"What do you mean, all this?" Asked the Inspector.
"Rings, dwarfs, keys, shots in the dark, I'm tired . . . you know Inspector, I'm sure I've seen you somewhere before . . .
"Erm . . . well, yes, we were at school together . . . but I doubt you'd remember me . . .
Joe looked more closely at the Inspector.
"Monica Smith-Jones!!!" He exclaimed, nearly knocking his drink off the table
"Yes, that's right, Swotsy Mondy . . . " Monica reddened and turned away from Joe trying to hide her embarrassment.
"Oh, my God, you've changed. Filled out a bit as well. Didn't you used to have a crush on me?"
"Erm . . . well . . . I think we ought to talk about the case, I am on duty you know. Perhaps we can put our minds together and work it all out."
"Perhaps we can," whispered Joe as he leant across the table and covered Monica's hand with his, "perhaps when this is all over we can . . .