McDoozle sank into his chair. This day was worse than he had expected. At the badly spelt acadamey they had given crime solving a bit of a brush off - pop in, interview a couple of witnesses, get your story, arrest your theives, go to the party down the hall (which incidently will involve more than you and one other) and have a good time. This was something entirely different.
Still, McDoozle wasn't one for self pity. So, he resignedly picked his now not so neat notebook up from where it had been flung on the floor, took a deep breath, and went out to pick another interviewee.
There were still hordes of people gathered, beginning to look fed up. What was Detective Oldetower up to? He didn't appear to making any impact. Nevertheless, McDoozle gazed around the room, once, twice, sure there must be someone who could make a difference, if only he could make the right decision. He eventually settled on an unremarkable middle aged lady, and beckoned her to him.
Practising his gentlemanly skills, McDoozle held the door for his witness, and then watched her hips gently sway to their seat. Just as he closed the door, a spotty 12 year old girl followed her in, chucked her oversized bag on the table, and promptly flopped to the floor under the table.
Slightly suprised he had noticed this child alongside what now was clearly it's mother McDoozle decided to interview them seperately, just incase this pre adolescent spotbag had noticed anything. McDoozle wasn't keen on spotty adolescents, having been sent to boarding school and taught how to respect a policemen properly.
So, said McDoozle, "firstly may I take your name"?
"Of Course" said the mother, "my name is Eliza Jasmine Isabelle Madeline Peterson, and this is my daughter Catherine-Josephine."
"Mu-um, I told you, It's Kat!"
"Anyway, i'm afraid i didn't see the intruders enter, as I was busy trying to teach Catherine-Josephine about the values of WASHING HER FACE OCCASIONALLY!"
"Oh for god sake mum you are soooo embarresing, soap is soo last week and incase you hadn't noticed, my face has eczma so I can't, which, BY THE WAY is all your fault for drinking or smoking or something when you were pregnant, you are SUCH a bad mother I hate you and I wish you'd never had me."
With that, Catherine-Josephine, call me Kat, left. Abruptly, slamming the door in the way only teenagers can, and leaving McDoozles already frayed nerves feeling more than a little bit worn.
"Sorry about that officer",said the lady with the exceptionally long name. "My daughter is going through a little bit of a phase. Anyway, yes, I was talking to Catherine-Josephine, and so didn't notice the two ginger midgets come in, until they were standing on the trampoline, trying to bounce each other over the counter."
At this, McDoozle couldn't help but splutter. "Ginger?"
"Oh yes officer, as Ginger as a carrot. Not that I have anything against carrots you see, oh no not at all I was saying just the other day.."
"So," Interrupted McDoozle, now wondering whether this was another red herring thrown in his path. "The ginger midgets trampolined through over the counter? Then what happened?"
Ms Paterson coughed a slightly embarrased cough, and said "Well... The one with horns folded the trampoline, put it in his pocket, and then they tickled the teller until she let them in the safe. They stole the money, and bounced off through the skylight. it was most suprising i must tell you, but you must give them credit for their non violent methods"
"Yes" said McDoozle. At the point, he was not sure there was anything else he could say really. "Well, please leave your particulars with officer on the door. We'll be in touch."
"Oh officer", said Ms Patterson with a giggle. "I'd rather leave my details with you - you can touch me anytime."