Previoiusly on Sherlock Herms… The Trojan Horse Mystery
“I think I have a virus,” Mom told me. “I feel puny.”
“What does puny feel like?” I asked. I was very concerned. If my mom died, who would feed me? Who would…tweet for me?
“I have chills, a sore throat, and I’m achy all over.”
“Where did you find a virus?”
“No idea. It’s a mystery.”
I excused myself to scamper back to my office where I grabbed a notebook and a purrple crayon. Then I headed back to my client. “I need to interrogate you,” I told her. “What time did you first notice you were feeling puny?”
She swallowed hard. “Last night around nine-thirty.”
“What were the symptoms?”
“I felt tired. And queasy.”
I wrote in my notebook. “Where were you prior to feeling puny?”
She reached for her water bottle and drank before answering. “I went to a book signing at the library, and then out to dinner.”
“You book signed at the library. Did you sign in the entry hall, or someplace else?”
She grabbed her water bottle. “They set me up in a room with a small stage.”
“What else was there?”
She thought about it as she drank. “They had a giant book on the floor. And a giant pink eraser. And a rack of hand puppets.” She frowned.
I gasped. “You were in the—”
“Kid’s library!” we said in unison.
She groaned. “I should have known. The library’s a Trojan horse for kiddie crud.”
And now… Sherlock Herms in Spring Break
I hunched over my desk in my huge but otherwise empty office, working on Frank’s request to add tartar sauce to his salmon-colored box on my Wonderpurr Detective Agency (known as W.A.D.) organizational chart. With the help of Peaches I had managed to convince Frank that the box was indeed salmon-colored and not pink as he was worried that pink would ruin his image as a tough guy.
As I worked I thought about sharing my office with my investigators-in-training. Nine of them plus Dori my investigator-slash-partner. I’d shared my old office with my little sister and that had been incredibly disruptive. She knocked stuff over. She sang silly little songs under her breath. She walked through the talcum powder I’d sprinkled on the floor designed to capture unauthorized paw prints. She asked eleventy-billion questions without expecting me to answer a single one. In short—she drove me crazy! I shuddered to image what it would be like to share an office with all of my brothers and sisters. I felt pretty sure Sam Spade never had to share an office with his little sister, much less his entire family. [Read more…]