CLICK at your pleasure to hear some holy-type music favored by Cousin Nim (who is shortly to become Pastor Nim)!

     "You're familiar with Mr. Pezmyer's car." Deputy Wong says it like a fact.
     "Mr. Pezmyer's car." I say it back, the same tone.
     "Somebody trashed it up graduation night."
     I look shocked. "No, no! Not that nootiful Bluick!" My lips are getting in the way of my shock. "Well, I just looked at that car and looked at it again and, you know, I cut'n see nothing wrong with it when I looked, you know? Close up, you know. I mean, I even looked under it to see if maybe some vandal had ran over something with it, but no, nothing was hanging out of there. So I was pretty relieved."
     "When was that, Joe?"
     "What?"
     "You were relieved to find out Mr. Pezmyer's new blue Buick hadn't run over something. When was it you were relieved to find that out?"
     "Well, this morning, when I heard about it. From Mr. Drumhandler. Right downstairs." I look away and smirk to myself, congratulate myself on my quick thinking, a characteristic you're supposed to have if you're going to be a first-class secret agent
     Cousin Nim is chewing thoughtfully and looking into his cup again. It suddenly occurs that Cousin Nim was with me when I heard Mr. Drumhandler talking about the crime, the prank, and that I been with Cousin Nim all the time since then. We neither of us has set eyes on Mr. Pezmyer's new blue Buick. I say beautiful new blue Buick to myself inside my mouth a couple times, just to make sure I can do it, without my lips putrefying on me again.
     "Well, that's a relief," says Deputy Wong. "It's a relief to hear you had nothing to do with that $3,500 worth of damage Mr. Pezmyer tells us he's gonna hafta pay to fix up that nice new car. Ex-new car now."
     "Of course. Of course. Poor Mr. Pezmyer. Poor guy! Poor whole Pezmyer family," I say, maybe talking too much now.

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