In the bustling city, there was no one quite like Inspector Septimus Summer-Garden. Known for his oversized hat, mismatched socks, and a perpetual cloud of forgetfulness, he was the kind of policeman who always meant well but often found himself tangled in his own shoelaces or worse, in his own thoughts. One foggy morning, the mayor’s secretary hurried into the police station, looking flustered.
“Inspector Summer-Garden, we have a strange problem at City Hall. There are mysterious noises and echoes coming from the council offices late at night. No one can figure out what’s causing them!”
Inspector Summer-Garden adjusted his spectacles, which were slipping down his nose, and nodded vigorously.
“No problem at all! I shall investigate immediately!”
He grabbed his trusty notepad, which was actually a crumpled piece of paper with doodles of cats and clouds, and set off to City Hall. As he entered the grand building, he paused to admire the marble columns, then promptly tripped over the welcome mat.
“Who put this here?” he muttered, rubbing his knee.
In the council chambers, the noises had already begun. At first, it was just faint whispers like the rustling of leaves in a breeze. Then, strange echoes bounced off the walls, making it sound as if the room was filled with hundreds of tiny voices all chattering at once.
“Hmm,” said Septimus, scratching his head. “It’s probably just the acoustics… or perhaps… a ghost?”
He tiptoed around, trying to listen more closely, but the echoes seemed to dance away from him, as if they were mischievous children hiding from their teacher. Suddenly, he heard a loud clatter behind him. Turning around quickly, he saw a stack of papers topple over, scattering across the floor.
“Ah-ha!” he exclaimed, bending down to pick them up. “Noise! Noise caused by careless paper-pushers!”
Just then, a tiny squeaking sound caught his attention. He looked under the table and saw, wait for it, a small, fluffy mouse nibbling on a crumb.
“Ah, a clue!” he declared triumphantly. “The echoing noises are just the mice making a racket! No ghosts, no spirits, just little critters with big appetites!”
He gently shooed the mouse away and straightened his hat. As he did, he noticed a faint shimmer in the corner of the room. Curious, he approached and discovered an old, dusty ventilation vent.
“Could this be the source of the echoes?” he wondered aloud.
He crawled closer and peeked inside. Sure enough, the vent was slightly open, and the breeze from it caused papers to flutter and the tiny mouse to scurry about. With a bit of effort, he closed the vent and swept the floor. The noises quieted, and the echoes diminished. Returning to the mayor’s office, Inspector Summer-Garden announced,
“The mystery is solved! The strange noises were caused by a little mouse and a draft. Nothing supernatural, just common, everyday troublemakers!”
The mayor chuckled and patted him on the back.
“Well done, Inspector! Your unique method has once again saved the day.”
As Inspector Summer-Garden waddled back to the police station, he couldn’t help but smile. He may have been clumsy and forgetful, but his heart was always in the right place and sometimes, that’s all it takes to crack the case.
Lazarus Carpenter - Author 