I'd gotten a taste of what investigating crimes was like, and there was no way something or someone would stop me from investigating them!

My name is James Hamish, and I am a high school detective!!

---

Not even homework. Even though I had a 2000 word essay due the next day for my summer school English class, and I was only on word 15, and it was ten-thirty at night, I would still investigate any crimes that I could. Which is exactly what I did.

---

"Yes, this is Detective West. Yes? Yes? Okay, I'll be over in ten."

My uncle hung up the phone. I asked him what was up, as he was changing. He was already set to go to bed, but he certainly wouldn't turn down what little business he got.

"Murder."

"Can I come, dad?"

"Don't you have a 2000 word essay due to your English class tomorrow?"

"I'm almost done."

He walked over to the monitor and counted the words on the screen.

"20. Including the words 'Untitled Document - Microsoft Word Processor'. I don't think you can come unless you somehow manage to finish up that essay before I leave."

"Dad! I can just finish right there. 2000 is the MAXIMUM."

Of course, I wasn't serious at all. My uncle waved me off and changed to the rather typical detective uniform. Untucked shirt, dockers, loose tie. He was just missing his coat and hat.

I called a friend across the street. I needed to investigate...

"Hey, Chris?"

Chris was a tomboy friend of mine. She always was since elementary school, and she was, lucky for me, a year older. She had her licence, and her parents were out of town for the week.

"Jim...? Is that you?"

"Chris, I need a big favor."

"It's ten-thirty at night, Jim. There are still curfews in place, and those apply until you're 18. That and I was about to go to sleep. I gotta get up early for soccer practice..."

"Well, don't. Not yet, anyway. Listen, I need you to get your car, follow my uncle, and tell me where he stops. Can you do that?"

"Jim, what's up with this...?"

"Please. I'll... it's another investigation, and I really need..."

"Jim. You need to finish that essay. 2000 words, right?"

"I'm almost done." Jesus, did everyone know about the essay?!

"...How many words you got?"

"I got.. er... 18 hundred."

"...You have 18 words. That's pathetic."

I saw my uncle fumbling with his socks. I didn't have much time.

"Chris, please. Have I ever asked you any big favor in my entire life?" I quickly grabbed my uncle's keys as he used the toilet and stuffed them in his trenchcoat pocket.

"Fine, fine. I'll be there in five." The phone clicked on the other end.

I set back to work staring blankly at the computer. I was supposed to write a scene for a play. There was a reason why I failed English sophomore year, I realized, as I stared at my computer blankly for two minutes.

My uncle emerged from the bathroom ready to take on any mystery that might come his way. He grabbed his phone, magnifying glass, went for his coat and hat, and...

Keys. Keys. He had no idea where his keys were. I smirked to myself as my uncle fumbled through drawers and cabinets trying to find keys.

---

Three minutes had passed and my uncle finally found them. He walked out the door and I heard the sound of two vehicles driving off.

---

"Chris?"

"Yeah?"

"Where is he?"

"He's down on 15th and Oat Ave. You want fries with that?"

"Funny. Though I do have one more thing to ask of you."

"Lemme guess..." I heard a ring at the doorbell. I opened it, and there was Chris. She snapped her cell phone shut and asked, "You want me to take you to the scene of the crime?"

---

10:45. We arrived. I told Chris she could leave, and I'd get her if I needed her again. She muttered something about how she wasn't appreciated enough or something and left.

It was an apartment. I felt the cold rain on my face. Typical. Crime scenes are never bright and cheery.

I went in and saw a bunch of police officers asking random people questions. I saw my uncle with his back turned to me talking to some other police officer apparently getting information from him. I was about to ask him for information about the crime when a police officer stopped me.

"Whoa there! You can't go there, boy, that's a crime scene."

A police officer stopped me from going any further. I realized just how much of a handicap I had. Not only did I not have permission to be on the premisis, but I also couldn't talk with my uncle and ask him for permission, because I was supposed to be home working on my essay...! I was going to have to investigate the scene without both police and my dad catching me. It was only an impossible task that was supposed to be done with both of them looking for everything that could catch their eye.

I made my way to the apartment exit when I ran into Detective Goodman.

"Hey!"

He instantly recognized me and we shook hands.

"You're that boy who solved the crime case last month, right?"

He had forgotten my name, but it was partially my fault, as I never revealed it.

"Detective James Hamish, sir."

He gave a chuckle. Evidently, the whole "detective" title wasn't exactly ringing with my name yet.

"Detective Goodman, at your service."

I remembered his name, because his badge was glistening in the light from all over the apartment building.

"Well, if you are at my service, can you make it so I can get in the crime scene?"

"Eh? Why don't you just ask your father for that?"

I explained how he wasn't my father, he was actually my uncle, and that I had an essay to write, and that I had flunked English, and that my uncle thought I was at home working on the essay, and that...

"Hey, hey! Slow down! You could have just said I can't, and that would have been good enough for me!" He scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to me.

"You should be good with that, kid." He tipped his hat. "Well, I'm off. See you at the scene?"

And he was gone. I was past one barrier. The only one remaining was my uncle, and I thought that I just might be able to work around him...