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The Case of the Missing Sock, a short story by Flarevine. Date added: 2012-05-18. Times viewed: 529.

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Intro: The Case of the Missing Sock is written from a sock's perspective. He's a hard working detective who is involved in the biggest crime of his life. It's a dirty town with hard to reach stains but somebody's got to clean it up.

The case of the missing sock was the most high profile case of my career.

Long days, even longer nights and a thousand samples of wash powder weren't making the clues any cleaner. I had interviewed more jumpers and trousers than I care to remember. None of them knew a thing. Or so they said.

My next stop was a lead that i had been given about a pair of tights that worked the lingerie district. To be honest i wasn't eager to get hold of those tights. I knew exactly what pair I was looking for, the name was enough to make me as rigid as 10 day old boxer shorts.

Netty was her name, she was my ex. We had had good times together, she was stretchy and flexible, tied me up in ways only a 1600 spin washing machine could manage. Unfortunately for me it was a doomed love story, we weren't cut from the same cloth and ultimately we caused so much static that only a power station could contain us. We went our separate ways, she became the madame of a popular strip tease club and i went back to my lonely detective job. Anyway, back to the case.

The missing sock's family were getting increasingly anxious, my phone was ringing off the hook. There's only so much one detective can do, I felt as though I was coming apart at the seams. How will I tell them the case is cold, Netty won't know anything, hell if she did she'd be putting her own life in danger.

Even the media are involved now, giving hourly updates. Those leg warmer reporters don't know the half of the story. That sock was involved in some dirty business. He had connections with the Cardigans and the Bell Bottom Pants, those were bad circles to spin in. Counterfeit fabric softener warehouses were springing up in this town every week.

The Cardigans and Bell Bottoms were two rival gangs competing with each other to see who could run this town. Counterfeit fabric softener was the key to running everything. It was only a matter of time before the bad fabric softener hit the shelves in every launderette this side of Cotton Town. Once the bad fabric softener got into main stream society we would be facing unprecedented reports of rough knickers, itchy sweaters and stiff shirts. What a mess. That sock was about to unpick the stitching that held this community together.

This whole mess started a week ago, I got a call in the middle of the night. Woke me up from the best dream I had had in a long time. I knew I should have ignored the phone but the cop in me never sleeps not even when I'm dreaming of the good old days with Netty. The boss told me to get dressed and get in the station, there's a sock missing and he's a big player in Operation Hand-me-down. We had been watching the rival gangs in town and we had most of their players pinned down. Apart from the identity of one, a sock. He was woolly, made from the best highland sheep in Scotland. That kind of genetic make up was rare in this town, except we had never actually seen him in the flesh. We only knew this guy from statements off frightened glad rags. They funded the gangs, gave them nice cars in exchange for protection.

The only problem now was that my search had come to an end a week ago. Everyone else was still looking for the sock. I never told anyone that I had found him a long time ago.

You see, his name was Detective MacWoolly, Detective Mad Tweedy MacWoolly from the Scottish Highlands. MacWoolly came into the force the same time I did. The only difference between us was that MacWoolly had a taste for crime and I don't mean fighting crime. He became involved in the gangs we were monitoring. At first it started out as pure fascination but as the weeks rolled on he became infatuated with them. I stumbled across his dark wash deeds when we were called to a wash-&-go drive by shooting. The victim was a trainer sock, it turned out he was the coach for the swim wear team. He had a contract with the Cardigans, they provided him with protection from the Bell Bottoms and he supplied them with access to his chlorine stores. It seems the Bell Bottoms didn't like the Cardigans having such a valuable customer and decided to kill him. When me and MacWoolly arrived at the scene there was traces of fabric softener scattered everywhere. We collected the evidence and he took the bags, he told me he would deliver them to forensics, the only problem was he never did make that delivery. I discovered this two nights after the incident,

We had been for a drink after work, MacWoolly drunk too much as always. I drove him home and gave him a hand into his flat. MacWoolly was out for the count. I dumped him in his basket and made my way to the door. I dropped my key on the floor as I turned the door knob to leave and that's when I saw the evidence bag poking out of his shoe. With my suspicions raised I decided to keep close tabs on MacWoolly. It was hard, we'd been a pair since day one. I spent many nights in my car watching him meeting with the Cardigans outside launderettes one night and meeting the Bell Bottoms outside strip clubs the next. He was involved deep and I knew this was no undercover stunt he was pulling. There was only one thing to do. I had to get rid of him.

Being a cop brings a lot of respect from people. MacWoolly started out as a good cop, he helped lots of innocent victims get their lives back. He was well respected and revered by the public and government officials. But he was also my friend. He had helped me back in the days with Netty. When the relationship ended he was the one who ironed me out and got me back on track. For those reasons I knew I had to make him disappear without anyone ever knowing he was a bad cop.

To be continued...

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