Just then the phone rang, it was Alf. “Talk of the devil,” began Arthur, “what do you want Alf?”
“We have just been to see Was again. Now we are going to pop over to see Boozy at the Cellar Club, seeing as nobody seems to have done that yet.”
“Good idea Alf, you do that. Did you get anything out of Was?”
“Not really, he dropped White-not-Black off. Then White-not-Black said he could go. That’s all.”
“Righto. Call back if you find out anything else. Cheerio,” he put the phone down.
Then it rang again, it was Arianne. “Hello,” he spoke into the receiver.
“Hello darling, we are at the telecommunications main office, looking through the phone books trying to find all of the Do-Rights in Tennessee.”
“New hobby?”
“Don’t be silly, we are still looking for the missing waitress. She is called Deirdre Do-Right and has run back to her family in Tennessee.”
“Related to Dudley is she?”
“I said that earlier. Great minds think alike.”
“Or fools beg to differ.”
“Fool, singular, meaning you, because I am not one.”
Arthur made a popping sound with his lips, “Do you need anything dear?”
“No, we have our cowgirl suits already packed and we’ll be taking our stun pistols.”
YOU ARE READING
The Detective One
Science FictionThe Fifth book in the Arth Series. Arthur and the rest are cooped up in the cowboy/detective dimension. Mr. White-not-Black has been murdered and they must find the culprit. Yes it is supposed to be funny.
