It was a bright, breezy afternoon in the city, and Inspector Summer-Garden was enjoying a rare moment of calm until his trusty assistant, Constable Pipwick, burst into the station, clutching a crumpled piece of paper.
“Inspector! You won’t believe it!” Pipwick panted. “The famous violinist, Madame Viola, has reported her priceless Stradivarius missing!”
Summer-Garden adjusted his glasses, which were slipping down his nose once again. “Missing, you say? Well, that’s quite a musical mystery. Lead the way, Pipwick!”
The inspector and his assistant hurried to the City Concert Hall, where Madame Viola was frantic. She explained that her beloved violin had been stolen during her afternoon rehearsal.
“Everyone was in the hall,” she said, tears in her eyes. “I last saw it on the stand, and now… it’s gone!”
Summer-Garden looked around carefully, squinting through his thick glasses. His near-sightedness made spotting details tricky, but he noticed a faint smudge on the floor near the music stand.
“Hmm,” he muttered, kneeling with a loud thud. “Looks like someone dragged something heavy here.”
Pipwick pointed to a faint trail of footprints leading toward the side door. “Should we follow it, sir?”
“Absolutely,” replied the inspector, trying to steady himself as he tripped over a chair leg.
The footprints led outside into a narrow alley behind the hall. Summer-Garden, nearly tumbling into a pile of crates, followed cautiously. There, he spotted a small, muddy footprint smaller than most adults, and a scrap of torn fabric caught on a rusty nail.
“Ah-ha!” exclaimed Summer-Garden, pointing eagerly. “This fabric matches the coat of… Mr. Whiskers, the hall’s janitor!”
Pipwick looked surprised. “He’s always been very loyal, sir. Do you think he took the violin?”
The inspector nodded thoughtfully, though his glasses slipped again. “Or… maybe he saw something and tried to hide it. Let’s find Mr. Whiskers!”
They found Mr. Whiskers sweeping the back alley, looking nervous. When asked about the torn fabric and footprints, he stammered,
“I… I didn’t do anything! I just found the violin in a box outside the hall and wanted to keep it safe. I was going to return it tomorrow.”
Summer-Garden squinted at the janitor’s coat, noticing a small tear that matched the fabric scrap.
“So, you weren’t stealing it, but you found it outside?”
“Yes, sir,” Mr. Whiskers nodded. “I thought someone had abandoned it.”
Just then, a loud crash echoed from inside the hall. Rushing back, they found Madame Viola’s assistant frantically searching through a pile of discarded costumes. There, hidden beneath a cloak, was the missing violin! It turned out that a mischievous young musician, jealous of Madame Viola’s fame, had stolen the violin to ruin her performance. He’d hidden it in the costume pile, hoping to retrieve it later. Thanks to Inspector Septimus Summer-Garden’s sharp eye, despite his near-sightedness and occasional clumsiness he nearly tripped over a stage prop in the process, the real culprit was caught.
Madame Viola was overjoyed.
“Thank you, Inspector! You’ve saved my concert and my reputation!”
As he made his way back to the station, Summer-Garden chuckled to himself, adjusting his glasses.
“Another mystery solved, with a little help from my trusty eyes and a bit of good old-fashioned clumsiness.”
Pipwick grinned.
“You’re quite the detective, sir!”
With a hearty laugh, the inspector replied,
“It’s all in a day’s work in the city’s annals of crime!”
Lazarus Carpenter - Author 