David, the 3-year-old detective, sat in his office under the kitchen table. His assistant, Sam the Cat, had just brought him the morning paper, which he had found wrapped around some old bones in the next-door neighbour’s rubbish tin. (The bones had been carefully inspected for any remaining evidence, and then filed by Sam in his favourite spot between the plum tree and the fence.) But David’s mind was not really on the day’s news. He doodled on the office floor with a felt pen as he thought about what Chief of Police Daddy had said to him the night before.

“David,” said the Chief, “Did you you do that?” That, was a broken bedroom window. Shattered glass lay on the floor. And in the middle of it ... was a marble. A big one.

David was frightened when he saw it, because that afternoon he had done something he knew he should not. Big Stuart, the driver of the fastest getaway bike in the neighbourhood, had been given a bag of those marbles the week before, and he had passed the word around the neighbourhood: “No-one touches those marbles.”

Now, Big Stuart had gone out on a secret mission, and while he was away David had taken the chance to check out Big Stuart’s den, looking for any stray things that might just be lying around. David had come across the marbles, which Big Stuart had forgotten to lock away in his safe, and he could not resist playing with them. Sam the Cat had kept lookout, and he had passed the miaow to David when he heard Big Stuart coming back down the drive. David quickly scooped the marbles back into the bag, but when he counted them he found one was missing. In panic, he looked frantically around but could not find it, and he only had time to crawl out the window before Big Stuart came back.

Now, there was what looked horribly like the missing marble, surrounded by broken glass.

“David, did you do that?” asked Police Chief Daddy again.

“No, I didn’t do it,” replied David.

“Then, why are you crying?” asked the Chief.

“Because you are making me so upset.”

“Tell me the truth, David.”

David was trapped. He knew he needed help. If he said anything more, he would be in trouble with Big Stuart. There was only one thing he could do. Call his lawyer fast.

“I want Mummy,” he said.

Lawyer Mummy was a smart operator. She knew every loophole in the book, and what was important, she knew how to get around the Police Chief when her client was in trouble.

A yoghurt-pot telephone call to the kitchen had the best legal brain in town down to the bedroom faster than you could say, “Get your muddy boots off my carpet.”

“Hi Chief,” she said, “What’s up?”

Chief pointed to the mess on the carpet.

“You can’t pin that on my boy,” said Lawyer Mummy. “He’s got a perfect alibi.” She thought fast. “He was helping me do the dishes at the time, and I’ve got two witnesses to prove it.”

“Two witnesses?” The Police Chief found this hard to believe.

“Yes. Two broken saucers. Don’t worry, they were the old chipped ones,” she added as she saw the Chief start to go red in the face.

The Chief was far from happy. But he knew he didn’t have enough evidence to arrest David. No jury would convict on the facts so far, and Judge Grandpa would throw the case out on appeal anyway.

“Okay,” he said. “He’s free to go. But I’m holding on to his passport, so he doesn’t try to skip the country.” And he pocketed David’s vaccination book with a flourish. “By the way, where’s Sam the Cat?” The Chief’s eyes narrowed. “I want a word with him. He was seen loitering around here a few minutes ago. Perhaps he might have seen something.”

David smiled to himself. Sam was no tell-tale. The Chief would get nothing out of him.