ON THE SPOT

Evening Post, Volume CXXI, Issue 36, 12 February 1936, Page 13

ON THE SPOT

WELLINGTON DETECTIVE

FALSE STEP TAKEN

In the Wellington detective office today there was a smell; a pungent whiff that was vaguely familiar, yet not readily identified in such surroundings. The faculties of the inhabitants of the room were not necessary to trace the source of the olfactory disturbance. In the far corner stood a detective, a large, good-humoured detective; but he was not feeling particularly happy. He was on the spot, literally on the spot, and he was not moving for anybody. His appreciable feet were planted in a pool of vinegar.

This is not a problem story, nor yet a thriller; so readers who haven't the time or inclination to find a. climax need not build too thick an atmosphere around the vinegar—the detective was doing all that. With the quick grasp of essentials and the ingenuity that is peculiar to pressmen, a reporter summed up the position and moved rapidly towards the solution. The smell, he reasoned, probably came from the vinegar; the vinegar from any hardware store. With these points definitely established, all that remained was to find out what the feet were doing there. (New readers, having started at the beginning—it is hoped— now read on.)

The owner of the feet could be assumed to have the matter at his toetips. He was not communicative. He admitted that he was the owner of the feet, that nobody but he had authority to use them. He was perfectly aware that there was vinegar on the floor, and was equally cognisant of the fact that he was standing in it.

There was nothing for it but to "grill" him, and he had been thirddegreed only thirty seconds when he "squeaied." He made a frank admission, which is now being taken down in writing, but not read over and signed as being correct. Somebody, it appears, had left some caustic lying about, and the detective inadvertently trod in it. The caustic hadn't had a nice pair of large boots for a long time, and made the best possible use of the opportunity. The boob didn't mind so much, but the feet let their manager know all about It. Vinegar was the only handy neutr'aliscr That explains satisfactorily the smell, the vinegar, the feet, and the detective

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