The Helsinki Chronicles of Dr. Louise C. Love and Mr. P.

We were barely outside the Library when Dr. Love stopped so abruptly that she almost stepped on Mr. P., who although usually in the vanguard when we’re leaving a building had for once lagged behind.  <Watch with the feet!>

“Of course,” she muttered, spun around on her high heels, and returned to the office, where Mr. Hannula and Anja were sitting close together in a quiet conversation.  Definitely an unexpected tête-à-tête in this unromantic setting.  They both sprang up in different directions as we’re-entered the room.

“I’m sorry to bother you again, Miss Tuurna.  Was the boy as tall as Mr. Newbury?”

“Oh, no, Dr. Love!  He was much shorter.”

“And did you ever see his hands?  The boy’s, I mean.”

“No, Dr. Love.  As I said, he kept them in his pockets.”

“Mr. Hannula has stated that the family resemblance was unmistakable.”

“Mr. Hannula is quite correct.  As always.”

“Mrs. Newbury, if that is her name.  Did you observe her hair?”

“Very luxuriant.  Probably tinted but an excellent job.”

“You’ve been studying English literature?  Medieval, I believe?”

“Yes,” she responded, with obvious enthusiasm.

By now I was convinced that Dr. Love, like me, was completely flummoxed by the entire affair.  True, we have encountered many apparently insurmountable challenges, and despite my conviction that we would fail, Dr. Love has invariably succeeded in clearing up riddles whose solutions have eluded even me.  But this case was different and would certainly prove to be beyond Dr. Love’s powers.  She had clearly met her match in this unknown English gentleman and his two mysterious accomplices, and the wisest move was to return home with as little fanfare as possible.  I sensed that Mr. P. agreed with me, as he so often does.

“Just one more question, if you will, Anja.  Mr. Hannula has said, ‘Although they refrained from communicating, technically she did break our rules by humming in a low voice for a few moments.’  Can you be more...”

I was relieved that at this point in the monotonous and redundant interrogation Mr. P. reminded himself that he’d been indoors for some time and now had an overwhelming desire to visit the great outdoors.  <So many verticals!>  He had already determined that there were no suitable amenities in the Library, so it was definitely not a place to tarry in any longer than necessary.  I agreed with him, as I so often do, and headed for the exit again.

Dr. Love caught up with us as we reached the street, and I ventured to console her on what I knew had been a fruitless and frustrating inquiry.&