“Mom! I can’t believe it! My shoe box bank is missing!
Dad gives me one nickel a week for my allowance and now somebody has stolen my bank. I don’t have one single nickel left.” Huge tears rolled down from Chloe’s sweet little doe-like eyes.
“Maybe your shoe box bank was misplaced during house cleaning. Surely it will turn up, Chloe. Don’t cry.”
“I don’t think so, Mom. I think somebody stole it.” She looked so sad.
“Tell me how we can help you, Chloe and please stop crying, Honey, we’ll get to the bottom of this, I promise.”
“I’m going to ask Clark Anderson Fouraker if he’ll help me find out who did it.” Her little voice trailed off as she continued to cry.
“Well, with the crime-solving techniques Clark is developing, I think he’d be the very one to help you.” I said, confidently. “He’s in his room studying now, so why don’t you take a minute and go ask him. I’m sure he’ll help.”
“I just can’t walk into his bedroom and ask him.”
“And just why not?”
“He has a business phone he wants us to contact him on.”
“Surely, you jest. He’s just down the hall.”
“I know, but he says he’s a professional now and we can’t just barge in on him like we used to do because he has important work to do and he can’t be constantly interrupted. Anyway, he really likes to answer his phone. It makes him feel important.”
“Saying ‘Hello’ makes him feel important?”
“Oh, he doesn’t just say ‘hello’, Mom. He says, “Fouraker Investigative Services, Clark Anderson speaking.” TBC