Getting to the bottom of it

The Chief of Poolice called for forensics. This was a big job. There could be repoocussions. Who was the culprit?

I had already given testimony putting Little H in the clear. His alibi wasn’t exactly cast iron, but rather tightly elasticated. I did a faecebility study. Nothing could have escaped from that panticular prison. The pants were clean!

They pretended to believe me, but I suspected that after we had left, there would have been mutterings and mumchancing. ”I wouldn’t say this to his grandpa, but I bet it was the little lad! It stands to reason!”

H wasn’t deturd!