There is a secret meeting tonight and I have to be there. I know what it’s about, although I’m not supposed to know but a policeman told me. I often work for the police as a freelance detective. There’s been a series of murders locally. The seven victims seem to be done in by the same guy as the murders are almost identical: stabbed in the chest by a paper knife used to open envelops.
The meeting is secret so as not to draw attention to the fact that they closing in on a suspect. They don’t want the suspect to know. It’s hilarious. I know they’re not closing in on a suspect because it wasn’t a paper knife used in the murders; it was a screwdriver. And they are looking for a short guy and I’m 6 foot 2.
Anyway I’m on my way to the meeting and will hopefully muddle the trail even further. Here I am now! What’s this? What’s this, Officer? I’m under arrest for what?
For some time now Clarice had suspected that not everything was right with hubby. Ramon had been in a bad mood for several weeks. He was working too hard. Every night this week he had come home late. He said he was “burdened with work”. Somehow for Clarice the story didn’t sit right.
“I suspect he’s having an affair,” thought Clarice. “That sprightly, lithe office assistant called Monica is the likeliest candidate to attract Ramon’s attention.”
Clarice searched online for a company that did private detective work. There it was! It was specific: “We specialize in investigating your spouse.” It was exactly what Clarice wanted. She phoned. They arranged to meet. Max wasn’t at all what she had expected. She had expected a tweedy little man with a monocle; well not exactly a monocle but at least horned-rimmed glasses. Max wasn’t any of that.
Anyway, that was months ago. Clarice no longer needs to have husband Ramon investigated as she’s moved in with Max.