“Excuse me?”

The cashier jerked awake and looked about for the source of the voice.

“Down here.”

He peered over the cash register to see a small puppet standing there. It couldn’t have been more than a foot high, felt blond hair falling over the collar of its little jacket.

“Can I help you?” the cashier asked.

“Do you stock printer paper?”

“Huh?”

“You know, A4 paper for printers for home use.”

“Ugh, no sorry.”

“Thanks for your time.”

The puppet walked outside and climbed into the black mustang idling by the curb.

“Any luck?” Isaac was sitting behind the wheel, smoking as usual.

“Nope.” Josie sighed. She pulled a list from her pocket and, with a little difficulty, scratched off the store.

“Where to next?” Isaac asked.

“There’s a 24 hour convenience store on the corner of 103rd,” Josie said.

“And you’re sure paper is the way to find the killer?”

“I’m sure.”

“All right then.”

The mustang roared off into the night with the world’s greatest and shortest detective in the passenger seat.