The World's Smallest Detective

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Millita and the thief of the medallion

Chapter 2: The World's Smallest Detective

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It couldn't be! Millita's friend, Clara, had been arrested!

There was no use, no matter how much the sweet girl begged or explained herself, none of the policemen believed her. Pulling her without any consideration, they put her into a patrol car and then the sirens of the vehicle began to sound with a roar as their lights spun on their axles and unfolded their red and blue lights, of course no one could appreciate this as the clarity of the day overshadowed their annoying brightness.

"Clara, Clarita! Don't take her away! She hasn't done anything wrong," shouted Millita, trying to get the attention of the police, but it's well known that humans don't pay attention to any animal and don't understand its language.

Needless to say, the media in general, that is, the newspaper, radio and television in particular, got their carnival with the news of Clara's arrest. Nobody cared that a trial had not yet taken place, nobody even cared that there was not a formal accusation against the young woman, everyone was already giving their irresponsible verdict: the black woman is to blame.

Anyway, it better sell a "catch the thief" instead of "finds a suspect".

To worsen the situation of the innocent girl, it turns out that the night before there was a blackout in the place where the real thieves stole the medal: the pink zone of the City of El Alto. So, nothing, no evidence could point in Clara's favor.

Surely the reader wonders at this point: How was it that the greatest symbol of Bolivia, which was given to it by the same Liberator Simón Bolívar, in his will to the country, was stolen, like a vulgar cheap wallet?

It is said that reality far surpasses fiction, and in this case it is just that, since I am sure that not even Roberto Gómez Bolaños, with his absurd fictional characters, would have imagined an avatar of his acting in such a careless way.

You see, the medal in question had to be guarded by a soldier, who, unable to start his car, took a taxi, which, like most of this public service, was driven by someone who had no idea where this or that street was. The taxi driver made one and a thousand turns to leave the soldier six blocks away from the entrance of the airport and on top of that, charge him a lot of money, starting at full speed without waiting for his passenger to get out of the car completely.

As expected, the subject missed the flight and left for the parking area without knowing what to do next. It is in that instant when three subjects inside a minibus, suggested to him to go to the pink zone of the city until the next flight arrives with destination to the city where the patriotic parade would be celebrated, civic event in which the president should take the medal guarded.

The soldier thought it would be convenient to return home, take more money and see if he could start his car.

"We are already leaving," said the driver of the minibus who, with the typical luck of his kind, was glad to discover that the soldier lived right on the route that covered his line of transport.

Passengers who climbed here and there, passengers who climbed down at every corner and at the end, the soldier arrived at his house, a dwelling that was marked in the minds of the three antisocials.

The custodian of the medal took a shower, took the money and fortunately started the car, then went where the thieves suggested, he did not imagine that they were already in his footsteps.

The irresponsible uniformed was of establishment in establishment, that of respectable they had nothing, and at the end, to the front of one of these, he left his car, with a backpack in whose interior was the medal.

As the saying goes, so to speak: to the honest man everything is demanded and to the thief everything is given easily. And this was the case because a blackout, apart from giving them greater coverage of their despicable activities, also gave them the advantage of not being recorded by any camera.

The thieves already in their dwelling, seeing that they had stolen the medal, panicked and put the medal back in the backpack, which had been put in a garbage bag and thrown into the atrium of the church, or that was the intention, because in the end, they were defeated by greed and in the backpack only put the presidential band.

And that, in short, is the story, but let's go back with our mustached and furry heroine.

"And now, what does Don Cuchicuchi advise me to do?" Begged Millita tearfully to an old tricolor cat who, in order to conceal his baldness, wore a tiny hat, just like those worn by our grandparents before the invention of television.

Don Cuchicuchi, was the cat to which everyone in the vicinity went in case of having a serious problem, and it is that the old feline always seemed to have the best advice for each occasion, and if Millita's problem was not pressing, then he didn't know what it could be.

"Hmmm, from what you say Millita, nobody is investigating whether your friend is innocent or not."

"She's innocent!"

"I know, but it has to be proven and apparently the humans have already made their decision."

"It is unfair that they don't investigate, saying that Clara's family is the one that must prove their innocence, they look like the A.J."

"Yes, it would be normal for them to investigate, but they are under a lot of pressure to find a culprit and your friend, I'm sorry to say, is a good scapegoat, with my apologies to the goats, who are very honest animal friends."

"But that's very unfair, what can I do to help Clara?"

"Well, if humans don't move, there's no other way than for you, Millita, to act as a detective."

"Me, a detective?"

"Yes, the problem is that only humans can be detectives, we can't because are cats, but... I think I have something that might help you with that."

The old pussy turned around and went after the alley, entered his owners' house through the pet entrance and after a while came back in what appeared to be a cholita costume, one in miniature.

"Here, I took this costume from where I got my hat. If you wear it you can pass for a detective."

"Thank you, Don Cuchicuchi! May God pay you!"

Now Millita had a way to make inquiries. She put on the cholita costume and went to the place where the presidential medal was stolen.

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It's amazing how people can now pay attention to someone they didn't even look at even though they were right in front of their noses, because although Millita did nothing but meow, the people she interviewed understood her in some way and they told her everything they knew about the night of the blackout when the national emblem was stolen.

Animals, unlike people, pay attention to humans, may not understand them, but they do know how to understand enough, and that is how Millita understood that during the night, only animals frequented the surroundings on the night of the robbery.

So Millita went to the neighborhood cats and dogs to see if they knew anything.

She didn't have a problem with her species, something else was with the dogs, who became a little suspicious, but when they saw how the little detective was wearing human clothes, they let her ask questions without complaining too much.

"A minibus?"

"It was a white minibus, with black glass, you couldn't see inside."

"Then there were the real thieves."

"Yes, it's no wonder. Many minibus lines don't care who their drivers are, these leaders syndicates are only good for fattening."

"Very true, it's true. You want to ask something else?"

Millita now had a clue, the problem was that she, like any animal, couldn't read or write, so it wouldn't have helped her to ask for the motorized plate.

"Can't you tell me anything else? Did that minibus have a special characteristic or mark?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Wait, why don't you ask the cats again? If there was nothing on the sides, maybe there was something on the roof."

"I see, thank you very much."

Millita went again to ask the cats and for her fortune, one of them could give her a valuable clue.

"Is it painted in another color?"

"That' s right, friend, sure before it was someone else's, maybe it's a stolen minibus that was painted to mislead the owners or the police."

"And what color was the ceiling?"

"It was a squeaky orange one, besides, it had something painted on it... it was like a bird, but I don't remember very well anymore."

"That's very useful to me, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart."

"You're welcome friend, happy to help."

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With more hope, Millita went to the Obrajes prison, where they lock up the women, where they had her friend, even though she was a minor.

With the disguise that she had, Millita did not have any problem in entering the prison, however, she stumbled upon the fact that she did not have an identity card, an indispensable requirement to be able to visit Clara.

When the kitten lamented her luck and that of her friend, Clara's family and some of her friends entered the place.

Clara's mother was a fat lady with a skirt, white complexion and very rosy cheeks. Her father was a skinny individual, whose skin pigmentation was much darker than her daughter's. Both were very formal and it was noticeable that they had exaggerated a little with the perfume.

Her daughter's friends were two and couldn't be more different: Matilda, a tall girl with very coppery skin and a gangly appearance; and Epifanía, a tiny girl with a very rosy face and nothing graceful. Both came to cheer up their dear friend and had offered their parents all the money they could get to hire a good lawyer, they had sold many of their things.

Millita tried to sneak in but the guards wouldn't let her. A few meows of encouragement to her family and friends, was the only thing she could offer, a gesture that did not go unnoticed by the anguished visitors, who although they did not understand, bowed their heads believing that the tiny cholita gave them encouragement.

"That lady was very small, wasn't she, Epifanía?"

"-Shuuu Matilda, you'd better get your identity card, they're going to ask us for it."

No use, Millita couldn't visit her friend, but she left more animated with the fact that she was receiving visitors in these unfortunate moments.

"What do I do now? I don't know very well what to do", thought the kitten, while she held on to the fake braid and played with it. "Come on, you're a detective now, think... I can't walk the streets jumping on the roof of every minibus, Clara needs help and soon or God only knows what they're going to do to her."

"Courtesy doesn't take away the brave and by asking you get to the milkman," decided Millita and went to seek advice, that there was no shame in that.

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"You're right, friend," said Don Cuchicuchi, who nodded after hearing the kitty's story, "it would be very good if you had wings to fly high and see the roofs of the minibuses, you would also save a lot of time."

"They say the thieves stole a medal, if I don't find them soon they can even sell it, and then what about Clara! She's going to stay in jail forever!"

"Yes, we have to hurry, in my time some thieves stole a gold trophy and then melted it down... I think it was the World Cup, I don't remember what it was called anymore."

"See Don Cuchicuchi! I have to hurry! But what can I do, maybe I won't make it!"

"Don't be discouraged, I'm beginning to remember, ah yes, that stolen trophy, it was stolen before and it was just a dog who found it. You Millita, you're a detective now, I'm sure you won't be able to do less... What if you go with the pigeons? Maybe the pigeons in Plaza Murillo will help you."

It was true! she needed wings, and nobody said they shouldn't belong to others. Without wasting any more time, she thanked the old cat for his advice and was quick to look for the pigeons, knowing from that moment that she shouldn't discriminate against other animals as she did in the beginning.

CONTINUARÁ...

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