Uh-oh. Bernie thinks someone was in the house while we were gone. Working on the tuna case – did I post about that already? We cleared the tuna case no problem, got home and Bernie went right to sleep. Me, too, and I didn’t smell anything strange. But in the morning when he sat down at the computer he saw a book on the desk. “What’s this doing here?” he said. “Fowler’s Modern English Usage? We don’t have a copy of that.” Meaning what? “Meaning someone was here, Chet.” That was bad. We run a detective agency, me and Bernie. Security is number one. “Got to secure the base.” Bernie says that all the time. He was in the Army long ago. That was where he got his wound, a story for another time – in fact I think it’s in Thereby Hangs A Tail.
Bernie tapped away at the computer. After a while – a pretty long while, I was getting hungry – Bernie said, “Ah ha,” and turned to me. “We’re looking for some lowlife who calls himself Admin.”
Admin – a strange name, but easy to remember. This whole business with Fowler’s Modern English Usage was confusing, but I knew one thing – Admin, and maybe this Fowler dude, too – would soon be wearing orange jump suits and breaking rocks in the hot sun.
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