton was in town? Just do the same thing!”
“Shawn, how in the world am I supposed to help you smell out something?”
“I’ll just tell you what I’m smelling. You know, describe it the best I can. Then you can figure out when I get to the tobacco scent! It’s perfect.”
“I don’t know, Shawn. You’re under the impression that this is any easy thing--”
“Gus,” Shawn said, waving his hand in the air. “How hard can it be? Now go back in the observation room and I’ll say what I’m smelling out loud. Then, when you’ve figured out which guy did it, tap on the microphone one, two, or three times.”
Gus shook his head. “Fine, but I still don’t think it’s going to work.”
“You doubt my amazing abilities, Gus. That stings.”
“You’re abilities are about as amazing as your elbows are round,” Gus muttered, walking over to the observation room. Shawn stood there for a moment, looking confused.
“So are you saying my elbows are round? I’m confused. Was that a compliment or an insult?” But Gus didn’t turn back as he went in the room.
Cracking his knuckles, Shawn opened the interrogation room door once more – and took a step back as the horrible stench of the homeless men washed over him.
“Maybe I am in over my head,” he whispered to himself once more. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door once more and forced himself in the room.
The bums looked very much the same – all with matted hair, dirty skin, and filthy layers of tattered worn clothing. They looked at him without much interest. Shawn walked up to the first one and let out the breath he was holding. Taking a small sniff, he started to gag.
In the observation room, Karen turned to Gus. “What is he doing?”
“Oh he’s, uh, eliciting the, uh, guilty aura by allowing the spirits to filter through his olfactory senses and--”
“He’s smelling them?” Lassiter asked in disbelief.
“Well, technically it’s--”
“Oh God,” they heard Shawn mumble as he approached the first man for the third time. They turned to watch as he shook his head and leaned in close to the bum. “The spirits are picking up something in the form of…,” he closed his eyes and gagged once more. “Something in the form of…rotten bananas and….and something that makes your mouth taste like you just threw up.” Shawn stood up straight and covered his mouth with his arm. “I think that’s because I did just throw up.”
“Well, I’ll be,” Mr. Gregory said from behind them. The three officers and Gus turned to face him. He was holding something gold and shiny in his hand. “It was in my pocket the whole time!”
“But what about the door?” Juliet asked.
“It was probably just Poppy,” Mr. Gregory laughed with an embarrassed smile.
“What’s a Poppy?” Lassiter asked, looking annoyed.
“My dog.” He laughed again and shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry to cause you all this trouble, officers.”
They all looked at each other again, then back through the glass at Shawn, who was leaning behind the second homeless man. His eyes were watering and he was cringing as he moved forward. After a small sniff, he flew back against the wall. “That’s just wrong,” he groaned.
“I guess we should get him out of there, huh?” Juliet spoke up. Karen started to pick up the microphone, but Gus stopped her with his hand.
“No, let’s let him figure it out for himself,” Gus smiled. “You know, we can’t have him upsetting the spirits because he cuts out on them early.”
“But he looks like he’s going to be sick,” Juliet said.
“Trust me,” Gus smiled even bigger. “He needs this.”